What binds us is not biology, but bravery.

May is the month we pause to celebrate mothers. We see the signs everywhere—flower bouquets, sentimental commercials, heartfelt tributes filling our social feeds. And while that recognition is well-earned, I’ve been thinking lately about the courage that often goes unspoken. The kind that doesn’t fit neatly into a card or a holiday campaign.

The courage it takes to mother is undeniable. But so is the courage to walk a different road. The courage to navigate infertility, to choose a child-free life in a culture that assumes motherhood is the natural next step. The courage to become a stepmother or guardian. To grieve a child. To raise one alone.

 Beyond these paths, there’s another kind of courage that deserves its moment too—the courage to show up every day as a woman in a world that constantly asks more of us. We carry invisible loads. We make the hard calls. We are caretakers, boundary-setters, late-night worriers, quiet warriors. Whether we are mothers or not, we mother things into being—ideas, communities, movements, healing.

This May let’s make room for a fuller narrative. Let’s honor the vast, varied expressions of womanhood, and the everyday courage that lives at their core.

The Courage to Mother

No matter how it begins—by birth, adoption, marriage, or unexpected circumstance—motherhood calls forth a kind of courage that is impossible to fully anticipate. It’s not just the bold, life-defining moments, though there are many. It’s the thousand quiet choices a mother makes every day. To show up again after a sleepless night. To hold space for someone else’s pain while trying to manage her own. To carry the weight of both love and fear in equal measure.

There’s courage in allowing your heart to live outside your body, as the saying goes. But there’s also courage in letting go—trusting a child to make their own choices, even when those choices differ from what you hoped for them. Motherhood is a masterclass in surrender and steadfastness, often at the same time.

This courage doesn’t always look like a battlefield. Sometimes it looks like wiping tears you can't explain. Sometimes it’s found in the slow rhythm of laundry, in a whispered prayer, or in learning how to say, “I’m sorry,” even, or especially, to a child.

It also exists in those who mother without being called “Mom.” The aunt who shows up for every recital and game. The teacher who nurtures confidence. The foster mother who knows love might be temporary but gives it fully anyway. The grandmother who begins again when life requires it.

The truth is, to mother—however you define it—is to give of yourself in ways that reshape you. It is one of the bravest acts of becoming there is. 

"Being a mother is learning about strengths

you didn’t know you had,

and dealing with fears

you didn’t know existed."

~Linda Wooten

The Courage to Choose Another Path

There’s another quiet kind of bravery that often goes unseen: the courage to live a life that doesn’t follow the expected script. For many women, that means navigating a world where their worth is often linked—explicitly or implicitly—to motherhood. And yet, there are countless women who are not mothers, whether by choice, circumstance, or simply the unfolding of time, and who live with deep intention and great love.

It takes courage to choose yourself when others don’t understand your path. To deflect questions that are too personal and assumptions that are too narrow. To resist defining your womanhood through someone else’s lens.

These women are often mothering in different ways. They are mentors and creators, leaders and listeners. They mother ideas into motion. They nurture organizations, causes, and communities. They offer care that is no less significant simply because it doesn’t come with a title or a family tree.

There is also courage in grief—the kind that comes from hoping for a child and facing the pain of that dream going unfulfilled. This is a sacred kind of bravery, carried by many in silence. These women deserve to be seen and held, not pitied or explained away.

To not mother, in a world that says you should, is not a lack. It is not a void. It is simply another kind of fullness. One that calls for celebration, not justification. 

“The world needs strong women,

women who will lift and build others,

who will love and be loved...

who live bravely, both tender and fierce.”

~Amy Tenney

The Courage to Keep Showing Up

Not all courage is dramatic. More often, it’s quiet. Steady. Repetitive. It’s found in the woman who gets up again after life knocks her down—who tends to others while healing her own wounds, who keeps showing up even when the world doesn’t make it easy.

This kind of courage rarely makes headlines. But it’s the foundation of families, businesses, communities, and change. It’s in the woman who reinvents herself at 50. The one who returns to school in midlife. The one who leaves an unhealthy relationship or starts over in a new town. The one who simply gets through the day while carrying an invisible burden.

To keep showing up—authentically, imperfectly, and persistently—is no small thing. It means facing a culture that often asks women to be everything to everyone, and still finding space to be true to yourself. It means making peace with the gap between what is and what could be, while still holding hope.

This courage shows up in doctor’s offices and job interviews, in grocery store aisles and quiet mornings when no one else sees the effort it takes just to keep going. It lives in every “yes” said with trembling hands and every “no” said with growing strength.

It is the courage of aging honestly, of healing generational wounds, of daring to dream again after disappointment.

It is, perhaps, the most universal—and most undervalued—form of bravery there is. 

“Sometimes courage is the quiet voice

at the end of the day saying,

‘I will try again tomorrow.’”

~Mary Anne Radmacher

Honoring the Courage to Be

This May, as we celebrate mothers, let us also widen the circle. Let us honor the many ways women show up in the world with courage. The courage to give life, yes—but also the courage to create a life that is fully their own.

To mother a child is courageous. So is choosing not to. So is grieving what never was. So is beginning again—at any age, in any season. Womanhood is not one path; it’s a terrain with countless turns, each one requiring strength, grace, and a willingness to keep going.

What binds us is not biology, but bravery. The shared knowing that to be a woman is often to be asked to rise—and to rise again. Even when it hurts. Even when no one notices. Even when the world seems too heavy.

So this month, whether you are a mother, have a mother, miss a mother, or simply want to honor the women in your life—start here: with recognition. With celebration. With space for all the forms womanhood can take.

Because in the end, it’s not about what role you play. It’s about how you live it—with heart, with integrity, and above all, with courage.