My New Promises to Myself

 Today,

I promise myself this:

I will no longer bleed for those who do not bandage.

I will no longer shrink to fit spaces too small for my fire.

I will honor the bruises, the battle scars,

but I will not let them be my name.

For my daughters —

my heart outside my body —

I promise to keep fighting forward,

even when the night feels endless.

I promise to show them a mother

who did not bow to her brokenness,

but built ladders from it instead.

For my mind —

this battlefield, this garden —

I promise to nurture it,

to rest when needed,

to seek help without shame,

to choose healing again and again,

even on the days it feels like the hardest climb.

For my spirit —

the quiet ember within —

I promise gentleness.

I promise forgiveness.

I promise patience,

for the becoming is not swift,

but it is sure.

For my life —

the one fierce, beautiful life I get —

I promise to live.

Not just survive.

Not just exist.

But to laugh with my whole chest,

to cry when I must,

to dance like no one kept score,

to love like I’ve never been broken.

I promise to honor every shattered piece that got me here.

And I promise —

with steady hands and a stubborn heart —

to build something so breathtaking from the wreckage

that even the stars will pause to watch.

Today,

I choose me.

Today,

I promise:

I will not give up on the woman I am becoming.