A Path Called Me

Tag: family

  • Motherhood, for G.

    Before you came into my life, I believed my world was already whole. I didn’t even know how much I needed you for my soul’s evolution. I thought I was happy, living a good and comfortable life.

    Before I had you, I believed I didn’t want or need you. But when the miracle happened—when I discovered I was pregnant—I didn’t know what to feel. I was afraid, surprised, and certain this wasn’t part of the plan. But the moment I heard your heartbeat, I knew something magical was happening.

    As you were growing in my belly (and I was growing too 😊), I was filled with joy and happiness. Then, after 20 hours of labor, I saw you for the first time. At first, I saw you not with my eyes, but with my heart—with my soul. I couldn’t believe that you came from my body. My mind couldn’t comprehend it. I understood the biology and the science, but witnessing the birth of new life felt like pure magic.

    I think that the miracle of carrying a baby beneath your heart—and then holding that little human in your arms—is no longer treated as the miracle it truly is. But for me, it was. It was sacred. It was magic. And I knew you were a gift—one I never asked for, but one that changed my life, my perceptions, and who I am as a person.

    In those first moments, I didn’t fully understand this miracle of life. Then I looked at you again—this time with my mind—and I thought, She doesn’t look like me or her dad at all—did they give me the wrong baby? But of course, that wasn’t so. We were both exhausted, and you had just entered the world—it was perfectly normal.

    I remembered that when I first found out I was pregnant, I asked God only for you to be healthy, and maybe to have my lips and your dad’s eyes. When I saw you for the first time, you had neither. But within a few days, I noticed you had my lips. And for your dad’s eyes, I waited a little longer—but yes, you have them too.

    Becoming a mother changed everything. I used to think that when we plan to have babies, we can somehow prepare ourselves for motherhood. But it doesn’t work that way. You can’t truly prepare—you learn day by day what it means to be a mother. And just when I think I’ve figured it out, something new appears to teach me again.

    That’s not just motherhood—that’s life.

    Even though being a parent isn’t easy, the love for a child never changes. It’s unconditional. Every day, I do my best to be a good mother and a good example for you. Some days go well, some days not so much. But I do my best—because that’s what love does.

  • A Love Letter

    Dear Love,

    Where are you?

    I used to wonder that so often.
    Are you in my mother’s warm embrace?
    In the neighbor’s kind “Good morning”?
    Are you hidden in the soft light of a new day, or in the joyful smile of my daughter?


    Does the green grass carry you?

    Or perhaps you’re in the face of a stranger I passed in the park? 

    I searched for you everywhere.
    So many of us do—looking for love in people, in places, in fleeting moments.

    For me, life has always been about you.
    Because life without love? It felt like it lacked meaning.

    I searched for you in people first.
    And I did find you—within my family, my friends, and in the most beautiful form of all: the love I feel for my daughter.

    Then, I found you in places.
    In the lake where I grew up.
    In the city where I studied.
    In the place I now call home.

    And then, I began to find you in nature.

    In the rhythm of ocean waves.

    In the majesty of the mountains.

    In poppy-filled meadows.

    In the pear tree in my grandparents’ yard.

    I discovered you in the little things, too:
    In the taste of my mom’s brownies.

    In a squirrel’s darting across the park.

    And in countless other tiny, beautiful moments.

    But even though I saw you everywhere, something still felt incomplete.
    There was always a small ache. A sense that something essential was missing.

    Until one day, I looked into the mirror—into my own eyes—and finally saw what I’d been overlooking all along.

    You were there.
    You had been waiting.

    I had never thought to look for love within myself.
    Never paused to offer love to myself.

    And that changed everything.
    Because the most valuable love, the most healing, the most lasting—was the one I gave to me.

    So now I know:
    You are not just out there, scattered in the world.
    You are also right here, inside me.
    Always have been.
    Always will be.

    With all my heart,
    Me