When Being Always There Becomes Being Taken for Granted

A mother is always there.

Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, quietly. She is there through the ordinary days, the difficult days, the arguments, the disappointments, the celebrations, the illnesses, the growing pains, and all the little moments in between.

Irrespective of how the children behave, what they say, or what they do, a mother often remains there.

And perhaps that is where a strange chemistry develops between a mother and her children.

A father, especially one who travels frequently or is around only on weekends, can sometimes become a different kind of presence. His time may feel more limited, more special, perhaps even more noticeable. The children may look forward to that time because it is not as constant.

But a mother?

She is simply there.

And sometimes, I wonder if that is why children can unknowingly take their mothers for granted.

I say this from my own lived experience.

There were times when I felt that my children assumed I would always be there. That no matter what happened, I would manage, adjust, forgive, understand, show up and keep going.

Perhaps they didn’t mean to hurt me.

Perhaps they were simply secure in the belief that their mother would never leave.

But there is a difference between feeling secure in someone’s love and becoming so accustomed to it that you stop noticing what it costs that person to keep giving.

As a mother, we don’t always talk about the exhaustion behind our availability.

We don’t talk about the sacrifices we quietly made.

We don’t always say, “I needed you too.”

And then, one day, something happens and we realise that perhaps we have been taken for granted.

That realisation hurts.

Not because we expect our children to repay us for being their mother. Motherhood is not an investment expecting returns.

But we do hope to be seen.

Seen not just as the mother who will always handle everything, but as a woman who has feelings, needs, vulnerabilities and a heart that can also become tired.

Maybe this is another lesson I am learning with age:

Being someone’s constant does not mean you should become invisible.

And perhaps our children need to grow into understanding that the person who was always there was not there because she didn’t have a life of her own.

She was there because she loved them.

Maybe one day they will understand that behind the mother who seemed endlessly strong was a woman who also needed to be held, heard, appreciated and cared for.

And until then, perhaps I need to remind myself that being taken for granted does not make my love less valuable.

It only means that sometimes, the people who have received the most of us don’t realise the magnitude of what we gave.

I can love my children deeply and still acknowledge that it hurt.

Both can be true.

Because a mother’s love may be unconditional.

But a mother’s heart is still human.