Shattered

Really hugged her. Might have hung on for a moment too long. It was just so nice. No looking over my shoulder. No fear of getting caught. No one to yell at me about it later. For loving my kid. No “how could you?” Because. I'm allowed. This is my home. And hers. And nobody else's. I'm actually supposed to love her. Talk to her. Spend time with her. Worry about her. Protect her. Hug her. Love her. That's what a mother does.

I'm starting to see tiny glimmers of what life was like Before.