I didn’t know

 I didn’t know how many parts of me still needed healing until I became a mom.

It’s wild how a tiny human can reach places inside you that years of trying couldn’t touch.
How their little arms around your neck somehow mend wounds you thought were just part of who you’d always be.
How the way they say “I love you, Mama” without hesitation starts to chip away at all the walls you built to protect yourself.

Your child doesn’t care about your past, your scars, your failures, or the way you sometimes talk to yourself in the dark.
They just see you — their safe place, their soft landing, their whole world.

And somehow, through their eyes, you start to see that maybe you’re worthy of the kind of love that doesn’t ask you to be anything but exactly who you are.

Their love has a way of stitching up places in you that you didn’t even know were torn.
And that might be the most beautiful part of motherhood no one talks about.