What I Hope for My Children’s Future
March – Motherhood and Warriorhood
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March – Motherhood and Warriorhood ✽
March 10th Issue
Dear Future Me,
Are they okay?
That question lingers in my heart, whispering itself into the quiet moments of my days and the restless hours of my nights. Not just okay, but thriving—filled with joy, purpose, and the kind of peace that settles deep within their souls.
I hope they have found their voices, not echoes of mine but their own—strong, unwavering, and filled with the power of their truth. I hope they have discovered dreams that set their spirits on fire, passions that make life feel limitless. I hope they have learned from my strength but also from my softness, knowing that resilience and tenderness can exist in the same breath.
More than anything, I hope they understand their mother.
That I was never perfect, but I was present. That every sacrifice, every late-night worry, every battle I fought—whether against my own body or against a world that didn’t always understand—was done with them in mind. That on days when the weight of it all felt too heavy, their love was my anchor, my reason to push forward.
I hope they see that being a warrior was never just about enduring pain. It was about perseverance. It was about standing in the face of adversity and choosing to love, to hope, to believe in something greater. It was about never letting struggle define us, but instead, allowing it to sharpen us into something unbreakable.
I think back to my wedding day…
—a day I once feared my body might not allow me to see. Dressed in white, my heart carried the weight of every battle that led me there, yet in that moment, I felt victorious. My babies stood near, their eyes filled with wonder, soaking in a moment they may not have fully understood but felt deep in their bones. I remember gripping their hands, silently promising them that love could exist even in a world that had tried to break me. That joy was still ours to claim, even after all the pain. That no matter how many times life knocked me down, I would always rise—not just for me, but for them.
And I pray that within them, that same fire burns—that they, too, will rise above the storms, not because they have to, but because they can. Because they know their worth. Because they know their mother never gave up, and neither will they.
With endless love,
Me 💜
