I Want To Write Something That Matters

I want to write something big—

Something that makes you want to sing, or dance, or laugh, or sob.

Something that makes you feel anything.

Something that sticks with you.

That makes you think, “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

That’s what I love to read, and long to write.

But sometimes I hear this voice in my head saying,

Who are you to write anything like that?

You’re just a mom. Just a wife. Just… you.

You’re not someone with a big story.

Not someone who overcame a huge struggle or built a massive following.

You’re not someone people quote or study or remember after they’re gone.

And that voice gets loud sometimes.

But then another voice quietly whispers—

I am my daughters’ entire world, and my husband’s best friend and confidant.

And they are my world, too.

That matters.

I matter.

And so I write.

I write for me.

I write for them.

I write for all the moms who feel invisible.

I write for the women just now realizing they’re neurodivergent—like me—

and trying to figure out who they are underneath all the expectations.

I write for the people who feel small or unseen, because I want them to know they’re not alone.

They do matter.

Even if I can’t write it all right now, I can write this.

And maybe that’s enough for today.