I haven’t told you yet, but my Mother passed away in November 2022. It’s been a little more than two years, and I hadn’t quite worked up the courage, the stamina, to talk about it.
Grief is interesting that way, it has no real timeline. “They” say it does, but it doesn’t. Technically, there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They’re supposed to happen in that order, but again, they don’t—or they don’t necessarily.
I feel a kind of moral obligation to share this cold, hard reality, so you, too, don’t feel like a lunatic if you find yourself depressed on Tuesday and incessantly pissed on Wednesday. Nope. The good news is—you’re normal. And welcome! Join the rest of us as we go up, down, and all around on the grief choo-choo express.
Truth be told, I’ve also entered full throttle perimenopause—or at least I did at what seemed to be the exact moment my Mother passed away. Good times. So you’ll excuse me for not mincing my words about, well, anything, I suppose!
So, here we go—it’s been a really rough and, somehow, enlightening, (dare I say empowering) two-plus years. But let’s start with the rough part, because the empowerment piece is relatively new, and I’m honestly still trying to figure out how I’m different, perhaps, better.
Navigating Grief and Personal Growth
My Mom was diagnosed with stage four cancer in August of 2020, and I was sure she was going to beat it. I was sure because A. I am a hopeful person and B. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Her name is Denise and she was this relatable version of perpetually anxious but formidable at the same time. She was always wondering, “Am I going to be okay?” And yet, when a fight presented itself, she took it on like Rocky Balboa. Two-time heavyweight world champion Denise Dowling in the right-hand corner! (The crowd goes wild.) She had a big personality and a lot of chutzpa, which is why I was so sure she’d live. Until I wasn’t.
It was October 2022 when hospice became inevitable. The cancer had spread to her brain in a manner that rendered surgery futile and death inevitable. I lived with her for eight weeks. Two months of one excruciating decompensation after the other. It’s hard, so hard, to watch someone, let alone a parent once full of vigor, deteriorate in ways you know they feel ashamed of.
I was with my Mom until her last breath. I held her hand, administered morphine as directed, and spoke to her until she couldn’t speak anymore. It was an otherworldly, out-of-body experience driven by shock and disbelief. Afterward, I stumbled to the phone to call the necessary people. As family members arrived for their intimate farewells, I retreated to a snug corner of the couch, seeking reprieve.
One might expect that feelings of relief, completion, or the comfort of knowing she was “in a better place” would bring solace. Yet, the only sensation marking that moment was the onset of profound grief—palpable, physical, and overt.
When my husband called, I unleashed primal cries of both despair and desperation. It was as if a tsunami of suppressed pain shattered a dam of emotions, sending spider-web-like cracks through what I had thought were neatly curtailed fears.
I was shivering. Someone hurried for a hot cup of tea.
My hands were shaking. Someone held them tight.
My heart was doing somersaults in my chest. Someone said I should eat.
The floodgates had opened. Stripped of all wise words and sense of control, I sat and cried, waiting for the angst to subside. Except, it didn’t, and for the next six-eight months, I endured regular panic attacks.
I can get into all the details, and will, but not yet. For now, I just wanted to say hi, I’m here and it’s been really hard. And sometimes, on some days, I’m unclear of how I made it through—but I did.
And maybe, if you’re currently having a rough go at it, this letter is a reminder that you’re not alone and you, too, will make it through in ways that surprise and delight you later. And when “later” arrives, because it always does, we’ll collectively share a sigh of gratitude and relief—the kind that lets go of everything we didn’t know we were holding onto.
So How Does All of This Relate to Empowered Womanhood?
Empowerment isn’t just about “getting it all together” or slaying every challenge. For women, it’s about leaning into the hard stuff, too. It’s about feeling the grief, sitting with it, and allowing ourselves to be raw. That’s where the real power is. True empowerment comes when we stop pretending everything’s fine, when we allow ourselves to process, to feel, and to rise up from the rubble. So, yeah—honoring the tough times, embracing emotions, and showing up with compassion? That’s where the magic happens. Empowered womanhood isn’t about perfection, it’s about owning the full experience—all of it.
PS. I’ve been fairly antisocial—on social media. Does anyone else think it’s a sh*t ton of work that makes you more anxious about life than not? Oh, good. So I’m not alone. It’s also tough for someone like me, who is “supposed” to be doing it—you know, for business.
Anyway! I’ve popped back on to IG recently with the intention of only posting when I mean it, like, when it feels good not cause I have to. Goals! If you want to chat more, I’d love to hear from you over there—feel free to DM me. It’s the closest thing we have to texting, as I understand going back and forth via email is SO circa 2009.
If you follow me and then DM me with the message that you’re on my email list, I’ll follow you back and we can have a happy little exchange! Otherwise, I’m really trying to not follow people I don’t know or aren’t inspired by—which is a new intention as well. More goals!
She is the creator of The Motherhood Setup, a framework for understanding how the Motherhood Fantasy, Good Girl Conditioning, and Invisible Labor collide to leave so many Mothers overwhelmed. Her work asks what changes when we begin to make the invisible visible, Count the Work, and recognize Motherhood as both a joy and a job.
Explore Dr. Dowling's work on modern Motherhood
- Do You Need a Life Coach—or Just One Really Good Coaching Session? - Oct 5, 2026
- Decision Fatigue: Why Your Brain Feels So Overloaded - Sep 28, 2026
- Good Girl, Bad Mom: For Every Mom Who’s Ever Felt Imperfect - Sep 25, 2026