I don’t write anymore.

At least not the way I used to.

School.

Trauma.

Grief.

Memories.

Regret.

Time.

Finding time to be creative hasn’t been easy.

Creativity is beautiful.

It’s raw.

It’s real.

I loved exploring it.

Finding things I hated and loved.

Finding ways to express myself without having to explain myself.

My emotions were there.

Left open to interpretation.

I didn’t have to worry about reactions.

Or judgment.

Or what came next.

Until I did.

Until I started worrying about sharing too much.

Or not sharing enough.

About misinterpretation.

About reaction instead of reflection.

A mirror.

One that shows the horror and the destruction.

One you can’t look away from.

That’s where my life always seems to shatter around me.

Because I’m a mirror.

And my children are mirrors.

People don’t want to see the ugly.

Avoidance is the only thing they know how to do.

So instead of looking long enough for the reflection to settle—

to accept it,

to adjust the angle,

to acknowledge the distortion—

they shatter it.

And once it’s shattered,

it becomes dangerous.

But we are not dangerous.

We are not dark clouds of despair or misery.

That’s just what we’ve been forced to live inside of.

Our love isn’t only for ourselves.

It’s meant to reach outward.

It’s meant to help the people we care about.

We reflect what’s there.

Don’t like it?

Then fix the problem.

And it’s not the mirror.

Is that too hard?

Too uncomfortable?

Too real?

So instead, you shatter us.

How does that feel?

Broken glass or not, every single piece still reflects what you refused to see.

You made us lethal.

And we can never be what we were before.

Still—we reflect.

Because perfection was never the goal.

And avoiding your own reflection won’t maintain the image,

or hide the truth,

or stop the light from hitting the cracks.

Broken glass creates some of the most remarkable pieces of art.

And no matter how—or where—we’re put back together,

we become more powerful,

more beautiful,

and still…

we reflect.

I hope my children never get tired of reflecting.

I hope they see their inescapable beauty.

Their love.

Their worth.

I hope they find peace in this world.

I hope they know the gift they carry doesn’t have to be shattered as much as their mother’s was.

My goal is to make sure the artwork created by all that smashing

has a safe place to exist.

My children are absolute legends.

They deserve the best.

I can’t give them that in the traditional sense.

But their lives will be built to showcase their remarkable abilities.

Not hidden away.

Not dulled down.

My passion for art.

My love for creating.

My desire to give back and help others shine—

that’s the mirror I’m giving my children.

Shattered by things I didn’t know.

By people who hurt me in the only ways they knew how.

My job is simple.

Raise good humans.

Give them a better life.

They deserve the grandest stage.

The highest praise.

And the opportunity to shine—to inspire—

will always be there.

I will make sure of it.

I will always be there.