To My Daughters, the Light in My Storm

Serenity. Maleah. Winter.

I need you to know something. Not when you’re older. Not when you’re ready.

Right now. Because I feel it in my bones and I carry it in every breath I take.

You three are the greatest gift God ever gave me.

You are the reason I still wake up and fight.

You are the reason I breathe through the heartbreak and push through the exhaustion.

You are the reason I haven’t given up—even on days when giving up felt easier.

There are moments when I feel like I’m doing this all by myself.

Raising you. Loving you. Protecting you.

And it’s heavy, baby. Heavier than you’ll ever know.

But what keeps me going is the way you laugh.

The way you grow.

The way you remind me—without even trying—that everything I’m pouring out is not in vain.

Sometimes, I wish I could take you far away.

No phones. No noise. No expectations.

Just me and you—building our world in peace, in love, in safety.

There are people in my life who don’t understand what I’m fighting for.

There are moments when I feel unseen, unheard, misunderstood.

But never with you.

With you, I feel pure.

I’m not perfect. I get tired. I cry when no one’s looking.

I hold in my anger because I don’t want to bleed it onto you.

But I want you to know—it’s okay to feel. It’s okay to speak.

And it’s okay to protect your peace.

One day, you’ll grow into women.

And I pray you never forget how hard your mother fought to give you softness.

To give you strength.

To give you everything she never had.

You don’t owe me success.

You don’t owe me perfection. You don’t owe me anything.

You only owe yourself truth, peace, and joy.

But always remember this:

Your mama loved you through it all.

And she never stopped choosing you—not even once.

With all my soul,

Mommy