We come from women who carried the weight of the world

with grace no one applauded

and grief no one named.

Women who held families together with cracked hands

and quiet prayers.

Who buried their dreams beneath duty,

and wore their silence with dignity.

They were soft in secret

and strong in ways that broke their backs.

They didn’t questioned.

They just embraced their life 

As a destiny.

Because that’s how life is.

They didn’t call it trauma.

They called it life.

They didn’t call it pain.

They called it being a good wife.

A good mother.

A good woman.

And so we learned to be good too.

To smile without feeling seen.

To give without being asked.

To survive on crumbs of love.

To ignore the voice that whispered: there must be more than this.

Their stories live in our bodies.

Their fears wrapped around our nervous systems.

Their unspoken longing echoed in our own restlessness.

We carried what they couldn’t say.

We inherited what they weren’t allowed to feel.

But the lineage is shifting now.

Because one woman, maybe you,

woke up one day

and realized she could no longer carry both her healing

and their silence.

She didn’t want to pass down the wound,

but the wisdom.

She didn’t want to model sacrifice,

but wholeness. Truth.

She didn’t want her daughter to learn self-abandonment

as a form of love.

So she broke the pattern.

Not with blame,

but with presence.

Not with rage,

but with truth.

Not with rebellion,

but with remembering.

We were taught to fly

with wings that shattered under pressure.

But we still flew.

Because one learned, you don’t forget.

So, she picked up the shattered wings

not to wear them again,

but to build something new.

A way of flying rooted in truth.

In softness.

In sovereignty.

In self-love.

And self-compassion.

We rise differently now.

Not despite the echo of glass wings,

but because of it.

May we honor the women who came before us,

those who flew with broken wings

and still made it home in their own way.

May we grieve what they could not say,

feel what they were not allowed to feel,

and speak what they never dared name.

May we carry forward not their pain,

but their prayers.

Not their silence,

but their songs.

May we be the ones who break the chain

with tenderness, not shame,

who choose presence over perfection,

truth over tradition,

wholeness over approval.

May our daughters never have to unlearn

what we were never taught.

And may every woman who carries the echo

of glass wings within her

remember this:

You were never meant to shatter.

You were meant to rise.

I see you, beautiful woman!

I honor your becoming!

With love,🤍

Aniela

www.MindfulTherapist.us

#empoweredwomen 

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