The Emotional Blind Spots of Brand Social
A guest essay on why Mother’s and Father’s Day posts still miss the mark.
Today’s newsletter is a guest essay from Laura Madaio, Founder of Grief Hungry, an online space that offers grief support through recipe sharing. Laura is a Product Marketing Executive in Tech, writer, and grief, bereavement and mental health advocate. I gave her the keys to Link in Bio today to talk about how brands approach Mother’s and Father’s Day on social media. This essay contains discussions of death, infertility, and stillbirth.
Holidays, Hashtags, and the Heaviness Brands Don’t Post About
Social media strategy has evolved far beyond perfectly curated grids and brand-safe captions. Today’s top teams zig where others zag—taking bold, unexpected approaches to resonate more deeply with their audiences. So why, when it comes to Mother’s and Father’s Day, do so many brands still fall back on the same one-size fits all content? Despite a broader shift toward personalization and inclusivity, this outdated playbook persists. With both Mother’s and Father’s Day approaching, I think there’s real opportunity for more thoughtful, nuanced storytelling.
The moment marketing felt personal
I lost my Dad suddenly in late August 2018 when a crowbar went through his windshield. The sheer brutality of it is still hard to write down. His loss didn’t just upend my life; it rewired how I interacted with the world, especially in places where life is supposed to feel curated and controlled—like social media.
In the early days of grieving my Dad, I was easily triggered. Instagram growth strategies relied heavily on bots, with brands and businesses using automated ‘likes’ as a way to drive engagement. But those bots didn’t know the context. They didn’t know that ‘liking’ an old photo of my Dad wasn’t just an innocent interaction—it was a gut punch. It felt careless, impersonal, and transactional in a way that made me furious. I called these companies out, letting them know their thoughtless engagement tactics were not only missing the mark, but creating an aversion.
My first holiday season without my Dad came just a few months after his death. It was as awful and amiss as you could expect it to be (honestly, it still is). But, I was so consumed by the heaviness and freshness of grief that I barely registered how brands were acting online.
It wasn’t until Mother’s and Father’s Day that I started to feel truly alienated. These weren’t just another set of days to endure—the posts, stories, promotions and emails were everywhere, inescapable. I couldn’t blame friends and family for their naivety to grief and loss, but seeing it from brand accounts felt different: their messaging was clearly not meant for people like me anymore.
Superficial efforts or genuine commitment?
Acknowledgment of grief, loss, or nontraditional parental or familial relationships often comes across as performative on social—as if brands are checking a box more than being an actual part of a thoughtful strategy.
You’ve probably seen a version of this image by Mari Andrew circulating across brand pages on Mother’s Day:

They may mean well, but many brands have defaulted to a predictable, sweeping re-share versus leveraging their own existing creativity, boldness, and audience awareness.
Happiest Baby, the brand behind the SNOO bassinet, came under fire recently for using a similar blanketed approach on Instagram after their questionable handling of a campaign with former So You Think You Can Dance alum and influencer Brooklyn Larsen. According to Larsen’s family, she was sent a bassinet for her newborn after she agreed to tag the company in any content shared with it. In a heartbreaking turn of events, Larsen experienced a stillbirth, and as a result, Happiest Baby “demanded” she return the bassinet following the infant's death.
The company added salt to the wound and enraged customers and followers when they posted this generic image on Pregnancy After Loss Awareness Month:
Email opt-outs were a start, but social hasn’t caught up
After the height of the pandemic and a (small) shift in openness to normalizing discussions of grief and loss, I noticed major brands allowing customers to opt-out of Mother’s and Father’s Day emails. In response to widespread feedback, more and more followed suit.
“I appreciate it because it means I then don't receive the endless barrage of their Mother's Day marketing. By and large I'm not sad on a daily basis because my mother is dead, but fuck me there's something insidiously saddening about getting endless marketing emails reminding me to buy her something for Mother's Day,” said one Reddit user.
Now, this is not a question of whether social is smart enough to be sensitive. My TikTok and Instagram algorithms already know I’m fatherless and have IBS (two things that I’m certain are mutually inclusive). It’s not a call for social teams to use AI and analytics to exclude me from their audiences. It’s understanding that brands already create deeply personal content and hoping they stop treating these days like they’re untouchable.
Social is arguably the quickest, most personal channel. Grief is a complex yet inevitable universal experience. Instead of leveraging their direct, nuanced connection with their audience, brands are playing it too safe. Rather than sidestepping the conversation entirely, brands have the opportunity to acknowledge the complexity of emotions these days bring—just as they do with other personal and culturally relevant moments.
Some brands have started to evolve their approach. For instance, last year US floral delivery service Teleflora tackled the complexities of loss of identity to motherhood in its ‘MotHER’ campaign—a spot that resonated deeply, earning over 9 million views. On Father’s Day 2023, Dove Men+Care’s award winning “#CongratsItsADad” campaign spotlighted the vulnerability and joy of new fatherhood in a refreshingly human way, through user-generated portraits. These examples reflect a growing willingness to acknowledge the emotional nuances of these days, especially for audiences navigating nontraditional or complicated family dynamics.
But despite combing through the internet, I’ve struggled to find standout social campaigns that directly and meaningfully engage with grief. While campaigns and cause marketing around infertility (read the blog Mira Fertility put out in February to show steps they’ve taken to make Mother’s Day less painful) and chosen family (check out Michelob ULTRA’s #ULTRADAD campaign which celebrated father figures in all forms) is slowly becoming more visible, grief still seems to be the line brands are hesitant to cross on social media—even though the emotional payoff, when done well, is clearly there.
Why are these holidays still just sales triggers?
As a marketer and consumer, it’s not lost on me that countless B2C brands rely heavily on the success of these days to drive a significant portion of their revenue. But if I’m being honest, it’s starting to feel tired and lazy.
Why is it that floral delivery brands only push campaigns for new mothers, instead of widows? Why aren’t there more brands helping my sister and I honor our Dad on Father’s Day? Restaurants pushing Mother’s Day brunch specials only serve as painful reminders that my family is no longer traditional. These days have become so ingrained in our cultural and digital fabric that businesses and brands forget not everyone fits the mold.
Social isn’t just a place to sell, it’s where brands build relationships. Maybe I’m biased, but I believe the smartest ones will recognize that inclusivity isn’t about omission—it’s about thoughtful storytelling that meets people where they are.
What would thoughtful, inclusive social look like?
Like many things in life, grief is something you just don't get until it happens to you. I’ll be the first to admit that before losing my Dad, I was not considerate enough about how Mother’s and Father’s Day posts on social media might land for someone who is grieving—but brands no longer have the luxury of mindless ignorance.
A more thoughtful approach doesn’t mean abandoning these days altogether—it means recognizing that loss, estrangement, and chosen family are part of real life for many of us. The best brands already obsess over audience insights, jump on trends in seconds, and turn comment threads into campaigns. So why stop short here? There’s a clear opportunity to show up with intention instead of falling back on cliches. If we’re willing to take risks in almost every other area of social media, why not this one?
This was a guest essay from Laura Madaio, Founder of Grief Hungry, an online space that offers grief support through recipe sharing.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot - how do we put the soul back into the experience of being online, was it ever there? Was it ever innocent? Or were we just younger?
This was beautiful to read. Love the risk approach to the things that truly matter.