It’s Mother’s Day tomorrow.


A day which, for some of us, is another painful reminder of a deep and special connection that no one else can have with us but our MUM – and which sadly some of us have never ever experienced or have lost forever.


This year I am tired of putting a brave face on around a day which has been everything but joyous for me, since the moment I was born.


I am a product of a deepest loss and grief.
I am 42 years old woman and I am an orphan.



If you passed me on the street, you wouldn’t know that I was an orphan.


If you saw me enjoying outdoor adventures with my friends, you would never ever guess that someone who can smile as wide, joke that much, shine as brightly and laugh so crazily – could also know the darkest and most painful depths of loneliness that comes from LOSS.


Most of my life, I pretended to be that way, to fit in with the crowd of “normal” that exists only superficially.


Especially over the holidays, when most of the world seem to forget that unfortunately there are too many people out there who don’t have or never had parents – physically and / or emotionally.


Some of us have never even used those beautiful and super special words – Mum and Dad – which deeply and forever bond parent and a child.


Word MUM for me personally was the most painful word throughout my life, especially in my childhood and young adulthood.


It caused me being bullied in school, feeling less than, feeling ashamed of myself as I didn’t have mum, guilty as if I was a good little girl my mum wouldn’t have left me.


Word mum made me feel angry, hurt, sad, unworthy, helpless, hopeless, ‘too sensitive’, ‘too emotional’, ‘too messed up’, ‘cry baby’, empty, broken, terribly abandoned and totally alone in this world.


I was hiding my ‘orphan secret’ for many decades as I didn’t want to spoil the party, get sympathy looks, or even worse, those uncomfortable looks of shock when people realise there is no right way to say, “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”


For too many years I tried very hard avoiding world’s pity on me. I absolutely hated it.


Until one day deep inside of me decision was made to NEVER EVER again feel like a poor helpless little victim.


I have successfully built an image of a strong, positive, happy, shiny and a super resilient survivor, a superwoman, a caring protector who is Always Good and was born to help the world.


I was so good at it that ( most of the time ) I even managed to fool myself with that fairytale, hiding behind my work role for decades.


Last couple of weeks my superhero armour suddenly and very unexpectedly started to crack as I cried oceans connecting with my mother’s wound which shaped and molded me into a person I am today.


After spending 20 years in therapy, that deep hole in my heart is still very much there.
And I can now finally accept and openly admit that there is NO ‘fixing’ it, there is no patching it, there is no filling it with self-love and other ultra spiritual BS.


As nothing and no one can ever replace MUM.


Accepting my raw and vulnerable truth and publicly sharing it with the world is SUPER HEALING for me.


And to MY MUM, this is my message:


I miss you and I need you so much. I always have and I always will.


I missed you breast feeding me.


I missed you singing to me and rocking me to sleep.


I missed you comforting me when I was alone crying.


I missed you taking care of me when I was sick.


I missed you watching me take my first steps.


I missed you watching me grow up.


I missed you holding me like your most precious gem.


I miss you loving me forever, like no one else ever will.


I missed you hugging me.


I missed you kissing me.


I missed you protecting me.


I missed you playing with me.


I missed you laughing with me.


I missed you physically.


I missed you emotionally.






Thank you for carrying me inside of you for nine months and giving me this precious gift called LIFE.


You are in my heart forever.