She longs to be asked,
*“How are you really doing?”*
Not the polite, ing kind of question-
but the one that holds space for truth,
that waits patiently for her to unravel
without fear of judgment or interruption.
To be seen, truly seen-
not just appreciated for the endless things she does,
but recognized for the woman beneath the chaos,
the quiet battles she fights alone.
To hear, *“You’re doing an amazing job,”*
not because it’s easy to say,
but because it’s the truth she needs to hear
when her own heart doubts it most.
Just one hour-
one sacred hour to be untouched,
untouched by demands, by voices, by needs.
Silence wrapping around her like a gentle hug,
stillness offering a breath she didn’t know she needed.
No little hands climbing on her lap,
no urgent calls for attention,
just a moment to be herself.
Someone-anyone-emptying the dishwasher without a prompt,
without a question,
just stepping in and saying,
“I see you. Let me carry this for you.”
A day without decisions-
no menus to plan, no outfits to choose,
no mental checklist weighing heavy on her mind.
Because the constant choosing
is a quiet kind of exhaustion no one sees.
And oh, to finish her coffee-
while it’s still warm,
before the world pulls her away again,
before she’s forgotten in the rush.
This is the love she deserves.
Not just words, but space.
Not just thanks, but understanding.
To the mother who gives her all,
who loves without pause,
who holds the universe in her arms-
may this day remind you:
You are seen.
You are cherished.
You are enough.
Happy Mother’s Day.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
P.C: Instagram
Writing: Mine
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
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