Who scheduled Mother’s Day in May? Not a mom, I’ll tell you that.
School events stack on top of work deadlines. Sports schedules blur into teacher gifts. There’s a group text you forgot to answer, something you were supposed to sign, and at least one Amazon package that won’t arrive in time.
And somewhere in the middle of “May-cember,” moms are supposed to stop and be celebrated.
Which can feel complicated for the women doing the actual work of holding everything together. The ones wondering what they’re passing down in the middle of all this chaos — and fearing that it’s stress, over-scheduling, and future material for their therapist.
But as our team reflected on Mother’s Day this year, nobody shared stories about perfect parenting or grand life lessons.
They talked about resilience. Generosity. Hospitality. The way people were treated. The things that were caught, not taught, from the women who shape us most.
Which feels like an important reminder for the women in the thick of it right now:
You’re probably passing down more good than you think.
“I Didn’t Fully Appreciate My Mom Until I Had My First Child.”
My story is one I think many high-achieving women will recognize immediately:
“I didn’t fully appreciate my mom until I had my first child. Motherhood was a tough transition for me. Working had always felt natural—I’m task-oriented, I enjoy being productive, and I like being rewarded for hard work. Motherhood, though, was a different kind of challenge.”
Professional life often rewards effort predictably. Motherhood doesn’t.
“My first daughter didn’t sleep through the night until she was two, was a picky eater, and resisted going to bed every chance she got. I often felt overwhelmed and unsure of myself. Meanwhile, I watched my mom handle everything with a calm confidence that seemed effortless—nothing fazed her.”
Then you realize that the women we grew up admiring were probably exhausted too.
But they just kept showing up.
Watching my mother become a grandmother changed how I understood motherhood entirely:
“Seeing her step into the role of grandmother with such grace showed me what it truly means to be a mother: facing challenges with patience and confidence, and loving your child fully, even in their hardest moments.”
The Women Who Teach Us How To Treat People
“One of the biggest things my mom taught me was treating people with respect and kindness. My mom is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”
Cooper described growing up watching his mother consistently look for ways to help other people — driving someone to work because they didn’t have a car yet, helping friends replace worn-out basketball shoes, putting others first in practical ways.
“My mom made the choice every day to put others first, and that is something I try to do as well.”
Not flashy generosity.
Just consistent care that people carry with them long after childhood.
“My mom has never met a stranger. She could have a lengthy conversation with her best friend as well as someone she just met. It used to make me insane—we were probably already running late (because we always were) when we inevitably ran into someone. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized she instilled the belief of inherent dignity in others.”
Katie described watching her mother volunteer at hospice facilities, engage cashiers like human beings instead of transactions, and remember details about people’s lives.
“I am a kinder, more generous person because I watched my mom give of herself in simple ways.”
She also shared a lesson her mother repeated often during the chaos of adolescence:
“People often lash out or put on a front when they are insecure and hurt. They might project confidence that is actually self-protection and hiding.”
That lesson changes the way someone moves through the world.
It teaches people to look underneath behavior instead of reacting only to it.
And increasingly, that kind of empathy feels rare.
The Invisible Work of Hospitality
Tina reflected on something many women carry without ever calling it work: creating belonging.
“One of the biggest things my mom taught me was the art of entertaining—not just hosting people, but creating an atmosphere where everyone felt welcome.”
Growing up, holidays were large gatherings filled with family, extended family, friends, and whoever else happened to show up.
“No one was ever turned away, even if they weren’t invited.”
As a child, Tina watched it all unfold from the stairs — the laughter, the movement in the kitchen, the feeling that everyone belonged there.
Later, after a move, Tina watched her mother’s approach to hospitality evolve even further.
“That’s when I started to notice the details—the care she put into everything, from the food to the way the table was set. It didn’t matter if she was hosting two people or forty-two—the effort and intention were always the same.”
That line feels especially relevant this time of year because so much of motherhood lives in details nobody fully sees.
The preparation.
The anticipation.
The effort to make other people feel cared for.
Tina remembers family filling the kitchen together preparing meals, canning apples, baking pies, and turning ordinary weekends into something memorable.
“Looking back, I realize it wasn’t just about the event itself—it was about the joy of preparing for it, being together, and creating something meaningful.”
And maybe that’s the thing women underestimate most about themselves:
people remember how they felt in your presence long after they forget whether everything was perfect.
The Simple Things That End Up Carrying Us
Some of the lessons shared by the team were remarkably simple. The kind of things you hear growing up and only fully understand years later.
Jaclyn shared this from her mother:
“Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes the reason isn’t clear and won’t make sense in that moment, but maybe it’s a part of a bigger plan.”
And Leslie shared something equally straightforward:
“The best way to make it through difficult struggles is by finding the joy. Laughter is healing.”
Neither lesson is complicated.
But maybe that’s the point.
The women who shape us most don’t always hand down elaborate philosophies.
Sometimes they pass down perspective.
Resilience.
The ability to hold both heaviness and humor at the same time.
What Actually Gets Passed Down
At some point, most women realize the things they inherited from their mothers doesn’t look exactly like advice.
It was the resilience.
The generosity.
The way people were treated.
The effort to make others feel seen.
The women shaping families rarely feel like they’re doing enough while it’s happening.
But reading these reflections made one thing very clear:
The people who shape us most often don’t realize they’re doing it at all.
They’re just showing up, day after day, teaching the people around them how to move through the world.
So this Mother’s Day, here’s to the women in the thick of it — building careers, raising families, carrying invisible labor, and shaping people in ways they may not fully realize yet.
May you raise a glass to each other this weekend… and try not to notice the unsigned permission slip underneath it.
