What are you most proud of in your life?
I may not have kids of my own, but I mothered hearts that forgot what love feels like, and that is still something to be proud of. I am not bitter.. I am just better at protecting the kind of love that once bled too freely.
If you ask me what I am most proud of… It is not the fancy milestones or the so-called “success stories” people like to parade online. It is the way I kept showing up with a heart that refused to harden. I am proud that I still loved, even when love did not return the favour. That I still cared, even after care was mistaken for convenience.
I am proud that I tried, really tried, to be a good daughter, a present supportive sibling, and a soft-landing over protective aunt. I poured myself into people like prayer water, hoping I would leave them a little lighter than I found them. And even though GOD never gave me the title of “mom,” I carried the spirit of one. I mothered souls that were not mine, loved kids that did not come from me, and gave warmth to hearts that only borrowed it.
Did it hurt? Absolutely.
Did it drain me sometimes? .. Oh hell yeah,
Without question.
But would I change that part of me?
Nope.. Never..
Because even through the pain and the misuse, I proved something to myself, that nurturing does not need DNA, that love does not need validation, and that real motherhood is born from heart, not womb.
So what am I proud of?
That I did not let this cold world turn me cold.
That I am still soft, still sincere, still standing, just with stronger boundaries and a quieter soul.
