The Way You Knew How: A Letter to Mom
I can now see all the ways you loved me — differently, perhaps, but in the ways you
knew how.
Dear Mom,
It’s taken me six decades to build and release the hurts, and to now stand clear and grateful. We women are as diverse as the stars in the sky!
We are such different emotional beings.
And yet now, I see how much alike we are — and how much you, and even the hurt, have made me who I am.
Our generations asked such different things of us. In your time, even as an Ivy League graduate, you were expected to raise a family and were offered limited professional opportunities.
For me, i graduated into a world where any young woman worth anything should build a career. And raise children. And somehow do both without role models showing us how.
But ah, how blessed we are. We have both loved our families deeply and pursued work that has been meaningful to us.
As firstborn daughters, we’ve both been driven to accomplish. to prove ourselves. to be enough for our parents — and for our world.
I’ve had to ask myself whether some of the hurt was self-inflicted, though. All those years of focusing on where I’d fallen short rather than recognizing the good. All those years of resisting your accolades because they were centered on achievement rather than simply who I was. All those years of hesitantly accepting gifts that felt as though they came with strings attached.
I’ve come to a simple recognition: neither of us felt loved in the ways we most needed by our parents. It explains so much with tender compassion. It is enough to leave it there.
And somehow, that realization binds us together all these years later, as I’ve finally embraced the silver lining. I can now see all the ways you loved me — differently, perhaps, but in the ways you knew how.
You always supported whatever I was involved in.
You allowed me to leave home during my first year of high school to pursue my dream of becoming a dancer. You never stifled my aspirations.
You showed me the world. Traveling together has always been our happy place.
You have been an example of a woman passionately committed to her work and her community. Cultural philanthropy has been your family’s legacy, and I’m proud of how you’ve carried it on.
It’s been hard at times not to have the means to be generous in the same way. But I now see that I’ve developed my own sense of generosity. I am my own woman — as you would want.
Around the corner of each hurt came the discovery of my own way of doing things. And through it all, you’ve never questioned me.
Mama, I love your energy and joy. Your lust for learning and your citizen advocacy. Your positivity and love for God, your best friend. You never complain. Never gossip. Never ask much of me. You are self sufficient and love your life!
Here is the honest landing: as I’ve come to be enough for myself — as I’ve honed self-awareness and learned to love myself the way I need to be loved — I’ve released any blame of you. I see you now in the light you’ve always carried. The light between us is uniquely ours.
We must weigh the hurt we believe others have inflicted against intention. Against motive. Against what another person’s own wounds may have led them to do.
Not to justify the pain, but perhaps to understand it with greater compassion.
All either of us has ever truly meant to do is love — Divine Love, family, friends, dreams, and the opportunities we’ve had to give.
After all, you once asked me, “Have you ever realized that you’re happiest when you’re serving others?”
Indeed. We both are.
And perhaps that is how healing travels through generations — not perfectly, but consciously. From your mother, who carried her own burdens into motherhood, to you, who gave me both freedom and drive, to your granddaughter, who is thoughtfully, courageously forging her own way no matter what the world says.
Maybe this is what progress truly looks like: not the absence of hurt, but the growing capacity to meet one another with understanding, grace, and love.
And maybe that is enough — that each generation learns to love a little more consciously than the one before it.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.
I love you. XOX
Jennifer, the founder of Honest Heart Journeys, is a woman wholeheartedly embracing the ongoing journey of self-awareness, growth, and deep, authentic connection. She has found her calling in celebrating women’s unique gifts through shared restorative experiences.
By creating spaces where women can return to themselves, find clarity, and build healing sisterhood, Jennifer began HHJ as both a movement toward a more intuitive, collaborative world and a foundation for trusted, lifelong friendships.
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