When you don’t have a close relationship with your mum, or any real relationship at all, it can leave a quiet ache that shows up in ways you don’t always expect. Maybe it’s sadness. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s just a strange mix of distance and longing. Whatever form it takes, not having that bond can shape how you see yourself, how you relate to other people, and how you navigate big emotional moments. It’s got nothing to do with blaming or fixing anyone. You’re simply learning how to carry what’s true for you without letting it define you. When that mother-child closeness just isn’t part of your story, here’s how to deal with it.
Let yourself grieve what you didn’t get.
There’s a particular kind of grief that comes from losing something that never fully existed. You might not have a dramatic story, but that absence of comfort, safety, or closeness still hurts. And that pain is valid, even if no one else sees it. Letting yourself acknowledge that grief is a big part of healing. You’re not being dramatic or ungrateful. You’re just being honest about the emotional space that feels unfilled. It’s okay to mourn the relationship you needed but didn’t have.
Don’t force closeness out of guilt.
It’s easy to feel pressure to play the role of the “good daughter” or “good son,” especially when friends gush about their mums or holidays come around. However, faking connection just to avoid guilt will only drain you further. You’re allowed to keep things distant if closeness feels unsafe or exhausting. Respect doesn’t require constant contact, and love doesn’t always mean access. Your well-being matters too.
Redefine what ‘mothering’ means.
If you didn’t get nurturing or emotional support from your actual mother, it doesn’t mean you don’t get to have that at all. Mothering can come from other places—a mentor, a friend, a therapist, even yourself. Look for people who show up with kindness, encouragement, and emotional presence. You can build your own version of what that care looks like, even if it doesn’t come from the person who gave birth to you.
Accept that your story might not change.
Holding onto hope that your mum will one day suddenly change can keep you emotionally stuck. Sometimes she won’t apologise, won’t understand, and won’t meet you where you need her to, and that’s brutal to accept. Of course, accepting it doesn’t mean giving up. It means giving yourself permission to move forward with a clearer view. You’re allowed to let go of the waiting and start living your life on your terms.
Create boundaries that protect your peace.
If conversations always end in conflict, or if seeing her triggers old wounds, you don’t have to keep showing up out of obligation. Boundaries aren’t cruel; they’re clarity in action. Decide what works for you. That might mean shorter visits, no phone calls, or even complete distance for a while. Your peace of mind is a valid reason to step back, no matter what other people say.
Stop comparing your relationship to other people’s.
Seeing someone post about their “best friend mum” or hearing your mates rave about Sunday roasts and heart-to-hearts can bring up a wave of jealousy, even if you don’t want it to. Comparison can make your own story feel worse than it is. Try to remind yourself that every relationship is more complicated than it looks. Your experience doesn’t make you broken; it just makes your path different. Focus on what brings you peace, not what makes you feel behind.
Take your emotional needs seriously.
If you grew up being emotionally dismissed or ignored, you might now struggle to even recognise what you need, let alone ask for it. That doesn’t mean those needs don’t matter. It just means you’re still learning how to name them. Start by checking in with yourself regularly. Do you need comfort? Reassurance? A sense of belonging? Once you start identifying those needs, you can begin finding healthier ways to meet them, even if it’s outside your family.
Watch for patterns in your other relationships.
Sometimes a distant or difficult relationship with your mum can show up in your friendships, your romantic life, or even at work. Maybe you struggle to trust women, or you people-please to avoid rejection, or you shut down emotionally before anyone gets too close. Spotting those patterns is powerful. You’re not blaming your past; you’re understanding it so you don’t keep repeating it. You’re allowed to break the cycle, even if you didn’t create it.
Don’t minimise the impact.
Just because you function well on the outside doesn’t mean your childhood didn’t affect you. A distant relationship with your mother can shape your self-worth, your stress response, and your emotional resilience in subtle but deep ways. You don’t have to pretend it didn’t matter just because you’re “used to it” now. Acknowledging the impact is the first step to changing how you carry it going forward.
Let yourself feel proud of how far you’ve come.
Growing up without emotional closeness, or even emotional safety, takes a toll. However, the fact that you’re still here, still trying to grow, still asking hard questions? That’s not nothing. That’s strength. You might not have had the support you needed, but you found ways to adapt. You created your own coping tools. That deserves to be seen and respected, especially by you.
Focus on building chosen family.
Family doesn’t have to be blood. Some of the most healing, life-changing relationships come from the people you choose. Friends, partners, colleagues, mentors—people who show up without expecting you to play a role. Investing in those connections can give you a sense of emotional home, even if your actual family feels distant. You’re not stuck in isolation just because you didn’t get closeness where you expected it.
Be honest about what contact actually feels like.
Just because you’re technically in touch doesn’t mean it’s helping. If every phone call leaves you feeling drained, anxious, or small, it might be time to rethink the level of contact you’re keeping. It’s okay to admit that talking to your mum doesn’t always feel good. You don’t owe her constant access to your emotional space if it costs you your sense of self every time.
Give yourself what she couldn’t.
If you wanted tenderness, give yourself grace. If you needed protection, give yourself boundaries. If you craved encouragement, learn to speak to yourself with more kindness. It’s not about replacing your mum; it’s about reparenting the parts of you that still feel stuck.
Every small act of self-care, every moment you choose to show up for yourself in a way she didn’t, is part of the healing. You’re allowed to build the kind of emotional life you didn’t grow up with, and you’re allowed to do it without guilt.
