Quick Answer
This episode honors mothers whose Mother’s Day reality differs dramatically from the idealized brunch and flowers. Brenda Zane acknowledges the fear, stigma, and constant vigilance these moms experience, offering compassion and practical support for getting through difficult holidays.
Key Takeaways
- Mother’s Day can be an especially painful holiday for moms whose children struggle with substance use
- The stigma surrounding parents of children with substance use disorders adds isolation to an already difficult situation
- Anticipatory anxiety and fear are constant companions for these mothers
- This challenging period is just one chapter in your family’s story, not the entire book
- Community support and treating yourself with compassion are essential survival tools
In this article
Episode Resources
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Mother’s Day arrives each year wrapped in images of brunches, flowers, and heartfelt cards. But for mothers whose children struggle with substance misuse, this holiday can feel like a cruel reminder of how different their reality is from the idealized celebration society expects.
Brenda Zane opens this episode with a compassionate acknowledgment of the mothers who won’t receive the picture-perfect Mother’s Day. These are the moms who live in a state of constant vigilance and fear, whose daily experience looks nothing like the greeting card version.
‘She will wonder what her child is eating at their sober living house, 1500 miles away, or linger in her room a little longer, not wanting to face the drama of the day ahead.’ — Brenda Zane
The Weight of Stigma and Fear
Beyond the practical challenges of parenting a child through substance misuse, these mothers carry an additional burden: stigma. Society often silently judges, suggesting their parenting somehow failed, that they should have done more, been better, read different books.
‘There’s a stigma that says she went wrong somewhere along the way, and maybe if her parenting skills were more advanced, or if she were more enlightened, or did enough yoga, or read the right books, her daughter wouldn’t be living in a motel with her dealer.’ — Brenda Zane
The constant fear is exhausting. These mothers live knowing that any phone call could bring devastating news—an overdose, an arrest, or worse, no call at all when one is expected. They remember when life felt right side up, when they didn’t need to sleep with their purse under their pillow.
What She Really Wants
The mothers Brenda describes don’t need elaborate gifts or expensive brunches. What they crave is simple, yet feels impossibly distant: normal conversation.
‘This mom would pay cash to have a conversation about the weather, who’s dating who, or what campsite has been reserved for the 4th of July.’ — Brenda Zane
They want to talk about ordinary things—weather, vacation plans, neighborhood gossip—instead of detox schedules, legal matters, or whether their child is safe.
This Is Just a Chapter
Brenda offers perspective that can be hard to maintain when you’re in the midst of crisis. The pain and fear consuming today’s experience is not the entire story of your life or your child’s life.
‘Try to get some sun and fresh air on your face. Take a few deep breaths and remember this is a chapter of your story, Not the whole book.’ — Brenda Zane
Whether you’re in a place of gratitude because things are improving, or you’re still deep in the anxiety and pain, this moment is temporary. The key is finding ways to care for yourself while you navigate this chapter.
Practical Support for Getting Through
Brenda offers concrete suggestions for managing difficult holidays like Mother’s Day. She encourages giving yourself and others grace, recognizing that people may not know what to say. Assume good intent from those who stumble through conversations with you.
If you’re experiencing some stability with your child right now, use Mother’s Day to practice gratitude for the progress made. If you’re still struggling, focus on basic self-care: get outside, breathe deeply, and treat yourself to something special.
‘Treat yourself to something special and delicious, and know you are not doing this alone.’ — Brenda Zane
Seeing the Invisible Mothers
Brenda closes with a powerful reminder that the young person struggling with addiction—whether panhandling at a freeway off-ramp or living in circumstances no parent imagined—has a mother who loves them. That mother is not so different from you.
This episode serves as both acknowledgment and invitation: acknowledgment of the unique pain these mothers carry, and an invitation to find support through community. Because while the journey feels isolating, you truly are not alone.
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Frequently Asked Questions
Why is Mother’s Day particularly difficult for mothers of children with substance use issues?
Mother’s Day highlights the contrast between idealized family celebrations and the reality many of these mothers face—constant worry about their child’s safety, inability to have normal conversations, and the stigma that suggests they somehow failed as parents.
What do mothers of children struggling with addiction really want on Mother’s Day?
More than gifts or brunches, these mothers want simple, normal conversation—to talk about the weather, who’s dating who, or vacation plans instead of detox schedules, legal issues, or whether their child is safe.
How can I cope with the stigma of having a child who misuses drugs or alcohol?
Remember that stigma reflects society’s misunderstanding, not your failure as a parent. Assume good intent from others who may not know what to say, give yourself grace, and connect with communities of parents who truly understand your experience.
What should I do if I’m overwhelmed with fear about my child’s substance use?
Take it one day at a time. Get sun and fresh air, practice deep breathing, and remember this is a chapter of your story, not the whole book. Treat yourself with compassion and reach out for support from others who understand.
How can I practice gratitude when my child is still struggling with substances?
If you’re in a better place right now, acknowledge even small progress your family has made. If you’re still in pain, focus on getting through each day with basic self-care rather than forcing gratitude you don’t feel.
Where can I find support as a parent of a child misusing drugs or alcohol?
Connect with communities specifically designed for parents navigating this journey, such as HopeStreamCommunity.org, where you can find understanding, practical support, and the reminder that you’re not alone.
AI Answer Summary
This episode honors mothers whose Mother’s Day experience differs dramatically from the idealized celebration. Brenda Zane acknowledges the fear, stigma, and constant vigilance that define daily life for mothers of children struggling with substance use. She offers compassionate perspective that this difficult period is just one chapter, not the entire story, while providing practical suggestions for getting through painful holidays: assume good intent from others, practice gratitude if possible, focus on basic self-care, and remember you’re not alone in this journey.
Transcript
Brenda:
0:01From one mom to another, I wish you as much peace and comfort as you can muster. If you’re in a good place right now with your child, I hope you’ll spend a few minutes in some sort of gratitude practice to acknowledge the progress you’ve all made as a family. And if you’re still in the pain and anxiety is eating away at you, know that this too shall pass. Try to get some sun and fresh air on your face. Take a few deep breaths and remember this is a chapter of your story, Not the whole book. You’re listening to HopeStream. If you’re parenting a young person who misuses substances, is in a treatment program, or finding their way to recovery, you have landed in the right place. This is your private space to learn from experts and gain encouragement and support from me, Brenda Zane, your host and fellow mom to a child who struggled. This podcast is just one of the resources that we offer for parents. So after the episode, head over to our website, HopeStreamCommunity. org. I am so glad you’re here. Take a deep breath, exhale, and know that you have found your people. Now let’s get into today’s show. Hey friend, well not only is it just us today, it is us on the week of Mother’s Day. I know this can be a tricky holiday depending on where you are on the roller coaster ride, so it’s a bit of a challenge to know what to say. I bet there are people in your life who also don’t really know what to say if you’re in the thick of it and you have a child struggling. My best advice is to assume good intent and know that people generally are very compassionate and want to be sensitive to how you might be feeling. So give yourself and those around you a hearty dose of grace this week and weekend. A while back in 2020, I wrote a piece in an attempt to share with the world what it is like to be a mom on Mother’s Day when you have a child who is struggling and at risk. It felt important because I had personally spent so many Mother’s Days just wishing things would be different, or some years wishing it wasn’t Mother’s Day at all. I went back to that piece this week in honor of Mother’s Day 2024, and I decided to add new thoughts I’ve had in the four years since I wrote the original. And that is what I would like to share with you today. It may be something you want to pass along to those in your life who don’t understand what you go through, because you are probably too exhausted to explain it. Mother’s day. It is supposed to be a day when you wear a beautiful outfit that fits perfectly by the way, to a sumptuous patio brunch, not cooked by you, Surrounded by the family members whom you are mothering. In the middle of the table stands a riotous bouquet of your favorite flowers, and you spend a sunny but not too hot morning eating your favorite foods. and chatting with your family. After they do the dishes, they surprise you by planting fresh herbs and heirloom tomatoes in a raised garden bed at the edge of your freshly landscaped yard. You observe this heartwarming activity from your vantage point in a new rattan patio sectional, sipping freshly brewed iced tea. How am I doing? Sound like your mother’s day? If so, I am truly thrilled for you. It means you are on the better side of your family struggles and you should relish every second of this experience. For some though, there’s another reality that plays out on a day like Mother’s Day. For the mom who has a child, regardless of age, who’s misusing, or addicted to drugs and alcohol. Life probably isn’t as tranquil or predictable as the image I just painted for you, and that can be painful. For a mom whose child or children wrestle with substances, she will experience anticipatory anxiety, wondering whether or not they’re alive. Let alone whether they’ll be coming over for French toast. She will wonder what her child is eating at their sober living house, 1500 miles away, or linger in her room a little longer, not wanting to face the drama of the day ahead. She may be foggy from lack of sleep, wondering how her child will spend their recent paycheck. Knowing it most likely won’t be to pay bills, buy food, or secure a place to live. She will hope it doesn’t go straight into their nose, vein, or mouth, continuing a cycle that holds them hostage another day. This mom lives in constant fear and dread that today might be the day she gets the phone call about an overdose, a collect call from jail, or worse, no call at all. She may get a text that promises, absolutely swears he’ll stop by later. Only she knows to place hope in that would be a predictable mistake. She might also be the mom who doesn’t even realize it’s Mother’s Day because after months of fighting, begging, and pleading, her daughters finally agreed to go to detox, only to find out the first bed won’t be open until next Tuesday. Mother’s Day? What? People on the outside don’t see that this mom is just like the one brunching on the patio. She created, birthed or adopted, diapered and carpooled this human being and she should be celebrated for it. But she’s looked at as if she’s somehow responsible for the fact her son steals laptops to pawn so he can buy street Suboxone to stave off the horrors of withdrawal. There’s a stigma that says she went wrong somewhere along the way, and maybe if her parenting skills were more advanced, or if she were more enlightened, or did enough yoga, or read the right books, her daughter wouldn’t be living in a motel with her dealer. This mom envies those who brunch peacefully with their kids, the ones who actually showed up to the restaurant sober and on time, kids who somewhere along the way found coping skills that don’t involve poisoning their bodies and numbing their souls. This mom would pay cash to have a conversation about the weather, who’s dating who, or what campsite has been reserved for the 4th of July. She craves normal, covets the mundane parts of life that don’t even make the radar of a mom whose kids are healthy. She doesn’t blame them. She just wants to rewind. She remembers when life was right side up and she didn’t have to sleep with her purse under her pillow. She can still smell the innocence of baby shampoo lingering in her daughter’s hair after a bath. She is still known as the best lacrosse team mom. Until she had to resign when her son went away to treatment and she didn’t have the strength to face the other parents on the field. It wasn’t always like this, and she pulls at the memories of better, brighter days as if to prove to herself that Mother’s Day, at one time, was a happy day. On Sunday, she will be home, heart and spirit heavy. She might make herself some toast with extra peanut butter as a nod to what advertisers tell her is her special day. She will check her phone again, making sure it’s not on silent, making sure it’s fully charged. This Mother’s Day, or any day, When you see that kid at the end of the freeway off ramp with a cardboard sign, tattered backpack, and defeated face, know this mom is his, and she’s not much different from you. And if you offer to let him use your phone, don’t be surprised if you hear him say, Hey, mom, it’s me. I love you. From one mom to another, I wish you as much peace and comfort as you can muster. If you’re in a good place right now with your child, I hope you’ll spend a few minutes in some sort of gratitude practice to acknowledge the progress you’ve all made as a family. And if you’re still in the pain and anxiety is eating away at you, know that this too shall pass. Try to get some sun and fresh air on your face. Take a few deep breaths and remember this is a chapter of your story, Not the whole book. Treat yourself to something special and delicious, and know you are not doing this alone. If you could use some extra support right now, please know Hope’s Dream exists solely to serve parents of kids struggling with substance use, and we would love to have you join us in one of our private, confidential online communities. It’s a place where you’ll learn new tools and skills for the challenges you face, And importantly, you’ll be surrounded in a judgment free space by other parents who get it. You can learn more and take advantage of a two week free trial at hope stream community. org. Thanks for being here. My friend, thank you for doing the hard work. You are incredible. And I will meet you right back here next week.
