From the outside, people always saw that smile you tried to wear like armor. They thought you were good, thought you had it all handled. But inside, life was right up in your face, no breaks, no mercy. Bills, drama, heartbreak, all of it stacking up while you’re just trying to breathe. You learned early how to hide the pain behind a laugh, how to say “I’m fine” when your whole world felt like it was cracking. Then came your little girl ,That sweet baby girl gave you a reason to wake up even on the days you didn’t want to. You held her and promised her better, even when you weren’t sure how you were gonna make it happen. Don’t ever forget this: your past doesn’t cancel your love, and your mistakes don’t erase your growth. You turned your pain into power, your weakness into wisdom. Your little girl doesn’t need a perfect mom—she needs *you*, the one who fought her way back, the one who chose her over the addiction, the one who keeps trying no matter what. That’s strength. That’s beauty. That’s real But life don’t always play fair. Addiction slid in quiet, like a fake friend. At first it felt like an escape, a way to numb the hurt, to forget the weight on your shoulders. But slowly, it started taking pieces of you—your time, your peace, your trust in yourself. You went through it. The guilt, the shame, the nights you cried when nobody saw. People judged, whispered, wrote you off like you were done. But they didn’t know your heart. They didn’t see how much you loved that little girl how much you wanted to be better for her. Somewhere in all that darkness, you decided you were not gonna let this be the end of your story. You fought back—one day at a time, one choice at a time, even when it hurt, even when it felt impossible. Don’t ever forget this: your past doesn’t cancel your love, and your mistakes don’t erase your growth. You turned your pain into power, your weakness into wisdom. Your little girl doesn’t need a perfect mom—she needs *you ,And look at you now. You’re not perfect, but you’re present. You’re not running—you’re standing. Today, you’re a wonderful mother, doing the best you can with everything you’ve got. You show up for your little girl tired, scared, healing, but real. You pack her lunches, wipe her tears, cheer her on, and love her with a kind of love only someone who’s been through hell can give. You might still carry scars, but those scars are proof you didn’t give up. Don’t ever forget this: your past doesn’t cancel your love, and your mistakes don’t erase your growth. You turned your pain into power, your weakness into wisdom. Your little girl doesn’t need a perfect mom—she needs *you*, the one who fought her way back, the one who chose her over the addiction, the one who keeps trying no matter what. That’s strength. That’s beauty. That’s real. Keep your head up, Michele You’re not what you went through—you’re what you chose to become. And what you’ve become is a mother your little girl can be proud of.

A Mom You Are Michele