The good Lord above truly blessed me—with an incredible husband I never have to second-guess. I know, without a doubt, that he loves me, and I’m so grateful for that kind of steady, unwavering love. And then there are my daughters… two beautiful girls that I couldn’t have picked better myself. They are my heart walking outside my body.
When I look at their sweet faces, I see their daddy. But when those big personalities come out—let’s be honest, when the sass and strong wills make their grand entrance—I’m told they’re just like me. Most days, I laugh it off. After all, they’re girls, and I know full well that I gave my own mom a run for her money. So maybe this is payback in the sweetest (and most exhausting) form.
But truthfully, there are moments I find myself quietly praying they aren’t just like me. Not in every way, at least. I want them to have my strength, my love fiercely, and my deep sense of loyalty. But the struggles I’ve carried, the mistakes I’ve made, the insecurities I’ve wrestled with—I hope they are spared from those.
I want them to inherit the good. I want them to walk confidently in who they are, unafraid to take up space in the world, and to know they are loved beyond measure. I hope they learn from me, but I also hope they grow into even better versions of everything I ever hoped to be.
They may look like their daddy, and they may act a little (or a lot) like me, but in the end, they are uniquely and wonderfully made. And I’m just so grateful I get to be their mama.
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