Not Just Going Through the Motions

Lately, I’ve been feeling like a robot.

Waking up, doing all the things,

checking off boxes,

giving the illusion of “holding it down”—

but emotionally, I’ve been on autopilot.

I’ve been trying to balance everything.

Motherhood. Healing. Business. Survival.

And somewhere along the way,

I’ve started to lose my connection with my daughter—my wild, beautiful, fierce little girl.

My first baby.

My best friend before her siblings came along.

Before the house got louder.

Before the dogs.

Before the to-do list swallowed my attention whole.

I’ve caught myself moving through passive aggression with her.

I know where it stems from—my own childhood, my mother, the sharpness I had to survive.

But it’s no excuse.

It’s an inheritance I refuse to pass on.

When she tells me,

“Mommy, I get sad when you yell,”

it guts me.

I shrink inside like my inner child is screaming,

“Please don’t make her feel how we felt.”

And still, there are days I fumble.

Days I give her a shitty day trying to build us a better life.

And it doesn’t feel worth it.

I don’t want her to lose her spark.

Her curiosity.

Her boldness to ask a million questions.

I don’t want her to start dimming herself just to stay on my good side.

She deserves better than a mom who’s too tired to be present.

So I’m slowing down.

Catching myself.

Rebuilding—day by day.

It’s not perfect.

I still fall short.

But I’m not giving up on us.

To the parents out there trying to unlearn,

to re-parent yourselves while parenting your babies—

How do you stay grounded when the guilt creeps in?

How do you rebuild when you’ve hurt someone you love the most with your exhaustion?

How do you keep their spark alive while reigniting your own?

I’m listening.

I’m growing.

And I’m showing up again tomorrow.

Even when it’s hard.

Even when I’m tired.

Even when I feel like I’ve failed.

Because love, when it’s real, doesn’t run—it returns.