I bled to become her

They say confidence is worn.
Like makeup.
Like armor.
Like a costume stitched together to impress, distract, survive.

I don’t wear confidence.
I bled to become her.
To embody this version without apology.

Not just the blood of womb cycles and births,
but the quiet bleeding
the invisible shedding of selves
that no longer served the woman I was becoming.

I bled in silence when my voice was stolen
like many mothers who cry in silence to shield their children of the pain she never wanted them to feel.
I bled in the bathroom while holding in my screams.
I bled while smiling when I wanted to run.
I bled every time I handed over my power
just to be loved a little longer.
No more.

I bled to birth not just a child
but a mother.
A mirror.
A movement.

This body has weathered storms and sanctified ashes.
She has housed lifetimes, held lineages,
and loved even when it hurt to stay open.

Every curve, every scar, every stretch of skin
is a sacred scripture of my becoming.
This body is not an ornament.
She is the altar.
The offering.
The resurrection.

She is not perfect.
She is powerful.
She is not passive.
She is sovereign.

I no longer seek approval in eyes that cannot see me.
I no longer beg for softness in hands that only take.
I no longer betray myself to belong.

Because I belong to Her.
To the one who rose through fire,
who found gold in grief,
who became the mother she never had
While honoring the mother I was given in all her humanity as a worthy soul of love regardless of her imperfections.
This is radical acceptance of self through the eyes of God and how we learn to accept the mother we were gifted and the mother we carry forward within.

This is not a performance.
This is my permission.

A holy reclamation.
A cosmic revolution.
A fierce return to my own reflection.

To every woman reading this:
You are not too much.
You are finally returning to your rightful size.
Don’t shrink.

Love yourself like your daughter is watching.
Because she is.

And when she sees you
radiant, raw, real
she will remember the truth:

We bled to become her.
And she is worthy of everything.

This is my altar. If you’ve received medicine from my words, presence, or fire, you are invited to give in return.

https://venmo.com/u/WindofChangeWellness