Don't Make it About You

We can end the long and growing list of "pain acknowledgements," one person at a time.

May 13, 2024

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I have noticed over the last decade or so, a trend which I dislike immensely. Before every holiday, it would seem, the social media posts make the rounds. Like these accursed land acknowledgements before a symphony concert at a hall on a plot where indigenous people once lived, leaving everyone there who can do nothing about the bad thing that happened vaguely disturbed as they’re about to enjoy some lovely music, so go the list of “pain acknowledgements” before holidays.

Unlike the motivation behind the land acknowledgement which I would argue is generally malevolent, I think the motivation behind this list of qualifiers is generally well-meaning. But it doesn’t do much good, and will likely lead to a flattening of merriment. Eventually, we will have no mention of special holidays for fear that someone, somewhere will have their feelings hurt or have some past memory “brought up” to haunt them.

Behold, an example of a “pain acknowledgement” found in its natural habitat, social media:

Yesterday, as you know, was Mother’s Day which is why I am thinking of this at all. For a week prior to this day for the past five years or so, I’ll see social media posts mentioning all the people who have a hard time on Mother’s Day.

Those who can’t have children.
Those who have had miscarriages and no live children.
Those who are estranged from their children.
Those who have difficult relationships with their mothers.
Those who were adopted and never knew their biological mothers.
Those whose mother’s abused them.
Those who believe they failed as mothers.
Those who don’t want to have children. (Let me just state for the record that “those who choose not to be mothers” do not need special care on Mother’s Day.)
Those who have disabled children…

The list has become quite exhaustive, and frankly, exhausting. It’s a strange phenomenon, indeed, where modern humans feel compelled to point out that some people aren’t having a nice day on days that are nice. People who are innocently enjoying themselves should “be informed of this” and “bring awareness” so that those who are not having a nice time can “be supported.” How? How does blunting everyone’s nice time support you? I’m so over it.

And now I must qualify my statement with personal experience so that the overly-sensitive do not attack me for not being sensitive enough. (This is a thing I also hate about our current moment. Truth, if it is truth, should be accepted by the listener and whether the speaker has personal experience with the topic or not.) But this is, unfortunately, the way many think right now, so here goes:

I got married eight and a half years ago, hoping to have my home filled with children by now. I have no children. I have not done anything to prevent their conception. God has simply not given them to me and my husband even though they are very much desired. I know the pain of passing years without the blessing of the thing you want so much it hurts in the very core of your being. I know it well. I was single for a long time when I really didn’t want to be for starters. I wasn’t the kind of girl suitors lined up around the block for. My dad didn’t have to fend them off, they just weren’t interested. Next year, I will be 40. I know the odds are not at all in my favor at this point. Each monthly cycle for me, is an invitation to grieve the loss of time and a future legacy. And often, I do. I did it just two weeks ago. I wept. Then I dried my tears and began thanking God for His abundant blessing in my life. There you have it.

Now that we have that out of the way, I will continue. The thing that irks me about this “pain acknowledgement” trend is that it encourages self-centered, introspective, pity parties. I despise self-pity, especially when I see it in myself. The reason these lists of pain acknowledgements exist is because those in pain are weaponizing empathy against good-willed people who wish to be compassionate and sensitive and kind, ladening them down with heavy burdens they aren’t meant to bear.

They are making the day all about themselves. This is selfish.

Do you think pain is unique to you? In fact, the ways in which people experience pain and deep disappointment in their lives are about as variable and unique as there are people in the world. In this respect, we are all the same. Not very unique at all. And given this, we might as well stop celebrating all holidays immediately and make life as bland as plain rice if we must acknowledge every person’s pain related to that occasion. It would take all year!

So, if you are doing this, I am officially inviting you to stop. Don’t make these days all about you. It’s not good for you and it hurts others.

I am not inviting you to a cold, buttoned-up stoicism. I’m not telling you to deny your pain and shove it down. Yes, cry your tears and remember that God holds them for you in a bottle. Share your struggles with a few, trustworthy friends and ask them to pray for you when these special days are hard. But don’t shut yourself off or insist that society “become aware” of your niche pain. Don’t stay home from church on the day when mother’s get a special mention from the pulpit. Or fathers, for that matter, as Father’s Day is fast approaching.

Much is made of the command to weep with them that weep right now. But the command to rejoice with them that rejoice gets barely a mention. Do you suppose it would have to be commanded if it was second nature? Do you want to be the sort of person your family and friends have to tip toe around when there’s a new pregnancy because they’re not sure how you’ll take the news? I don’t. And besides, wallowing in one’s misery is only fun for so long. I’d rather have a good time celebrating.

So, how to change this dreadful, self-pitying habit? First, ask the Lord to help you overcome your self-centeredness. You cannot overcome anything without His divine intervention and assistance. Then begin disciplining your mind with gratitude. But beware. It’s at this point your old selfish self will begin throwing up all kinds of reasons you can’t possibly be grateful about this day you find so hard.

“Well, my mother was abusive” or “My mother didn’t want me and gave me up for adoption.”

That is a great evil and shouldn’t have been. Now, thank God for your life which He gave you through your mother’s body. After all, it’s still legal for women to kill their unborn children in all fifty states, and yours didn’t.

“My daughter won’t speak to me.”

I’m sorry. That is a grief hard to bear. Thank God that while you both live, there is still hope of repair.

“I can’t have children.”

I know that’s hard. Thank God for the good desire God gave you and for the nurturing spirit you possess which some women do not have. Now go and nurture as many spiritual children as you can for the good of His kingdom and His church.

“I lost all my babies.”

This, too, is a great evil. No parent should have to bury their children or lose them mid-pregnancy. Now, thank God that for the child of God, nothing lost is lost forever. For the child of God, everything lost will be restored in Heaven. You will see them again.

(This last one means much to me as I think of my dad in Heaven right now with the two children he and my mom never got to meet as well as the grandchildren lost in utero. My dad loved children so much. For this reason and so many more, he is experiencing great joy right now.)

I think you get my point. For every disappointment and heartache there is a corollary of gratitude to be found. If there isn’t, you may need to examine whether you really are a child of God. I can say this because God says it in His Word, and because I’ve seen it in my own life. (But primarily because God said it.) God’s children are a grateful people.

The last step to overcoming this is getting outside the prison of your mind, heartaches, and disappointments to be a blessing or encouragement to someone else. Don’t scroll past those happy photos of kids making breakfast for mom. Bask in the beauty of the scene. Be happy that they are learning to serve mom instead of being perpetually served by her. It’s wholesome and healthy. Wish that glowing pregnant lady a Happy Mother’s Day and mean it. Help hold the fussy baby. Help the struggling mom of cantankerous littles wrangle the kids.

You may cry into your pillow at night, but you will have shifted something inside which will lead, perhaps slowly but eventually, to healing.

By the way, healing doesn’t mean you never cry. It just means you can take the daily ebb and flow of life with its pain and pleasure as it comes instead of fighting it or making everyone walk on egg shells around you because of it.

And so, to all you lovelies out there, Happy (belated) Mother’s Day!

That’s all for now. Until next time, folks…

Amanda’s Substack

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