There’s no one who loves you, or worries about you like your mother. ❤️ She knew what you needed before you had words. Knew which cry meant hunger and which one meant heartbreak. She knew when you were holding something in. She still does. She’s the one who remembers your childhood not from stories, but from living it beside you. She kept the world soft when it was hard, steady when it felt like it might fall apart. And sure, sometimes her honesty stings. She’ll tell you when your outfit’s ugly or your hair looks better the other way. But she means well. She always means well. Even now, when I call my mother, I feel something settle in me. Like I don’t have to hold it all together for a minute. I can just be, and she’ll know what to do. Your mother is right more than she’s wrong. Comforting more than she is chaotic. And grounded, so grounded, especially when you’re at your worst. Because she loves you. And she has seen every version of you. The tantrums. The heartbreaks. The ugly cries. She’s seen your genius and your joy, your fear and your failure. And she never looked away. So today I honor my mother. An eccentric artist, a writer, a born actress, a Renaissance woman full of color and contradiction. A woman who paints the world in bold strokes, but still finds wonder in the smallest things. Who can command a room with fire, then turn around and laugh like a little girl. She is magic. And somehow, she made growing up feel that way too. I celebrate her while she’s still here, because that kind of love is rare. And not a day goes by that I take it for granted. Happy Mother’s Day to the women who shaped us and to the daughters still lucky enough to be mothered. We are blessed 🙏🏻