I look at my daughter

 I look at my daughter and I see a chance to do it all differently.

All the silence I grew up with, I’m replacing it with open conversations.
All the shame I was taught to carry, I’m showing her how to let it go before it ever sticks.
All the times I was told to stay quiet, to not make a scene, to just be “nice” I’m teaching her that her voice matters and it deserves to be heard.

Because the cycle stops with me.

She won’t grow up thinking she has to earn love.
She won’t think her worth depends on how much she gives or how small she can make herself.
She won’t hide her feelings to make other people more comfortable.

She’ll know peace.
She’ll know rest.
She’ll know what it feels like to be respected and safe.

And most of all, she’ll know she’s enough exactly as she is.

I’m not raising her to go through what I went through.
I’m raising her to rise above it.

That’s how healing starts.
That’s how the curse breaks.

With her.
And with me choosing, every single day, to do it differently than it was ever done for me.