SOMEWHERE BETWEEN STRONG AND TIRED

I sat down today with my iPad in front of me, notes open, the cursor blinking back at me… waiting.

Ready to write.

And nothing came out.

Not because there isn’t anything to say.
But because there is too much.

My last post was almost a month ) ago.

When I wrote it, I poured everything out of me. Every thought that had been sitting heavyinmy chest, every feeling I had been carrying quietly.

I thought maybe if I let it all spill onto the page, something inside of me would feel lighter.

And for a moment… it did. L

But the truth is, it was only temporary.

.I talk a lot about self-care.
About self-love.

I believe in those things.

But another truth has been sitting quietly with me lately…

When you didn’t grow up with it, when no one ever really showed you what loving yourself looks like… it can be hard to suddenly know how.

It can be even harder to make it stay.

I promised from the beginning that this space would be honest. Raw. Real.

So here it is.

I’ve healed from the past.
From relationships that took pieces of me I didn’t even realize I was losing at the time.

From manipulation. From hurt. From the quiet ways someone can slowly make you forget who you were before them.

In many ways, I found myself again after all of that.

But there’s still a question that lingers in the quiet parts of my mind.

How do you convince yourself that you deserve to love you?

Some days I feel close to the answer.

Some days I stand in front of the mirror and instead of tears, I catch myself smiling.

Those moments feel like tiny victories.

But other days…

The tears come back.

Some mornings I find just enough energy to paint my nails. To wash my hair. To brush it slowly like I’m reminding myself that I still exist.

Sometimes I even put on a pair of jeans.

Then I notice they’re loose.

They don’t fit the same anymore.

Which means I’ve lost weight.

Part of me feels proud of that.

But another part of me quietly wonders…

Did I lose it in a healthy way?

Or did life slowly take pieces of me again?

There are mornings I wake up and the only thing I want to do is cry.

Not the quiet kind either.

The kind that sits heavy in your chest. The kind that makes you want to scream just to release the pressure building inside.

Because the tight feeling in my chest lately… it’s real.

And it hurts.

I want to be good.

I want to be more than okay.

I want to be the kind of woman my girls look at one day and think,

My mom was strong.

I want to win against the thoughts inside my head that try to convince me otherwise.

I want that win so badly.

But if I’m being honest…

Sometimes I still feel a little lost.

I know asking for help doesn’t make us weak.

If anything, it makes us stronger.

But saying it out loud feels different than writing it here.

Writing feels safe.

Saying it out loud makes it real.

And sometimes I even feel selfish for feeling this way at all. Like maybe I shouldn’t. Like maybe I should just keep going, keep smiling, keep everything together.

But the truth is…

We all carry battles no one else can see.

And these are some of mine.

Last month was heavy in ways I didn’t expect.

Emotionally.
Physically.
Mentally.

All three of our girls got sick at the same time.

Then I got sick.

Four sick people under one roof.

Trying to take care of them while my own body was exhausted and aching was something I wasn’t prepared for.

The house still needed attention.
Laundry still piled up.
Meals still had to be made.
Little voices still called for “mom.”

And I showed up.

Because moms do.

Finally, we had one week where everyone started to feel okay again.

Then the snowstorm came.

My husband got sick while we were still recovering.

And sickness made its way through the house all over again.

So yes…

Things are a little messy right now.

The house isn’t perfect.
We’re behind on things.
Life feels scattered.

But maybe that’s part of the story too.

Because when you’re a mom, when a family depends on you…

it sometimes feels like you’re not allowed to fall apart.

Because if you fall…

everything else might too.

And carrying that kind of responsibility quietly on your shoulders…

is heavy.

It’s like life reminding you that you have to keep going because you’re the one helping keep everything moving.

And some days…

that feels like a lot.

But here I am.

Still standing.
Still trying.
Still showing up for the people who need me the most.

And maybe healing doesn’t always look like strength.

Maybe sometimes it looks like messy kitchens, tired eyes, and hearts that are still learning how to breathe through the weight of everything.

Maybe healing looks like showing up even when you feel lost.

Maybe it looks like crying in the quiet and still getting up when little voices call your name.

Maybe healing isn’t about having all the answers.

Maybe it’s simply about refusing to give up on yourself…
even on the days when loving yourself still feels unfamiliar.

And tonight, as I sit here with my thoughts scattered across this page, I realize something small but important.

The words did come.

Maybe slowly.
Maybe painfully.

But they came.

And maybe that means…

so will the rest of me.

And if you’re reading this while feeling a little lost too… just know you’re not the only one learning how to be strong and soft at the same time.

With Love,

Mommy-In-bloom <3