My aunt got married at twenty-one because everyone said it was “the right time.” She didn’t hate her husband. She didn’t love him either. She just learned how to live with him.
She woke up early every day to cook, clean, and take care of everyone before herself. When she was tired, they called her lazy. When she was quiet, they called her cold. When she cried, they said she was being dramatic. So she stopped crying.
Instead, she started saving small pieces of herself in quiet ways. She read books late at night when everyone was asleep. She took online classes on her phone. She kept a notebook hidden in her drawer where she wrote the life she wished she had.
Years later, she helped her daughter apply to college in another city. She filled out every form, made every call, and cheered louder than anyone when the acceptance letter came. At the celebration, people praised her for being “such a good mother.”
But I knew the truth. She didn’t just raise a daughter. She raised the version of herself she was never allowed to be.
The wildest part about POVERTY is how much time it steals. Waiting for buses. Calling assistance offices. Comparing grocery prices. Fighting insurance. Sitting at laundromats. Being poor is a second job nobody pays you for.
As a parent you shouldn't be telling your kids that you sacrificed your life for them, It’s hurtful and manipulative, and it’s not true. You chose to have your kids and nobody forced you to have them. Taking care of them is your responsibility.
My daughter knows I love her deeply, but I don't hesitate to discipline her when she crosses the line. Last night, after a serious talk-down, I sent her upstairs to her room.
Tell me why this little girl woke up this morning and one of the first things she asked was, “Dad, why didn't you come upstairs to pray and kiss me last night?”
We spent almost ten minutes talking about what happened the previous night, and the girl calmly told me she was wrong, but that I was wrong for not coming upstairs to pray and kiss her.
Once again, I got reminded that we shouldn't be so angry with the people we love that we stop showing them love and care.
After giving birth, a woman's internal wounds take six months to heal, 12 months for physical recovery, two years for hormonal balance, and up to five years to rediscover her identity. Relationships frequently fail during this time due to a lack of understanding. Be kind and patient with new mothers; they are facing more challenges than it appears.
La nuit dernière j’étais tellement à terre à cause de la douleur de mes règles que j’ai envoyé un mail au laboratoire qui commercialise le Antadys, et ils m’ont répondu mdrrrr