Momma, how did you do it? How did you grow up?
Darling, I fumbled, I fell, I tripped, I stumbled, I took wrong turns, and my mistakes numbered more than a few.
I prayed. I cried. I yelled. No one knew. No one understood. Growing up is hard. It is a solitary business that one must do alone.
But even at its worst, even at the lowest points I want you to know I am there. I can’t do it for you. I can’t rush to the rescue. I won’t be your knight in shining armor because you have to learn to save yourself, but I will be steadfastly by your side when you need a break, a hug, an ear, and place that feels like home. Don’t get too comfortable though. I can’t be your everything or else you will turn into nothing. I can be your safe space. You must be your own saving grace.
Growing up is something you must do alone. I cannot be there for the whole ride, you must seek out who you were meant to be, but know I love all that you are.