To the mothers who choose themselves

Just for tonight, close your eyes.

The battle is over, and though you lie here cold and bleeding, your pulse hums beneath the heartache,

chest heaving with the promise of life left to be lived.

You've been here before, but this time is different.

This time, the years you spent clawing your way forward, inch after inch, remind you: you have the blueprint already,

the medicines to heal, the tools to rebuild.

It won't be easy to rip yourself from the carcass of the family you fought so hard to make whole.

But you can't resurrect something you were never meant to embody, and loving the idea of someone is only a noose around your throat that grows tighter each day you deny what you're made of.

If you can see nothing else now, see that you're made of courage,

a courage you've fought for and earned through every lonely night,

every fire you've danced through

every moment you've chosen to love yourself when the world tried to convince you, you're too broken to be seen.

In darkness and doubt, you persisted.

When the grief held you paralyzed beneath the bed sheets, you singlehandedly gathered yourself from the fear,

heaved presence into your lungs,

and met the call of the morning - to mother, to nurture, to live.

And I know you hoped you would never have to go back there.

But to return and choose yourself isn't failure, it's revolutionary.

You are sacrificing what is known for what you are worth, and in the process, teaching your children what they too deserve.

So, for now, close your eyes,

rub the promise of a new beginning like a balm across your chest

and exhale the grief that mirrors how deeply you choose to love.

Rest, and in the morning, inhale everything worth fighting for,

lift the noose from your shoulders,

and gently,

tenderly,

put one foot in front of the other until the emptiness becomes spaciousness to heal,

to dance,

to be everything you came here to be.

Not just the mother you wished you could have had,

but a woman who belongs wholly to herself,

wrapped in grit and grace

resilient and free.