That morning taught me that strength is often misunderstood. It isn’t loud. It isn’t demanding. It isn’t about dominance or control.
Sometimes, strength looks like carrying groceries up the stairs when your body is already carrying a life.
And sometimes, it looks like an older man showing up early in the morning to say, “I see you. You matter.”
For the first time in months, I placed a hand on my belly and felt something close to peace.
Because someone had finally acknowledged the weight I’d been carrying.
And that changed everything.
