Morning Reflection: This Is an Epidemic

THE DISPOSABLE MOTHER:

A Cultural Indictment of misdiagnosed memories, emotional propaganda and the silencing of the woman who stayed.

There is a quiet war being waged. And the casualty? The Mother. Not the absent one. Not the abusive one. But the one that stayed. The one who broke herself into pieces to keep everything together. The one who gave up her own identity so that her children could find theirs.

The one who fed, clothed, soothed, worked, showed up, and still got labeled toxic.

And what does culture tell her now? Shut up. Don’t complain.

Don’t have needs.

Don’t have feelings.

Don’t be angry.

Don’t be tired.

Don’t be hurt.

Just vanish. Quietly, gracefully and invisibly.

Do this so your Adult Children can finish the story of your failure without you…

There’s a new epidemic.

It’s not viral — it’s emotional.

And its symptoms are silence, shame, and scapegoating.

It’s the epidemic of the disposable mother.

Not the abusive one.

Not the neglectful one.

But the one who stayed.

The one who gave everything — her time, her youth, her identity — and is now being erased from the narrative. Diagnosed without a voice. Abandoned in the name of “healing.” Labeled toxic for having emotions. Forgotten for simply being human.

This isn’t just a few hurt feelings.

This is a widespread cultural phenomenon.

An epidemic of estrangement, misdiagnosed memories, and weaponized therapy.

We are watching an entire generation of mothers be rewritten.

But we will not be erased.

We are still here.

Still grieving.

Still sacred.

Still rising.

Let this post be a gentle wake-up call — a crack in the illusion.

If you are one of these mothers, you are not alone. You are not crazy. You are not toxic.

You are part of a generation of women waking up to a system that betrayed them — and still choosing to hold peace in their hearts.

Read this piece. Share it with someone who needs to know they’re not alone.

Let’s name the wound, and begin the reckoning.

From Sacred Resiliance