I am strong because I must be. Because I was meant to be. Because of the tiny, chubby-knuckled hands that reach upward toward me. Because, as I trace the soft hills from their arms to their cheeks, I find their eyes, fixed upon mine. Their beautiful, deep blues that beg for acceptance, for guidance, for love. There, in those small, but somehow divine eyes, I find my purpose. All of the struggles, the upsets, the setbacks...they collapse there and wither away. There is power in motherhood. There is a quiet, hushed yet profound quake that calls for strength.
Yet, I am still so very weak. I'm convinced that I would fall to the ground and stay there if it wasn't for my children and my faith in God. But I feel such strength in my weakness. I've overcome so much in my 24 years of life and I've stayed afloat, head above water, through so many storms. When I became a Mother, my life erupted; every piece of me that was broken or scared vaporized as the room was energized and charged with love. Somehow, the girl who grew up hating herself for her "pig nose", for being the "fat kid", for not having perfectly neat, blonde hair, for having coarse hands, for all of the things that everyone else pointed out...searched earnestly in the soft, red faces of her newborn babies for traces of herself. Somehow, in those moments, and every moment since, those things that I despised, that I felt so looked-down-upon for became strengths. They became slivers of love for myself that built me up instead of crashing me down. Finally. Finally, I found my weak spots were hardening, becoming a profound and solid piece of myself as a whole. Because there they were: some of those same features etched into the faces of my boys...and how could I do anything but love those things?
Suddenly, motherhood created within me this whole other person. This stronger person I'd never known before. I am strong because I must be, because I was called to be, because the things I thought were once weaknesses have transformed into immeasurable strengths. On the days where the weight of the past and the weight of the present bear down upon me full-force, when I feel drained of every ounce of wisdom and patience within me, or when I feel the same sneaking distaste for my life or self, I trace the cheeks of my babies softly with my fingertips and see all of the weak spots in my heart melting away as they settle near me, their safe haven...their strong fortress.
Strength is immeasurable when it comes to the strength of our hearts and souls. If you have faced much torment and your surface feels callused, your strength is still not measured by how hardened your heart is or how cold you've become in the face of emotional uprising. You are not strong because you've become unfeeling, but strength can be found in how you break down those solid walls to allow your heart to soften and feel deeply. I am strong because I let my heart soften, allowing love to overflow in abundance for my sons and for myself. I chose to bring forth two boys that surely mended my brokenness by just merely existing and even though it's hard and the struggle to stay afloat is very, very real, I must endure many heart-breaking moments in the years to come because I've allowed pieces of myself into the world in the form of two sweet boys walking and talking and experiencing life eventually on their own...and my heart is left bared, raw and feeling.
...And this type of strength can move many mountains, I'm sure of it.
I'm wearing Dexter in a Sakura Bloom Simple Linen in 'Wheat'.
