Case Study

A Community That Understands: Motherless Daughters Australia (MDA)

- Ali Lutz, daughter of Maree

When I was 20, my mother died of ovarian cancer, just six short months after her diagnosis. Losing her so suddenly and at such a young age was disorienting and all-consuming. My father died when I was 8, leaving my mother and me inseparable. We were more than just mother and daughter; we were a close-knit pair, and she meant everything to me. Her death left me feeling completely alone, navigating a world that often expects grievers to simply ‘move on’ or to grieve quietly and efficiently.

After my mother’s death, I quickly realized how ill-prepared society is to support grieving people. Friends, colleagues, and even family, although well-meaning, often don’t know what to say or how to help. Some try to minimize my grief, perhaps hoping to make it less painful by insisting she is “in a better place” or that I’ll find comfort “with time.” I feel isolated not only by my loss but by how people around me respond—or don’t. Well-intentioned people encourage me to “focus on the positives” or “get back to normal,” failing to understand that my entire definition of “normal” has been shattered. The workplace presents similar struggles; I am expected to carry on with little support, as though grief is a temporary distraction rather than a fundamental shift in my life. This lack of understanding—the absence of acknowledgment and empathy from friends, colleagues, and society—intensifies my grief, leaving me feeling profoundly unseen and misunderstood.

It was only when I found Motherless Daughters Australia (MDA) that I finally felt understood and no longer alone in my grief. MDA has created an invaluable space where I feel truly seen, surrounded by others who just “get it.” At MDA events—whether at ‘Meet and Grief’ dinners or the Pre-Mother’s Day High Tea—I’ve met incredible women who share the unique pain of mother loss. Sitting with them, I feel a profound bond. We share stories of our mothers, talk openly about our grief, and discuss the challenges of navigating life without them. These conversations are essential to healing. There’s an unspoken understanding among us, a collective strength, and a shared appreciation for how we each carry our mothers’ legacies forward.

MDA has taught me that grief doesn’t have to be a solitary burden. Through their support, I’ve learned there’s no “right” way to grieve, and I’m surrounded by women who validate that understanding. MDA’s support goes beyond empathy—it offers resources that empower us to carry our grief openly in a world that often dismisses it. The friendships I’ve made and the honest conversations we’ve shared have given me permission to be vulnerable and start healing. I’m learning that my grief doesn’t make me weak; it makes me resilient.

MDA has not only lifted the isolation that often accompanies grief but has also given me tools to cope and thrive. MDA has shown me practical ways to navigate milestones and difficult days. This support is essential, something society should embrace on a larger scale. For those of us who have lost our mothers, MDA is a lifeline—a compassionate community that helps us find strength within a life forever changed. The impact of MDA’s presence is profound, reminding us that while our mothers are gone, we are not alone and there are people who will hold space for our grief and honour our resilience.

- Ali Lutz, daughter of Maree.