People flinch when I say how old my kids are, like I’ve got monsters at home. But my kids talk to me. That isn’t luck — it’s intention, born from studying my parents’ mistakes and my own. I made plenty of them when they were little. Their reactions were the mirror that showed me who I didn’t want to be — and where I could choose repair. ✨

Every Halloween, I think about my dad. He wasn’t around — by choice. I used to miss the idea of him more than the man himself. But healing means accepting it was his loss — because I’m a damn delight to have around.