Reflections
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Choosing yourself doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it looks quiet. Unimpressive. Almost invisible to everyone else. It starts with noticing what drains you, and no longer dismissing it. With reclaiming small joys you once postponed. With allowing yourself to imagine a life that feels lighter…happier. Being intentional. This is where many hesitate. Because choosing yourself…
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“…if only people truly knew you.” I heard that sentence once, and it made me pause. Not upset. Not angry. Not defensive. Just… paused. I know I’m sweet and kind and all kinds of beautiful. I also know – if I’m being honest – that I have mean streaks. They’re not always visible. They’re not…
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Some mornings, I don’t want to sleep – I just want to stay in bed. Not from tiredness. From weight. But I get up anyway. Because motherhood doesn’t pause for feelings. Today, I dragged myself up, made breakfast, packed lunch bags, and for a moment I felt proud. Then the thought crept in: this beautiful…
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“Have you ever tried doing anything with a child?” I heard that line in church and tried really hard not to burst out laughing – because I have. Many times. Before having my own child and even more so after. And I can tell you for a fact: you need a whole lot of love…
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Love is beautiful. It’s a common saying, but it’s true. I find myself listening to Love by Kirk Franklin, smiling… chuckling even, just thinking about it. I’ve been loved. I know what it feels like – and it’s strange that I can’t quite put it into words. Love is friendship. Love is partnership. It’s that…
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A broken heart is a real thing. I think that’s what I felt – or maybe what I feel still. A few minutes ago, at least. I’m not sure why I felt that, because I was in a happy space. Isn’t a negative feeling usually tied to a negative occurrence? I was putting my little…
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I recall lying on a hospital bed in the year 2020, wires all around me. Blood transfusing on the left, saline on the right. A catheter in place. Heat pads everywhere. Helpless as a baby, with loved ones hovering close, trying – poorly – to hide their fears. I recall three acts. My mom resorted…
Becoming Mo 