Woman, your worth is not measured by your suffering

 

💔 I need to kill a myth.

Your children don’t love you because you suffered.

Love and pity are not the same thing.

They love you because you are their mother - because you were there for them.

You played with them, listened to them, believed in them, and nurtured them.

They love you because your presence was warm, not because your pain was visible.

👉🏿 Somewhere along the way, we were sold a lie - that a woman’s suffering is the "seed" for her children’s appreciation.

That to be loved, a mother must labor endlessly, stretch herself thin, and lose herself in the process.

But listen: if you have to nearly die before your children can appreciate you, something is deeply wrong.

Children don’t crave your exhaustion; they crave your presence.

😀 They want laughter, not sighs.

😔 They want correction from love, not frustration.

😻 They want to sit and gist with you - not watch you bulldoze around the house, cleaning and cooking without end.

I remember when I was a child - Saturdays were sacred. The only full day we had our parents to ourselves.

But every week, without fail, uninvited visitors would show up at 8 a.m., and we would grumble:

“Don’t these people have houses of their own?”

We just wanted time with our parents. That was love for us. Presence. Attention.

And we were always happy when they would say, "Go and tell the visitor, that we are not disposed to see him/her". 🥳🥰

Woman, your worth is not measured by how much you suffer.

You don’t have to be an overworked, unavailable mother to be a good one. Some children even resent their mothers, because they were just too busy and occupied.

Your children may not remember how spotless the kitchen was; but they will remember your laughter, your warmth, and your peace.

That is love. ❤️

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A woman releases a magnetic positive energy in her home when she is happy, less busy, and unstressed.