Not Lucky. Intentional. And Learning Out Loud.

Catching up with friends or meeting new people, I watch the flinch when I mention my kids’ ages — like I’m living with tiny terrors. At first, I’d play along. Then I caught myself thinking: actually… my kids are alright. They talk to me. They don’t grunt at questions or slam doors. They tell me things.

I don’t think that’s luck. I think it’s intention — the kind that comes from growing up and quietly promising myself I’d do it differently. I studied the exact moments I stopped telling my mum about my day. The disconnect. The belief that no matter what I said — where I’d been, money spent, grades, whatever — it wouldn’t be heard. So I stopped trying.

And I’ve made a ton of mistakes with my own kids. Of course I have. Their reactions to me — the silence, the stiffness, the “it’s fine” that wasn’t — were the mirror. They reminded me: this isn’t the mum I want to be. So I apologised. I adjusted. I tried again.

What we have now isn’t perfect, but it’s honest. They know I’m listening. They know I’ll repair. And I know we’re building something I didn’t have — trust that can hold the weight of real life. ❤️

circa 2014