Self-Care
Do You Know How To Mother Yourself? Lessons from the earth type
April 29, 2026
— CHRISTINE SPARACINO
On my quest to understand myself as an earth type, I read as many books on the Five Elements in Chinese medicine as I could justify purchasing and dove in headfirst, like any neurodivergent / information seeker / nerdy type would. Many books talked about the same dynamics, using similar language. What stood out to me was a line in The Five Element Solution by Jean Haner. “The best way to think of self-care here is as ‘re-mothering’ yourself, doing little kindnesses for yourself throughout each day, and making sure you needs are all met.”
The question that arose for me was quite simple - How do I mother myself? If I am good at mothering other people (which may be debatable), how do I extend this care to myself. And I wondered - do I even know HOW to mother myself?
REMOTHERING ONESELF
The task for the Earth type is to mother oneself as well as she mothers everyone else. But it begs another question - when you didn’t have a nurturing mother, how do you know what mothering you need?
It also feels a bit complex to answer these questions because I chose to not be a mother. I intentionally chose many years ago to not have children and to skip the on-ramp to motherhood. I made a conscious decision when I was very young to not enter motherhood.
When “mother” is a delicate word
The topic of mothers is a tricky one for me. I feel intense guilt when I describe my mother as un-nurturing. She was not all nurturing or all lacking; she was a mixture of both. She met some of the outward needs like helping me move or decorate an apartment but there were many needs of mine left unattended.
I grew up with a vision of motherhood that I wasn’t eager to replicate. My mother gave every bit of herself away, to our family, to the church, to extended family and she seems quite bankrupt today. She self-sacrificed like all “good” mothers are told to do and she didn’t leave much for herself. Inwardly, emotionally, I think she has suffered and continues suffering.
My mom was all business. Tasks, to do lists, accomplishments. She was supportive in her way, showing up to swim meets and awards ceremonies, but in emotional ways I felt I was on my own. She rarely hugged me and there was little physical affection. Instead she pushed me to go to school when I was sick and held high standards and expected I should be self-sufficient.
My mother “loves” from a distance and it often feels like neglect to my sensitive nervous system. She doesn’t keep in touch, and if there is communication between us, I or someone else is driving it. She is not the first person I reach out to for encouragement, support, and love. She says she loves me and I’m sure she does. I just don’t feel it.
CAN I BE MY OWN MOTHER?
So the idea of mothering myself is quite tricky. It prompts the question - Can I mother myself like I would have wanted?
What does it look like when the mother I’ve had is distant and withdrawn?
Years ago I was meeting with a male therapist and as he moved away, he referred me to a colleague (a female colleague) and I reluctantly scheduled with her. I didn’t want a female therapist (and I hadn’t really figured out consciously the reason at the time). I knew I had issues with my mother and the idea of another woman in my life was unappealing. What if she was just like my mother? What if she didn’t understand me? Judged me? Made it all about herself?
Ironically I am still with that therapist twenty-five years later. We now joke that we have grown up together. She ended up being a surrogate mother of sorts and I have learned about my needs through her care of me.
WHAT I'VE FIGURED OUT ABOUT MOTHERING MYSELF
So I return to the question - what does it look like to mother myself like I care for others? Here’s what I’ve figured out so far.
For me, mothering looks like:
What kind of mothering do you need? How do you mother yourself?
