We made it from Donegal Ireland to see you last night in Manchester. You were so close ahhh hope you enjoy your Donegal jersey @kanebrown@KaneBrownFamily
It's hard to put into words what this moment feels like. A mixture of overwhelming love, gratitude, pride, and awe. Watching her arrive and seeing the strength and courage of her mother has been the most humbling experience of my life.
Welcome to the world, Saoirse. ❤️
I just came across you, You're and am in tears 😭
Sending prayers 🙏✌️ love hugs and kisses from Inishowen Co Donegal Ireland 🫶💜💜
You're so brave 🫶🫶💕💞💖💖💖😭😭💜💜💜
I got my dog when I was just 19 years old and a single mother of 1.
I kept my dog.
I kept my dog even though I moved into an apartment and had to pay a $500 pet fee.
I kept my dog when my boyfriend and I broke up and he kept the apartment even though my new place didn't allow dogs.
I kept my dog when I ultimately had to move back in with my parents and she also was not allowed there.
I kept my dog when I had my second child. I kept my dog when his father put all of us through hell and none of us had anywhere to go.
I kept my dog when I had a penny to my name and we all ate nothing but buttered noodles for dinner.
Ten years later I STILL have my dog because she is the very start of the huge family that we now have.
Even though she's getting slow, eating less and turning grey I STILL HAVE MY DOG. I'm tired of hearing and reading about posts that say "getting rid of them because they don't love my new puppy" or "I want a new dog".
Commitment is commitment.
Credit: Ashleigh Matthews
“I was fifty years old when my husband decided to “find himself.”
Not with me.
With another woman. Younger.
He said it seriously, as if he were announcing a spiritual awakening.
He needed freedom.
Purpose.
To finally “live for himself.”
I listened without screaming.
Not out of pride.
Out of exhaustion.
The exhaustion of someone who carried everyday life for years.
The silences. The “oops, I forgot.”
The exhaustion of being present… while the other was already elsewhere.
When he left, he asked me:
“And you—what will you do now?”
I answered calmly:
“Live.
What I never truly had time to do.”
I stayed.
Not empty.
Just free.
The next day I went to the hairdresser.
To the bank.
And then to the pastry shop to buy that dessert I always postponed for “another time.”
That evening I opened Facebook.
Not to look for someone.
Just to see if I still existed.
Not as “someone’s wife.”
But as myself.
That night I fell asleep in peace.
No promises.
No plans.
Just a heart that was finally breathing.
Because sometimes, true rebirth doesn’t begin with someone else.
It begins when a woman chooses herself.
And one thing is certain:
She no longer asks permission to live.
She no longer settles for crumbs.
She deserves the whole table.”
Credit: Monica Smith