I Shouldn’t Have to Buy my Mother a Card Every Year to Thank Her for Pushing Me Out of her Flower


I Google Mother’s Day, and the second link is Debenhams. “Shop Debenhams for Mother’s Day gift ideas she will really love. Browse all from perfume, skin care and beauty gift sets to flowers, prosecco and chocolates.”

I love my mother; don’t get me wrong, I really do. If it wasn’t for her I quite literally wouldn’t be here, and that is a fact. At University, I miss her, and not just for feeding me and cleaning my clothes. I tell her how much I appreciate her; I thank her for all that she has done.

I do not have a problem with Mother’s Day per se. I think it’s important that we have a day to thank those who have done so much in our lives.

What I do have a problem with, however, is the manipulation of Mother’s Day in the UK in this day and age. What if my mother does not want perfume, skin care and beauty gift sets, flowers, prosecco and chocolates? What if she just wants a hug? Or a high-five? The commercialism of Mother’s Day is not as bad as other holidays, I’ll admit, such as Valentine’s Day, Halloween, or even Christmas, but it’s getting worse.

I’ll be honest: I just don’t like buying cards. You walk into a shop to look at cards and staring in front of you is choice. So much choice. Choice everywhere. Funny ones, plain ones, boring ones. Ones with bits sticking out, ones with strange material, ones that look like a three-year-old child has designed it with their weak hand. This isn’t exclusive to Mother’s Day; it’s the same for all occasions – birthdays, anniversaries, and so on. So much choice. Yet every single card is awful. There is something wrong with each and every card. Too pink, too ugly, too in-your-face. The result is you leaving the shop humiliated and a tad sweaty after being beaten by the cards, knowing you will have to fork out more money to pay for one online.

But I digress.

I don’t feel like I need to buy my mother a card every year to tell her that I love her. It might be nice, but in the end it gets chucked away; if it’s lucky it might get recycled. I can appreciate more than once a year.


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