Like many people, one of the first things I do upon waking is check my phone, scrolling through social media to catch up on what I’ve missed. However, on Mother’s Day, my feed becomes overwhelmed with photos of stunning floral arrangements, breakfast trays adorned with treats, and heartfelt cards crafted by little hands.
Ellen Manning, who is pictured alongside her husband Jamie and their beloved dogs, made the conscious decision to remain childless. She believes that all women deserve acknowledgment, not just mothers. At 42, Ellen has experienced the emotional toll of two terminations and feels that women like her are often overlooked.
I don’t have children, and that is a choice I’ve made. After undergoing two terminations, I can’t help but wonder about those of us who opt not to be mothers and find ourselves forgotten not only on Mother’s Day but throughout the entire year. Where is my card? My bouquet of flowers? My lovely daffodils on a tray?
I have dedicated countless hours to attending baby showers, endured endless lunches with toddlers covered in sticky fingers tossing food around, and even found myself wedged in slides at soft play areas, all to show my friends with children that I will always be there for them, no matter the circumstances. Over the years, I’ve spent hundreds of pounds on gifts for baby showers, children’s birthdays, and festive occasions. Yet, I receive nothing in return.
Where is the small token of acknowledgment for all the positive contributions childless women make to society? Where is our day?
It seems that my friends rarely inquire about my well-being, while I make it a priority to check in on them often. It feels like a one-way street, where I lack the same recognition or care simply because I have not become a parent. There’s an implication that I cannot possibly comprehend stress, as I’ve never experienced the challenges of caring for a crying infant or toddler around the clock or navigating the school run.
‘I’m not allowed to say I’m tired’
Despite the staggering £1.6 billion spent on Mother’s Day in 2024, couldn’t we allocate some of that money to a day dedicated to celebrating those of us who are non-moms? Especially since we are no longer the ‘minority’ group we once were. A recent study by investment bank Morgan Stanley predicts that by 2030, around 45 percent of women aged 25 to 44 will be not only childless but also single.
The tide is turning, yet women in my position continue to face judgment and are labeled as selfish. Furthermore, I’ve encountered pointed remarks from my mom friends. I’m told I shouldn’t express that I’m tired because I “can’t possibly know what tiredness is.” Genuine fatigue seems to be reserved for those women whose sleep is perpetually interrupted by children. I often find myself in awkward silence while my mom friends discuss their children for hours, either unaware or indifferent to my inability to engage in such conversations.
Who wants to be the woman sitting in the corner, feeling unworthy of the special treatment that mothers receive?
I have no doubt that being part of the ‘mom club’ is a rewarding experience, but it’s undeniably an exclusive group. If you’re not part of it, you may as well go home. TV presenter and model Kelly Brook, 45, recently expressed her sadness over losing friends due to her choice not to have children. Rather than finding empathy for Kelly, some mothers took to X (formerly Twitter) to confess they, too, had distanced themselves from childless friends because they felt we could never understand their experiences.
It’s the ultimate insult. While I don’t oppose Mother’s Day—moms certainly deserve recognition on this special occasion—there’s a noticeable absence of celebration for those of us who are childless, whether due to infertility or, as in my case, by choice. We often find ourselves quietly relegated to the sidelines.
On Mumsnet, discussions about ‘Mother’s Day disappointment’ reveal many mothers expressing their concerns over not receiving the treatment they believe they deserve on this holiday. Welcome to my reality.
Some may argue that women like me have International Women’s Day. But it simply isn’t the same, is it?
Of course, I make it a point to treat my own mother on Mother’s Day, ensuring she knows I recognize the immense responsibilities and sacrifices of motherhood and that I genuinely appreciate it. While Mother’s Day is a joyous occasion for countless individuals, this year, let’s take a moment to consider how painfully difficult it can be for women without children—especially those who long to be mothers but cannot, as well as those of us who choose not to be.
A nearby upscale bar is promoting ‘free pink fizz for all moms’ on Mother’s Day, which automatically excludes me. Another establishment is offering a ‘pot plant for all moms and expectant moms.’ I think I’ll opt to stay in instead. After all, who wants to be the woman in the corner who isn’t deemed special enough to enjoy the extra special treatment that mothers receive?
Ellen reflects on her spending for friends’ children and questions why childless women receive nothing in return.
