There are wounds we cannot see –
but that live within us.
In the way we love.
In the way we long.
In the way we withdraw – or adapt.
The mother wound is not about blame.
It’s about tending to what was never met.
About daring to be with what still hurts – with care and presence.
For me, this has been part of both my personal journey and my professional work for more than two decades.
And one of the hardest truths to accept has been that the longing I felt came from something I never received.
That there was nothing wrong with me – but that I could take responsibility for passing something different on.
To myself. And to those who follow.
It’s not selfish to learn to hold ourselves – it’s self-respect.
It’s a love letter to life.
Inspired by women who walked this path before me –
and many more who, each in their own way, have left a mark on me.
Mothering comes in many forms.
Warmly,
Trine