When do we know it’s over? When we talk more about the past than the present—and no longer about the future. When the nostalgia of who we used to be together feels stronger than who we are now.

A slightly overwhelmed aunt, taking care of her two treasures—especially the older one, who sleeps with Auntie, does everything with Auntie… which means Auntie no longer gets anything done. I have such deep admiration for mothers and fathers (the ones who really do the job!). I see it clearly—even when the kids nap, I have so many things to catch up on that I’m no longer efficient.

What part of me have I abandoned in order to survive? There comes a moment in every soul’s journey when we realize that survival has a cost. It’s not always measured in time or money, sometimes it’s paid in pieces of ourselves. The parts we’ve silenced, suppressed, or tucked away just to keep going.

My mother had me at 24, and unfortunately she struggled with postpartum depression—something that, at the time, was rarely talked about and often suffered in silence. She believes that this is where my emotional sensitivity comes from. Growing up, my mother was also in denial about my father.

Well… I do have daddy issues! LOL. I’ve healed a lot around them, but they’re still part of my story—and I’m choosing to take the best from it. I could focus on everything I didn’t get: how he abandoned us, disowned us, treated us like a burden, never said I love you, blamed us for my mother leaving… The list could go on and on.

We don’t want to be vulnerable. We don’t want to open our hearts. We want the other person to do it first. We hesitate to be authentic if it means risking rejection. But vulnerability means saying, I trust you with my heart and emotions, so I choose to show up with my truth.