Mother's Day2026 Essay 3

Title： Walking at My Own Pace

Author： Mochiko

People say, “The grass is always greener on the other side.”

No matter how hard I looked, the grass on the other side really did look greener to me.

My friends seemed to be doing well in everything: marriage, parenting, even work. And I felt like I was the only one who could not do anything right.

“You have breast cancer.”

The moment the doctor said those words, that feeling became final.

“After everything I’ve worked so hard for, why does this have to happen to me again?”

I felt as if I were sinking alone to the bottom of a dark sea.

But at the same time, somewhere deep inside, there was a part of me that strangely understood.

I had always been tense. I had kept running without rest. Parenting, in particular, was never easy, and it drained my energy without mercy.

Every time my child had a tantrum, I was swallowed by a wave of strong emotions. Before I knew it, I had started throwing out words like this:

“Mommy is going to get sick and die soon!”

I think my mind and body had both reached their limit.

And then—oh, truly—the words became real.

I cried and cried, and the tears would not stop.

I regretted it so much.

At that time, what saved my heart was music.

Around the time I was told about my illness, I came across the song “Feelin’ Go(o)d” by Fujii Kaze.

"Whenever my heart gets too loud, I just listen to the silence. "Don't worry, it's gonna be okay," the 'you' inside me simply says."

The lyrics felt like a gentle voice telling me to listen to the quiet within me, and that everything would be okay.

Day after day, I lay alone in bed and listened to the song over and over, as if I were letting it soak into every part of my body.

Little by little, the tension inside me began to loosen.I felt my heart and body becoming lighter.

And then, one day, I thought:

Maybe this illness is a message from God.

I felt as if my own body was saying, “Live more like yourself.”

From then on, I began to turn my attention toward myself.

I started to breathe deeply.

To sleep well and rest my body.

To do yoga.

To eat what I wanted to eat.

To go where I wanted to go.

To watch the TV shows I was interested in, even if the housework was left a little unfinished.

No matter how small the thing was, I tried to follow the voice of my own heart and body.

The sense of satisfaction I felt from doing that was something I had never experienced before.

There was one more big thing I changed.

The words I spoke to myself inside.

Until then, my mind had been filled with voices pushing me forward, saying, “You have to try harder.”

I began to let go of those voices. Instead, I started giving myself the words I truly needed.

“You have worked so hard.”

“It’s okay to rest.”

“I’m sure you’ll be okay.”

I filled myself with words that gently wrapped around me.

As I slowly brought my heart, body, and mind back into balance, a small light began to shine at the center of me.

Because of that light, even during the difficult days of side effects, I was able to endure quietly, without falling into despair.

All my hair fell out, but my daughter would always stroke my smooth head and laugh, saying,

“Mommy, you’re so cute!”

“I like this Mommy too.”

She would say that, hug me, and smile at me with innocent joy. I cannot express how much her words encouraged me.

“Mommy is definitely going to get better!”

After one year of treatment, I made it through safely. My mind and body both became healthy again.

There were things I lost. But what I gained through my illness was far greater.

To listen closely to the voice of my own heart and body.

To accept myself as I am.

And to fill myself with what I need.

When I became able to live more like myself, I began to like myself.

I have relaxed my shoulders. I have become a little more selfish, in a good way.

And I really like this version of myself.

There will probably be days ahead when I feel lost or have to stop for a while.

Even so, with my daughter’s smile and the light that has begun to shine inside me, I know I will be able to start walking again.

So today, once again, I will walk at my own pace.

Call for Donations
Thank you for reading this essay to the end. This essay was written by a single mother Mochiko for Mother's Day2026. The non-profit organization The nonprofit organization Single Mothers Sisterhood supports the mental and physical health and empowerment of single mothers. Your generous donations will be carefully used to fund the operation of 'Self-Care Workshops for Single Mothers'. Donations are accepted on our donation page here.