That it happened. That it hurt. That it shifted me. That I get up every morning. That I picked myself up, dusted myself off and carried on. That I’m still here. The that is the anchor. It’s the truth that doesn’t need decorating or defending and when I finally accepted the that, I stopped drowning in the why because the why can be twisted, the how can be complicated, the when can feel unfair, the who can break your heart and the where can leave you lost but the that... that is neutral, that is undeniable, that is where the healing begins.
Mother healing doesn’t happen in one conversation or one hug. It’s a slow reweaving of trust and tenderness. It’s a choice... to honour what we got, to honour what was missing and to keep choosing love anyway. Now, as a mother myself, I know that the most powerful healing doesn’t come from being perfect, how boring. It comes from showing up, loving hard and learning to forgive ourselves along the way.