I could have changed the contrast to smooth my skin. I could have reduced the shadows to brighten my dark circles. I could have adjusted the color to hide the redness from crying.
But this is who I am and where I am.
This is a reminder to myself. I am not my circumstances, but I think there’s a special, sacred place for remembering the hard things that refine us and remind us where our strength comes from.
Depression tries to crush. Physical pain knocks the air from my lungs. Financial pressure suffocates. Isolation and loneliness descend like a heavy rolling fog.
Everyone’s version of hard looks different. Being honest about your hard doesn’t diminish mine – and likewise mine does not diminish yours.
To the single mothers and military moms, I bow to you. I was only at this thing for three days and it nearly broke me.
To my fellow moms with chronic illness, I see you.
To the mental illness warriors, I’m linking arms with you – some days to help you stand and others to hold myself up.
To the mothers bringing their sweet babies to chemo, my heart breaks for you. I am believing with you for healing.
To the moms with unspoken pain and hidden burdens, I hope you know that you are not alone. You are stronger than you think.
Hard is hard, friends. Honor the hard that you’re in.
The saying ‘it could always be worse’ is damaging and demeaning. Just because our world has seemingly bottomless pain does not mean that yours is not valid.
I see you in it.
Hard is hard and today you and I are conquering ours breath by breath.
Love you, mamas.
Written by Lily Fryer