This lovely post is so kind and inspirational. If you don’t personally need it, you might know someone who does.
I can hear the anger in your voice – the edge to the words and the frustration from whence it comes. I recognize it and remember my own. I hear it as an echo from the past rising up out of the dark caverns of my own mothing journey.
So, Dear Heart, know that I, too, am familiar with the strain and pull that mothering can have on your wits, your sense, your being. I have walked that way before and I carry the wounds, still tender, but not as tender as theirs.
Those little ears, and eyes, and hearts so unprepared to understand my wrath. Eyes wide and fearful and timid. It broke me to see it and that only fed the angry parts, I acted out under the pain. But they were not equipped to comprehend that it was more me than them…
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