Tag: Mothers

Neda Ziabakhsh, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Before I knew the world, I knew her heartbeat.

Before I could speak, I knew the language of her arms wrapped around me—warm, gentle, sure. A mother is the first love story written into the soul of a child. A quiet poem of sacrifice, whispered in daily acts of care. A soft song of strength, playing behind every smile and sigh.

My mother is not just a woman who raised me—she is the earth beneath my roots and the sky above my dreams. She is the first place I felt safe. The first eyes that looked at me like I mattered before I had done a single thing to deserve it. That kind of love—it is rare. It is sacred. It never asks to be noticed, but it transforms everything.

When she laughed, the whole house felt lighter. When she cried, even the silence wept. And when she believed in me, I could face a thousand storms with nothing but her faith as my armor.

Now, as a mother myself, I understand the weight of her invisible work. The patience that never breaks, the love that never runs dry, the dreams she quietly folded into mine. It is a love that does not need to be loud to echo forever.

To be a mother is to fall in love without end. To watch your heart live outside your body. To give, not out of duty, but out of deep, soul-rooted devotion.

And so I write this, not just as a tribute, but as a vow: I will carry your love forward. I will speak your name in the spaces where kindness blooms.

Because, in the most beautiful corners of who I am, you are there.

To my mother, and to all mothers: You are not just part of life’s story.

You are its poetry.

—

Leave your thoughts for Neda in the comments below. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube to stay up-to-date with Low Entropy news!

 

Mahsa Sheikh, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Writing about the people closest to you in life is not without challenges. You may forget how easy it is to highlight good qualities at the expense of closing eyes to unabashed weaknesses, be they big or small. When time comes to pay tribute, in lieu of rendering due homage, you may lamentably catch yourself fumbling words with unbidden disregard. Unadulterated objectivity is a myth few to none adhere to, but you cannot simply dismiss your first-hand experience living with someone dear and near, or inadequately label it as biased. One way to avoid such pitfalls is to dedicate yourself to writing about what you learned from them—lessons you took away on the art of living or surviving the day-to-day while battling life’s mishaps. I admit that I know no one better than my mother when it comes to the latter. 

My mother is a kind soul with quirks that have etched into my heart like nothing else. At the moment that I write these lines, a photo of her lucid and solemn face sits in the ivory white wood frame across from the corner where I am seated: her deep dark hazel eyes glimmer in the sepia photo, and her hair, soft with a glossy rich golden brown hue, is parted sideways and has fallen down on her white, slender shoulders, slightly covered in a little black dress. At first glance you can tell that she had a way with dressing up and looking gorgeous. This is true about each and every one of her photos, in youth all the way through to old age. Everyone in the family admits to her subtle beauty and admires her eye-catching elegance without second thought. I used to spend hours going through family photo albums, imagining her marching in her sports outfit with the lion and sun flag in hand at a ceremony attended by the late Shah, or reciting the Nightingale Pledge in scrubs and a nursing cap on her graduation day, or posing in her 70s high-rise flare jeans and feathered hair on a friend’s brand new motorcycle. My mother’s attitude toward fashion, which exudes timeless elegance and which I firmly believe is due to the fact that she studied and worked at a time when women’s rights and their freedom of choice were once promoted and openly exercised in Iran, helped me look at clothing and fashion as a reflection of one’s persona—not as fads that are the rage for a relatively short and brief period. Being elegant is, in my opinion, a great way to stand out and unleash confidence.

My mother’s taste in clothing and fashion also reflects her passion for cooking, gardening and home decoration. Intuitive, bold and creative in her very own special way, you would often catch her solving recurring household problems, such as repurposing an unused or broken tool around the house, turning the sun-baked, arid earth in the garden into a small, earthly paradise, or feeding a room full of unexpected guests on a weeknight after a long and tiring day at work—all with an unrivalled swiftness and ease that, to this day, strikes me as magic. Looking back, I can deeply relate with her strong and profound passion for living life to its fullest, notwithstanding the circumstances: her staunch tactics to save the day while taking things as they come has lighted my way to the present. Thanks to my mother, I have come to realize that simplicity is a superpower at the toughest and most complex moments in life. My mother has shown a remarkable ability to resolve issues—with simplicity as her ultimate modus operandi.

My mother’s lively imagination and dream-like vision does not conclude with her appeal to elegance and simplicity, as anyone raised by a Pisces woman would attest. Growing up, I witnessed my mother saving her last dime to turn her dream of transferring her primary residence to her children into reality. Her sacrifice, epitomized in her willingness to raise funds through financial resilience, is a lesson in endurance. If it wasn’t for my mother, I would have a much harder time realizing the importance of living within my means. Today, I take pride in following my mother’s footsteps in leading a frugal lifestyle, as I know that it’s the key to financial growth and stability.

My mother is a woman of taste whose resilience and courage in the face of hardships are truly unparalleled. Living with her taught me valuable lessons in simplicity, elegance and frugality.

—

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Neema Ejercito (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Two of the most memorable, thought-provoking pieces of writing advice I ever got was from one of those old American 50s posters that said if I wanted a career in writing, to not get married and to not have kids. By the time I’d read the advice, I already had a husband and two boys, so I thought, well, there goes that path. I’ve found, though, that maintaining a hobby (and truth be told, I have more than one) is vital to making me a sane wife, mom and human being.

My husband wanted us to have a shared hobby early on in our marriage, and though sweet, I found it a bit unnerving, as we had our two boys, one after the other, within four years of our wedding. I remember taking long out-of-town trips to catch a landscape sunrise or take a workshop on IR photography (I forgot what IR stood for). One weekend we even took a seminar at a famous artist’s home museum to learn outdoor photography.

I found, though, that freelance writing was the best, albeit not profitable, way to keep working on my craft. I could be as busy as I wanted to be and more or less choose projects that would be consistent with my particularly demanding motherhood role at the time. I was even able to teach it to a homeschool institution that included once a week class set-ups so that their homeschoolers would still experience social interactions periodically.

Since we moved to Vancouver, however, I can safely say that I am actively maintaining my writing hobby in a way I never would have thought possible if I were back in the Philippines. And the funny thing is, I thought I would be more successful there since I would have had househelp. But here in BC, I am networking, attending workshops, writing and even reading, and I am even working on my multimedia art!

Maintaining a hobby has been a lifeline to me to help me feel that I am still a person. I remember many times as a young mom I felt like I was simply a wet nurse and a sex toy, to be completely honest. Times when each physical touch from my family meant they needed something from me, to the point where, if I could have reacted instinctively, I would have flicked away any sort of affection like I would have done to a mosquito. Imagine adding that extra stress to a bubbling mass of hormones, ready to explode.

I have long made peace with wifehood and motherhood, not having them be about guilt and resentment. Those two really don’t do anybody any good. I can understand now when I read about wives and mothers who feel them, but I would like to move past them. I would love to accept their realities in my life and continue to learn ways to acknowledge and grow through them. And that is how maintaining my hobby is about self-affirmation and growth. 

Even when I am well-spent at the end of the day, I decompress by reading. Reading poetry in particular comforts me like a lovely cup of hot tea. That first line is as calming as the first inhale I take before taking that first sip. And with that, I leave you with an excerpt from James Horridge’s amazing “Hobbies,” where he compares an addiction to smoking to his hobby:

Like your head pounds

for nicotine

My head screams

to write feelings

While your fingers shake

for what you need

My fingers trace letters

on the back of my knee

—

Ever since watching Better Man with her second son, Neema Ejercito has not stopped listening to Robbie Williams’ Live at Knebworth album on Spotify. She even writes to it (much to the joy of her loving husband, who has told her to stop so that he doesn’t hate him and his music XD). She is a mother to two other humans and a bunch of plants, all of whom she adores and loves watching grow.

 

Cristina Crescenzo (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

There’s something I’ve been quietly afraid to admit: not because it’s shameful, but because it feels too vulnerable to say out loud. I’m afraid to become a mom. More specifically, I’m afraid to have a daughter. It’s not the physical tasks that scare me, due to my disability. I’m not worried about sleepless nights or teaching her how to tie her shoes. I would pick her up every time she fell and love her with everything I had. What truly terrifies me is something deeper: the emotional inheritance, the pain of girlhood that I know all too well.

I know what it’s like to hate your reflection so much you wish mirrors didn’t exist. I know the sting of being left out, the ache of hearing your name whispered behind doors you were never invited through. I remember falling for someone who didn’t like me back, and crying myself to sleep night after night, my tears soaking into the pillow like a quiet watercolor of heartbreak. These memories aren’t distant. They’ve shaped me. And while I know my mom watched those moments unfold, I sometimes forget that she may have experienced many of the same things when she was young. I forget that she once stood where I stand now, looking forward, unsure of how to protect a child from the world’s quiet cruelties.

However, there’s a truth that’s harder to say: part of me is afraid of what will happen if everything goes right for my daughter. What if she becomes everything I wasn’t? What if she’s confident, loved, popular and happy every day in ways I never felt I could be? What if she has the courage to chase the dreams I was too afraid to pursue? As much as I want her to thrive, I worry the girl I once was and still carry with me to this day might quietly resent her for it. That unspoken jealousy feels like a betrayal, and I hate that it lives somewhere inside me.

But what scares me even more is the thought that I might give her everything I have and still fall short. What if she sees my flaws, my fragility, and turns away from me? What if she grows up to hate me, and stays mad longer than I can bear? I honestly don’t know if I could handle that kind of pain, and I might wither away.

That’s why I’m afraid to be a mom. Maybe the answer lies with my own mother. Maybe I need to ask her how she did it. Did she carry these same fears? Is there anything she still holds in her heart, left unsaid, to the girl she once was? And if she does open up, I hope she’ll let me thank her, not just for loving me through everything, but also for surviving girlhood and motherhood all at once. Maybe that’s where healing begins: in understanding our mothers, not just as parents, but as women who once feared, hoped and hurt, just like we do.

—

I am just a 24-year-old finishing her English bachelor’s degree at Simon Fraser University who loves to read and write in order to help someone in some small way. I will also always advocate for mental health and disabled causes through the written word and Low Entropy lets me do just that.

 

Glenel Loring, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Once a year, we shower mom with flowers, cards and fancy brunches. Social media floods with touching tributes and perfectly filtered photos of mother-child moments. For one Sunday in May, mothers get their due.

But what about the other 364 days?

It’s worth asking whether Mother’s Day has become our collective excuse to overlook what mothers do year-round. Evidence suggests that most maternal contributions go unrecognized—until something falls through the cracks or disappears altogether.

How We Got Here

The original vision for Mother’s Day was quite different. Anna Jarvis, who pushed for the holiday after losing her own mother in 1905, wanted genuine, heartfelt recognition. When President Woodrow Wilson made it official in 1914, Jarvis likely didn’t imagine that within a few years she’d be protesting the commercialization of the very holiday she founded.

She envisioned handwritten letters, not mass-produced cards and $25 bouquets.

The Bible Got It Right

Interestingly, the commandment to “Honor your father and mother” isn’t a seasonal suggestion—it’s the fifth of the Ten Commandments. Even Jesus challenged the Pharisees for making ceremonial gestures while ignoring their duty to truly support their parents.

That sounds a lot like buying chocolates while mom continues to do 80% of the household management.

The Invisible Labor

Let’s consider the daily, invisible workload most mothers carry. Who remembers to schedule dental cleanings every six months? Who notices when shoes no longer fit, or that a relative’s birthday is coming up?

This mental load follows mothers like a shadow. A 2024 study found that moms handle approximately 71% of household mental load tasks and 79% of daily tasks like cleaning and childcare.

This unpaid labor consumes time and energy, yet it often goes unseen and unacknowledged.

“The clothes appear clean and folded. Dinner happens. Permission slips get signed. It’s all invisible until something falls through the cracks—then suddenly everyone notices.” — Jennifer, consultant and mother of three

The Emotional Heavy Lifting

But the most challenging work isn’t physical. It’s emotional.

Many mothers serve as their family’s emotional barometer and regulator. They’re the first to notice when someone’s mood shifts, a child is unusually quiet or tension is brewing.

“I’m constantly checking the room’s temperature. Who had a rough day? Who’s holding something in? I’m scanning for problems constantly, but nobody sees that happening.” — Tara, mother of two teens

This emotional vigilance rarely lets up. Most mothers describe it as working a mental double shift—managing their own emotions while tending to everyone else’s.

When Thanks Never Come

What happens when this labor is ignored?

Resentment builds. 

Research from the University of Michigan indicates that working mothers juggling multiple jobs face a higher risk of depression, particularly when dealing with nonstandard work schedules or low earnings. This underscores the importance of acknowledging and addressing the mental health needs of mothers, especially those feeling underappreciated or overwhelmed by their responsibilities.

“I coordinated every holiday gathering with my husband’s family for years. One year, I stopped. When things fell apart, instead of appreciating what I’d been doing, they got mad at me for not doing it anymore.” — Michelle, nurse and mother of four

Breaking the Cycle

No matter how beautiful, one Mother’s Day brunch can’t offset a year of invisible labor. Real change begins with consistent, daily recognition and shared responsibility.

Practical Steps:

• Name specific tasks. A simple “Thanks for handling Tommy’s school forms yesterday” means more than a vague “You’re amazing.”
• Create systems to distribute family management fairly. Recognize invisible labor like emotional support and long-term planning.
• Teach kids to express appreciation regularly, not just on holidays. Early responsibility lightens mom’s load and equips children with life skills.

Success Stories

The Rodriguez family introduced a Sunday evening family meeting. “My eight-year-old now packs her lunch,” says Elena Rodriguez. “My 12-year-old manages his sports gear. These little changes mean I’m not frantically searching for missing cleats at 7 A.M.”

Mark recognized his wife was overwhelmed by the mental load. He created a shared digital calendar, taking over half the appointments and reminders.

“It wasn’t enough to appreciate her work—I needed to share it,” he explained.

Their kids, now 10 and 14, have their calendar and manage their schedules.

Beyond Brunches and Bouquets

Mother’s Day still matters. The flowers are lovely. The pancakes are sweet. But genuine appreciation shows up in the quiet moments: noticing the late nights spent finishing school projects, saying thank you for keeping family ties strong or acknowledging the times she drops everything to handle a crisis.

I watched my sister struggle last year when her husband forgot to help their kids plan anything for Mother’s Day.

“It’s not about the gifts,” she told me. “It’s that he doesn’t see what I do every single day.” 

That conversation sparked fundamental changes in how they share parenting responsibilities—something far more valuable than any store-bought gift.

The Bottom Line

In the end, mothers want recognition for their actual contributions, not just symbolic gestures. The most meaningful Mother’s Day gift might be to see clearly, act consistently and share the work, especially when no one else is watching.

Maybe next year, we can celebrate moms by making sure they don’t need a special day to feel seen at all.

—

Leave your thoughts for Glenel in the comments below. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube to stay up-to-date with Low Entropy news!

 

Tuhin Talukder (he/him/his), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

It was the last week of August when we landed in Canada. My wife had received an incredible opportunity to pursue graduate studies at a university here. Her classes were set to begin within days. Alongside our dreams and suitcases, we brought with us our daughter, Nina—a curious, energetic two-year-old.

We applied for the BC Medical Services Plan following our move. Since we had just arrived, the process naturally took some time. Without MSP, we couldn’t register Nina in a daycare. That left us with one option: me. I became Nina’s full-time caregiver while her mom attended classes.

Back home, Nina had been going to daycare since she was seven months old. She thrived among friends and was used to a team of caregivers. Now she was confined to a small apartment, under the care of an amateur—her father.

On our first day together, I was anxious. What if she started crying for her mom? What if I failed to feed her properly? But to my surprise, the day went better than expected. With the help of some cartoons, simple food, and a few toys, we managed to build a day of laughter and calm. She even took a nap without fuss. When my wife came home, she was relieved to see Nina happy. I felt hopeful—maybe I could handle this after all.

On the second day, however, reality set in. I had job applications to submit with looming deadlines. I sat beside Nina with my laptop while she watched cartoons. The weather was grey and so was her mood. She began calling out “Mommy” repeatedly, more and more distressed. I felt the guilt creep in—I had left her emotionally unattended.

She stood by the window, waiting. Long before I noticed, she had spotted her mother returning. When my wife walked in, Nina ran and hugged her tight, clinging with all her little strength. That night, Nina tossed and turned in her sleep, mumbling softly. We suspected she was experiencing separation anxiety for her mom.

My wife and I discussed ways to improve our new routine. I shared how Nina seemed fine for the first few hours, but then boredom and restlessness would take over. We couldn’t afford many toys at the time, and screen time wasn’t a sustainable solution. My wife suggested taking her out for walks. Though the weather was growing colder—especially for us newcomers from a tropical climate—I bundled Nina up in jackets and ventured out each day. It helped. She smiled more. Our neighboring family would stop by with chocolates or small toys—little moments of warmth that brightened our days.

Even then, taking care of her was a journey full of challenges and rare victories—learning to read her needs from her gestures, adjusting routines, and constantly learning and relearning what it meant to be a parent. Some days she skipped naps. Some days she refused meals. There were moments I questioned myself as a parent. Was I doing this right? Was I giving enough? At my lowest, my wife comforted me, saying she too had faced the same struggles when she stayed with Nina. 

“No day was ever perfect with me too,” my wife said.

At the time, it sounded like a kind reassurance—perhaps more consolation than truth.

But then, something unexpected happened. After a couple of months or so, Nina started calling me “Mommy.” Not as a mistake—she continued calling her actual mommy the same. It wasn’t confusion. It was clarity. In her innocent mind, Mommy wasn’t just a person. It was a role—a symbol of care, comfort and love. That moment rewrote something inside me. I was reminded of a line from an old Nescafé song: “You can be a mother when you are a man—open up, you know that you can.”

As weeks passed, we discovered children’s programs at the local library. Nina lit up during those visits, dancing to songs and interacting with others. After a time, we secured a daycare spot for her. Now, she wakes up early in the morning and pushes us to get moving, afraid she’ll be late to meet her friends. Every evening, she runs into our arms with joy on her face. She is settling into Canadian life faster than we are—and seeing her happy is all the reward we need.

—

Tuhin Talukder is a newcomer to Canada navigating the challenges and joys of building a new life. He has a passion for storytelling and writing, drawing meaning from everyday moments of connection, compassion and cultural adaptation. He explores the unexpected moments of growth that come with embracing change.

 

Trevor Otieno (he/him/his), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness and cause peace to return to our hearts,” said Washington Irving—words that echo through generations, cultures and across every part of the wild, wide world. When the storms of life rage and the world grows quiet, a mother’s voice can cut through the chaos with calm, compassion and clarity. And while many may think of motherhood as a personal or family role, it is, in truth, a societal cornerstone.

Mother tongue, Mother Earth, Mother Nature and motherland are all terms that reflect the nurturing, life-giving and sustaining power that mothers represent. These terms are more than just metaphors; they are recognitions of the crucial role mothers play in forming society as a whole, as well as in our individual lives. A mother is at the center of every flourishing community; she is frequently unsung and unseen, but always strong.

Mothers serve as our first teachers during the formative years of our lives, laying the groundwork for who we become in our homes, as opposed to institutions. They teach more than just how to eat, walk or talk. They instill morals. In their care, we first learn about love, kindness, patience and resilience. These lessons go on to influence not only the individuals we become, but also the kind of societies we create.

A mother is an institution as well as a person. She is the teacher who teaches without a classroom, the healer who soothes without a prescription and the spiritual mentor who brings peace without sermons. Her love is incalculable and her wisdom surpasses formal education. Although a mother’s sacrifices are frequently overlooked, their effects are felt for generations to come.

Mothers are at the heart of innumerable success stories, whether they are boldly paving the way or quietly encouraging from the background. Athletes, artists, leaders and visionaries frequently attribute their strength and morals to their mothers. Dreams are encouraged and confidence is born as a result of their nurturing. A mother’s faith in her child is frequently unwavering through good times and bad. Mothers remain pillars of strength and transformation outside the home. They balance careers, advocate for their families, contribute to their communities and shape national conversations—sometimes all at once. Their contributions are incalculable, regardless of whether they are stay-at-home parents, working professionals or someone in between.

A mother’s influence endures even when she is not there. When making decisions, her words reverberate. Our treatment of others reflects her values. Her love endures and becomes ingrained in our foundation. A legacy of tenacity, love and wisdom, this ageless bond between mother and child endures beyond space and time, and is passed down through the generations.

To honor our mothers is to honor life in general. They should be publicly acknowledged for their sacrifices, which are frequently made in silence. Their unselfish love is deserving of a generous return. Whether through heartfelt words, small acts of kindness or simply spending time together, celebrating mothers should not be limited to one day or month, but embraced every single day.

I salute you.

Today, I choose to celebrate all mothers in their beautiful diversity. A mother’s instincts, feelings and thoughts are often deeply intuitive and right. I raise my voice in honor of the women who would catch a bullet for their child—mothers whose love knows no limits. Let my words reverberate throughout the world, on every continent. Families, communities and nations would not exist without mothers. In addition to bringing us into the world, they have influenced and molded the modern societies in which we live.

My thoughts and prayers are with all mothers who have suffered the loss of a child. Your fortitude in the face of unspeakable suffering is incredibly motivating. Thank you for redefining love in its purest form, to all the mothers who have welcomed adopted children into their hearts. Every mother who is raising her kids by herself is a warrior, demonstrating to the world that unwavering love, bravery and tenacity can overcome any obstacle. We honor you today. Therefore, let’s express our gratitude now, rather than waiting for special occasions. Because every successful person, group and society has a mother who gave everything she had and asked for nothing in return, let’s honor mothers’ strength, beauty and power today and forever. 

—

Trevor Otieno is a mental health advocate, educator and writer based in Nairobi, Kenya. He is passionate about using storytelling to spark hope, promote emotional well-being and drive social change.

 

Nirali Bhate, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

“Being a single mother is twice the work, twice the stress and twice the tears, but also twice the hugs, twice the love and twice the pride.” These words resonate deeply with me. The journey of raising a child alone is demanding, yet filled with an irreplaceable bond of love and strength. It’s a path that’s not always easy, but it’s one that’s worth every challenge.

Every day, I balance multiple roles: provider, nurturer, protector. But the emotional weight can sometimes feel unbearable. There’s no one to lean on when I’m feeling drained. I’m the one who listens to my boy’s fears, comforts him when he is sick and helps him navigate his struggles. It’s all part of being a mom, but there are days when exhaustion makes everything seem harder.

The clock never seems to slow down. Between work, house chores and making sure he’s okay, time feels like it’s constantly slipping through my fingers. It’s a never ending cycle of tasks with little room to breathe. And even when I manage to finish something, there’s always more waiting.

One evening, as I’m scrambling to finish work, he asks, “Mom, can we play a game together?”

My heart aches with guilt.

“Not right now, sweetheart, I need to finish this,” I tell him, even though I long to spend time with him. 

But the demands never stop, nor does the inner voice telling me I’m not doing enough.

Single moms often deal with isolation and the judgment of others. Society tends to assume that a child raised by one parent is missing something vital. But what they don’t see is the dedication, the sacrifices and the love we give. Motherhood is universal. No matter the situation, all moms understand the struggles, the doubts and the moments of pride.

Despite these challenges, my bond with my boy keeps me grounded. We’ve faced our share of hardships, but we’ve also celebrated many victories together. There’s an undeniable connection between us that gives me the strength to keep moving forward.

Single motherhood teaches resilience, patience and strength. Some days, I question my ability to keep going. But then I look at my boy and I remember why I do this. It’s for him. It’s for our future. With every obstacle, there’s a chance to grow stronger and learn more about the depths of love.

One day, he asked, “Mom, how do you do everything?”

I smiled and replied, “I don’t always get it right, but I keep trying because you’re worth it.”

Even at a young age, he’s learning about perseverance, hard work and love. He may not fully grasp it now, but I know these lessons are sinking in.

The other day, he proudly told me, “Mom, I cleaned up without you asking!”

His joy was contagious and my heart swelled with pride. In that moment, I realized that even though it’s just the two of us, we’re building something beautiful. These small victories remind me that all the effort and challenges are worth it.

Single motherhood is undeniably tough. There are moments of doubt, days when I feel like I’m falling short. But there are also moments filled with love, pride and those tiny victories that make everything worthwhile.

Building a support system is essential. Lean on friends, family or others who truly understand your journey. Don’t hesitate to ask for help and take time for yourself. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

Being a single mom is a journey full of ups and downs, but it’s also a path filled with deep love and growth. No matter how hard things get, I know I’ll always get up, keep going and do my best. Because that’s what mothers do, love unconditionally and never stop trying. Single motherhood may be hard, but it’s filled with love, resilience and a bond that nothing can break. The moments of joy and pride are what make it all worth it. In the end, it’s that love that defines your journey. No matter how tough things get, I know I’ll always get up, keep going and do my best, because that’s what mothers do.

—

Leave your thoughts for Nirali in the comments below. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube to stay up-to-date with Low Entropy news!

 

Neema Ejercito (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

What has been consistent with my pregnancy stories for all three kids is how their personalities as babies are still consistent to how they are currently. I have an adult and two teens, one of which is turning into an adult in three months! When I look at my eldest, I am still baffled that I truly raised another human being.

I have not come across any other parent who claims that their kids’s personalities’ have been consistent since they were babies. My eldest, for example, has very good fine motor skills. He is also a very neat eater, and was a very calm baby. In my tummy, he was very receptive to the music I played. Back in the day, there were no complete and comfortable gadgets to put on a pregnant lady’s tummy so that the baby could listen to classical music, which my husband had read would make for a smart baby. He did find what I would describe as larger than usual earphones, made to be put on my tummy and attached to our iPod (remember those?) with a playlist full of classical music and lullabies.

I would notice that when lullabies were played, the eldest would not be as active as when the more exciting classical pieces, like Mozart’s Eine kleine in Nachtmusik in G major, would play. And funnily enough, when he first saw a Little Einsteins video that played it with a visual of stars at night over a beautiful mountain landscape, he would call it “The Mountain Song,” one of his favourite pieces to hear.

Now he is still a proud, self-confessed and self-aware classical music snob.

When my second was in my tummy, he would NOT stop moving, no matter what music I played. My husband also said I was more lenient in my song choices, so if I was listening to EMF or Extreme,  (“Unbelievable” or “More Than Words”) I had him listen to the same. I also remember my third trimester being really uncomfortable because he would keep kicking my right rib; I didn’t know the position into which I should have adjusted myself. Sleeping became scarce. I had gotten so used to the pain, though, that by the time I finally gave birth to him, I realized immediately after, Oh, so that’s what my normal body feels like.

My pregnancy with the third was my most difficult one, because I had had two miscarriages prior to her. I recall my sister asking me after I had given birth whether it was all so worth it that I’d be willing to go through another one. It’s not a shocker that I gave her a big, flat NO. I wasn’t planning to get pregnant when I went to see my doctor to try to figure out what had been causing my miscarriages. Aside from the multitude of tests she required me to do, she also prescribed prenatal vitamins that I would not take because I did not want to be pregnant again. When the stick showed that line and I went to tell her, she asked if I had been taking my prenatals and I promptly started taking them.

At five months of pregnancy, she had me take a test to check if the baby had Down syndrome. I didn’t have to do that with my pregnancies with the boys, and at the time, this was an optional test, but given my miscarriages, she required me to take it. I thought then that tests like that help would-be parents prepare for the parenting that lay ahead. I also know now that they give women a chance to make a choice, and though I would not feel the same, I reasoned that in my case, the results would help me prepare.

I also had to inject myself with heparin, which I did for my first and third trimesters. I even cheated a bit due to my youngest brother’s Philippine wedding and did not tell my doctor that I was taking an at-least two-hour long drive to and from the provincial resort where it would be held. I also had to make sure the heparin stayed a certain temperature, otherwise its effectiveness would be void.

I don’t know if my daughter’s very apologetic personality now is due subconsciously to all of that. If my theory about my kids having consistent personalities from birth to present holds, that is a possibility. I have often wondered why it was so easy for her to apologize or even why the first song she composed was titled “Not Allowed,” but perhaps my kids have been interacting with me as much as I them, even as they were being formed.

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Ever since watching Better Man with her second son, Neema Ejercito has not stopped listening to Robbie Williams’ Live at Knebworth album on Spotify. She even writes to it, but has also discovered that writing to Death Grips is actually quite cathartic, releasing some anger and helping with her peace. She is a mother to two other humans and a bunch of plants, all of whom she adores and loves watching grow.

 

Grace Cheng (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

While motherhood is a title given at birth, its true essence is shaped by experiences, commitment and unconditional love. A mother’s journey is not a destination, but one that involves constant learning, adjusting and evolving with her children. In terms of what makes a mother a “good” one, there is no single blueprint, since it is a profoundly personal concept influenced by cultural perspectives. We can, however, follow some principles that will help us become the caring, supportive and empowered figures that our children need.

• The Importance of Presence and Connection in Building the Foundation

Becoming an effective mother begins with being present. Being physically available is not enough; you must actively engage with your children and acknowledge and validate their feelings and experiences. It is essential to spend quality time with your children by listening without judgment and looking at the world from their perspective in an environment filled with distractions. By nurturing attunement, you can recognize and respond to your child’s verbal and non-verbal cues. Your ability to recognize their subtle expressions of happiness, discomfort or fear will enable you to offer them the support, encouragement and comfort they need. The goal of attunement is not to predict all their needs or hover over them, but rather to be able to respond to their ever-changing emotional needs as they arise.

• The Myth of the “Perfect Mother” and Accepting Imperfection

Mothers should avoid chasing perfection. Pressure from society and the media to be flawless often leads to anxiety, guilt and self-doubt. Great mothers learn to embrace their flaws and accept that perfection is unattainable. Showing vulnerability and admitting mistakes and learning from them are the keys to teaching our children resilience, self-compassion and the courage to persevere. It is only by accepting our children’s imperfections that we can create a relationship that is authentic, connected and mutually satisfying.

• Safe Havens and Strong Foundations: Establishing a Secure Bond

Attachment theory emphasizes the importance of establishing a secure connection with your child. In times of stress, you need to be a consistent, reliable source of comfort and support. Attachment is a foundation for emotional health, self-worth and forming strong relationships. A great mother not only provides her child with security, but also gives them a solid foundation from which to explore the world. By encouraging independence, sparking curiosity and providing guidance, they can explore and test their boundaries. Having a solid foundation helps children develop confidence, self-reliance and the belief that they can achieve their goals. 

• Nurturing Yourself First: The Need for Self-Care

Mothers often overlook self-care, but this is a crucial aspect of motherhood. The challenge of burnout is real, and a mother who is depleted is not able to nurture her child effectively.  Maintaining your emotional health and preventing exhaustion requires prioritizing your well-being, which includes engaging in activities that refresh your mind, body and spirit. Taking care of yourself can take many forms, from simple pleasures, like relaxing with a book, to more involved activities, like exercising or socializing. Self-care is not selfish; rather, it ensures that you have the energy and emotional resources to be the best mother you can be for your children.

• Empowering Your Child to Develop a Sense of Responsibility and Growth

Great mothers know the importance of providing a loving and supportive environment, as well as encouraging their child’s independence and responsibility. By gradually letting go of control and offering them the opportunity to make their own choices, even if those choices cause them to make mistakes, you are allowing them to make their own choices. Giving children the chance to face the natural consequences of their actions is a powerful teaching tool. Developing these skills helps them develop responsibility, problem-solving skills and a sense of independence. Making them accountable for their choices gives them the tools to become self-sufficient, responsible adults.

• Active Listening and Honest Communication

Communication is the key to a strong relationship with your children. Safe spaces allow children to express their emotions, concerns and thoughts without fear of judgment. Active listening is a key component of this process. You should listen to your children not only for their words, but also for their tone, body language and unspoken messages. You must set aside your own opinions to understand their viewpoint. Active listening demonstrates to your children that you value their feelings and care about what they have to say.

• Demonstrating Desired Behavior Through Examples

Leading through actions appeals to children, and a great mother recognizes the importance of setting a good example. You can instill the qualities you want in your children—such as kindness, honesty, resilience and empathy—by modeling them, rather than simply instructing them. Embracing these virtues teaches your children what it means to be a good person, a responsible community member and a loving family member. Your example will motivate them to strive for the best version of themselves by setting a high standard.

• The Changing Face of Motherhood: Continuous Growth

The journey of motherhood is dynamic and ever-evolving. The needs and challenges of your children will evolve throughout their growing years, and so must your parenting approach. For navigating this constantly changing path, staying informed about child development, seeking advice from other parents and being open to new approaches are all crucial. The best mothers constantly challenge their assumptions, learn from their mistakes and strive to be the best parents they can be.

• Security and Self-Worth Come from Unconditional Love

The most important aspect of being a good mother is offering unconditional love and acceptance. You should love your children as they are, not as you envision them. Embracing their flaws, celebrating their strengths and supporting their journey to self-discovery are integral parts of this process. Unconditional love fosters self-worth and creates a sense of security for children. They feel valued, safe and loved no matter what they achieve or what mistakes they might make. They are encouraged to take risks, pursue their passions and grow into their best selves through this unwavering support.

In conclusion, the key to being a good mother is not to follow a rigid set of rules or strive for an unattainable goal. Embrace your child’s journey, pay attention to their needs, nurture a secure bond, prioritize self-care and empower them to grow into an independent, responsible and loving adult. Safe haven, security and unconditional acceptance are all part of the foundation. As a mother, nurturing comes down to being unwavering in your commitment to your child’s well-being and believing in their potential.

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Grace has an accounting and finance background. She enjoys reading, writing, listening to music, watching movies and playing sports.

 

Diny Davis (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

“Behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begins” – Mitch Albom

Growing up, our mothers play a crucial role in shaping who we become. They are our first teachers, nurturers and role models. As I reflect on my childhood and the lessons I’ve learned, I realize just how much my mom has taught me over the years. In this blog post, I’ll share some of the most important lessons my mother has passed on to me, and why mothers are often considered the best role models and sources of inspiration. Mothers hold a special place in our hearts and society.

Kindness and Empathy

My mom always emphasized the importance of being kind to others. She taught me that helping others brings joy to both the giver and the receiver, and small acts of kindness can make a big difference in someone’s day.

Hard Work and Perseverance

One of the most valuable lessons my mom taught me was the importance of hard work and never giving up. She showed me that success comes from dedication and effort. And the challenges that we face are opportunities for growth.

Watching her juggle multiple responsibilities made me realize that it’s not impossible to multitask, setting an inspiring example for me to follow.

Financial Responsibility

My mom made sure I understood the value of money from a young age. She taught me the importance of saving for the future, and how to budget and prioritize our expenses. She also made me understand the difference between needs and wants so that I didn’t spend on unnecessary things. These lessons have been invaluable in helping me manage my finances as an adult.

Self-Care and Health

Taking care of oneself was another important lesson my mom instilled in me. She emphasized that a balanced diet and regular exercise are very important for longevity. At the age of 65, her focus on self-care as she prioritizes her morning yoga and evening walk has helped me to maintain a healthier lifestyle as I’ve grown older.

The Power of Education

My mom always stressed the importance of learning and expanding one’s knowledge. She taught me that education is a lifelong journey, and curiosity and asking questions lead to growth. Her encouragement to pursue knowledge has fueled my passion for learning throughout my life.

The Best Role Model

Mothers often set the standard for behavior, work ethic and values within the family. Their actions speak louder than words, showing children how to navigate life’s challenges with grace and determination.

Teaching Life Skills

From cooking and cleaning to managing finances and maintaining relationships, mothers are often our first teachers in essential life skills. They prepare us for the world beyond our homes.

Emotional Intelligence

Mothers can excel in understanding and managing emotions, both their own and those of others. This ability to empathize and communicate effectively can make them excellent role models for emotional intelligence.

Unconditional Love

The depth of a mother’s love is often described as unconditional. This selfless devotion can inspire us to be more compassionate and caring in our own relationships.

Creating a Home

Beyond just a physical space, mothers often create a sense of “home” —a place of comfort, safety and belonging for their families. We might have a favourite meal that is cooked by mom and, no matter how many times you make it, trust me, it doesn’t taste like mom makes. Right?

Advocate and Protector

Mothers frequently serve as their children’s first and most passionate advocates, protecting them and fighting for their best interests. Making sure that her children are getting what they deserve and seeing them happy is what makes a mom the happiest.

Nurturing Growth

Mothers are typically at the forefront of their children’s development, fostering physical, emotional and intellectual growth with unwavering dedication. I am so proud to mention that my mom has excelled in all her roles, be it as a wife, mother, mother-in law or grandmother. 

The lessons my mom taught me have shaped who I am today. Her wisdom, love and guidance have been invaluable in my personal growth and development. As I continue to navigate life’s challenges, I’m grateful for the strong foundation she provided and the endless support she continues to offer.

Their love, dedication and resilience make them outstanding role models and sources of inspiration for us all. Mothers are the nurturers, caregivers and often the unsung heroes of our lives.

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Diny Davis is an aspiring author who is passionate about fitness and a strong believer in the close connection between physical and mental health. She is a journalism, psychology and literature graduate, a loving wife, and a caring mother who maintains a balance in her work and personal lives while giving emphasis to self-care.

 

Cassandra Di Lalla (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

My mom is the definition of perfect in my eyes. She’s done everything right in terms of being my mother. She’s always given me unconditional love, care and support, despite me being a lot to handle sometimes. 

I already tell my mom how much I love her and how much I care about her. I also tell her how important she is to me and how I couldn’t imagine life without her. I fear for that day to come, when my mother is no longer walking the earth. What will I do without my mom? How will I manage without her? 

I don’t know what it is, but my mother’s love and the comfort she brings me are always things I’ll hold on to. I don’t think age has anything to do with it, because I will always need my mom. When I’m not feeling well—whether it’s my mind, body or soul—who do you think I go to? My mom. She seems to know what to do or what to say 99% of the time. I may not agree with all of it, but it doesn’t even matter, because she knows best. I truly believe that. 

I view my mom as a healer, and I wish I’d tell her that more often. Motherly instinct? I don’t know, because I don’t think I’d ever have those kinds of superpowers. And yes, I call them superpowers, because in what world would I ever be able to amount to her capabilities? She’s very strong-willed. There have been many occasions where her healing has been miraculous. I’ve struggled in more ways than one and believe me, my mom was my guiding light. How did she do it? No idea, but I’m grateful. 

I wish I’d tell her more often how proud I am of her. I’m proud of her dedication and drive that allowed her to achieve many great things in life. I’m proud to call her my mom, and I’d choose her as my mom in every single lifetime. I’m so happy that she finally retired and is giving herself the time to do the things that she loves. It’s well deserved.

I wish I’d tell her more often that her gut instinct is accurate 99% of the time, and I wish I’d stop myself from being so stubborn sometimes. I would say “thank you” more often, because I’m more thankful than I ever really express. I don’t think my mom will ever truly know or understand the positive impact she has had on my life so far. She’s managed to pull me out of some really dark places, and she’s managed to do it with grace. She’s able to redirect my energy and shift my focus when she knows I’m unable to do so myself.

I wish I’d tell her more often that the things I’m suffering through do not equate to her being a bad mom. My traumas have zero reflection on her as a mother. She’s not responsible for my pain. I wish she knew that she’s one of the very few people I’m comfortably vulnerable with, and that she’s my angel on Earth.

I wish I’d tell her more often that the petty arguments we have will mean nothing the next day, because my love for her is stronger than the anger or sadness I feel in those moments. 

I wish I’d tell her more often how appreciative I am of the lessons she’s taught me and all the creative freedom she’s given me from day one. She’s always been supportive of my creative endeavours, and not once did she ever say no when I wanted to partake in a million and one different activities or programs. And still to this day, she encourages me to do the things I love most, putting top priority on making sure they bring me peace or put my mind at ease.

I wish I’d tell her more often to not take things so seriously. Life is too short not to laugh, smile or be silly. My mom worries a lot, and she doesn’t let the little kid in her come out too often. I wish I’d encourage that more, because having fun is one of life’s many pleasures. She needs to know that her age shouldn’t define how often she can laugh or goof around. Her chronological age shouldn’t be the reason why she cannot enjoy funny videos or laugh at clothes not fitting right. Laughing costs nothing. 

I wish, I wish, I wish . . . a million times over . . . that she would know how irreplaceable she is and how much I value her.

She’s not only my mom, she’s my best friend.

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Cassandra Di Lalla lives life purposefully. She enjoys reading, writing and mental health initiatives. She’s an animal lover for life and an innovative individual always finding new ways to create.