STILL BLOOMING, STILL SEEN

 There was a time when getting ready felt like an event — late-night talks turned into morning laughter, picking out an outfit felt fun, and a simple “You look beautiful” made me feel like a woman. I believed it because I felt it. But somewhere between sleepless nights, spit-up stains, toys on the floor, and the constant noise of motherhood, those words faded. Not because love disappeared, but because I stopped noticing myself.

 Now, my mornings are a rush. Brushing my daughter’s hair, tying her shoes, packing snacks, checking bags — by the time it’s my turn, I’m already running late. Hair in a messy bun, sweatshirt on, I tell myself it doesn’t matter. And sometimes it doesn’t — except that I barely notice myself anymore.

 Some days, I try. I do my hair, put on a touch of makeup, wear jeans that fit just right. For a moment, I feel like me again — the woman I used to be. But when no one notices, it stings. Not because I need validation, but because I want to be seen.

 Motherhood has a way of swallowing the woman we once were. And in that process, it’s easy for everyone — spouses, friends, even ourselves — to lose sight of her. Not out of neglect or lack of love, but because she hides behind exhaustion, practicality, and the everyday chaos of motherhood.

 When someone does see her — when they notice, compliment, or simply acknowledge her — it feels like the air shifts. It’s softer now, rarer, more meaningful. Because behind the hair and makeup, the outfit and the effort, there’s a tired woman quietly saying, “I’m still here.” And in that moment, we remember the woman we used to be — and the woman we still are.

 But here’s the truth, mama — no one else can be the only reminder. We can’t wait for someone to tell us we’re beautiful to believe it ourselves. We have to start seeing it — in the mirror, in our resilience, in the way we love and show up even when we’re tired.

 Beauty doesn’t vanish in motherhood — it just changes shape. It becomes quieter, deeper, stronger. So when someone sees us again, we smile. Not because we need the words, but because we finally see what they see. And that, my friend, is when the bloom truly begins.

From the Heart of Mommy in Bloom
For every mom who’s looked in the mirror and not recognized the woman staring back — I see you. For every mom who’s longed to hear “you’re beautiful” again, who’s felt invisible in the chaos of motherhood — you’re not alone. We all crave to be noticed, not for what we do, but for who we are. And sometimes, even when love is beside us, we feel unseen. That doesn’t make us ungrateful. It makes us human.

So when the words come — let them fill your heart. But remember: your beauty, your worth, your glow — they were never lost. They’ve just been waiting for you to see them again. Because being seen starts with seeing yourself.

Author: Nemesis N. Escobar-Cruz