Lavitra been fighting her whole life, and some days it feel like the world just keep swinging on her. Bills stacking up, lights almost off, fridge looking empty, and she still get up every morning like a soldier, trying to make something out of nothing. She ain’t perfect, but she’s real. Somewhere along the way, the pain got heavy and the streets got loud, and she slipped into some things she never planned on—pills, smoke, whatever made the hurt quiet down for a minute. But when the high faded, the same problems were still there, just staring her in the face.
She got a man who say he love her, but love don’t feel like this. Too many broken promises, too many nights she cried herself to sleep while he was out doing him. She keep hoping he’ll change, keep telling herself it’ll get better, but deep down she know she deserve more than halfway love and halfway effort. Still, she stay, because starting over feel scary, and she already tired from fighting everything else.
But there’s one thing that keep her from giving up: her 15‑year‑old daughter. That girl is her heart walking around outside her body. Every time Lavitra look at her, she see the reason to keep pushing. She don’t want her baby to grow up thinking struggle is all there is, or that love is supposed to hurt. So even on the days she feel broken, she drag herself up, fix her daughter’s hair, push her to stay in school, tell her she can be more, do more, live better. She trying to break curses she never asked for.
Lavitra is tired, but she’s not done. She’s learning to put the drugs down, to put herself first, to let go of the love that only holds her back. She’s learning that being a good mother don’t mean losing herself, it mean finding the strength to change for the both of them. Her story ain’t clean, it ain’t pretty, but it’s real. And somewhere between the late‑night tears and early‑morning prayers, she’s slowly turning her pain into power—for her daughter, and for the woman she still believes she can be.
EtherealSample688
