The girls are in their room
I didn’t declare myself mother to another daughter. I became her mother the moment I stopped tracking her as “other.”
I used to think self-expression came from declaration. From stand.
From choosing who I was going to be.
From language. From integrity. From saying it out loud, then living into it.
I led seminars in it.
I lived inside the frame.
Declare who you are.
Stand in that declaration.
Act from it, even when it’s hard.
And I did. For years.
I called it power.
I called it freedom.
I called it being my word.
And it worked; until it didn’t.
Because one day I stood in the hallway of our house.
And I said, without thinking:
