When I Look Back

Healing begins when we stop pretending we weren’t hurting.

Looking back, my family always noticed who I brought around. I never even took a breath, just moved from one to the next.

Why, though?

I’ve moved physically. But mentally, part of me is still in 1998, in Milwaukee. I haven’t known how to be anything else. In some ways, I’m still that girl.

There are names I don’t even remember now. And choices I made, some with my child nearby, that still sting to think about. I went to Planned Parenthood for the services they offered. And still, I don’t know how I made it through. I don’t know how I made it.

I’ve spent most of my life without emotional attachment. I wasn’t taught about emotions. You were either angry or not.

I don’t have memories of joy with my mother when I was young. We weren’t that kind of family. I used to say that as a preteen. And now, I have a grandchild that has said it too. That pattern breaks my heart.

But with my two youngest, I knew I didn’t want them to feel what I felt as a child. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing with my first. But when I had a second chance, raising them on my own, I did everything I could.

Roller skating. Ice skating. Farms. Zoos. Musicals. Theatres. Cars to see family. Trains to visit friends. Buses to Selma. Planes to see the world. Farmers markets. Tote bags. Stickers. Family meals. Board games. Church. Service.

Everything I wanted as a child, with a mama, I tried to give them.

Motherhood has been my greatest accomplishment. It’s how I gave back to the world that cradled me when I needed it most.

Now I try to talk with my grandchildren. This is the age when you need your mama. Preteen years. The in-between.

Our children grow up right in front of our eyes, and we’ll miss it if we’re not careful.

I want them to get back to having moments. Real ones. The kind you remember when everything else fades.

If this resonates with you, take a moment today to reflect on your own “why.”

Why you keep going. Why you give what you didn’t receive. Why healing matters, even when it’s hard.

And if there’s a child in your life, yours or someone else’s, find a small way to make a moment with them.

A laugh. A meal. A memory.

Because sometimes, it’s the quiet, intentional love that breaks the cycle.