On 22 December 1994, my life changed forever.
That was the day I became a mother for the first time.
I did not just give birth to my firstborn that day
I gave birth to a new version of myself.
Before that moment, life was about plans, expectations, and identities shaped by the world around me. After that moment, life became about responsibility, surrender, love, fear, courage, and growth all woven together into one lifelong journey called motherhood.
Motherhood has never been a straight line.
It has been ups and downs, strength and exhaustion, certainty and doubt. There were days filled with joy so deep it felt overwhelming, and days where I questioned myself quietly in the dark, wondering if I was doing enough, being enough, loving enough.
And yet I stayed.
I learned.
I evolved.
Motherhood taught me patience when I had none. It softened parts of me that were rigid and strengthened parts of me I never knew existed. It changed my perspective on time, priorities, relationships, and even pain. What once mattered deeply slowly lost its importance, and what truly mattered rose gently to the surface.
This journey demanded more than sacrifice it demanded presence.
Presence in moments of chaos.
Presence in moments of silence.
Presence even when I was tired, misunderstood, or unseen.
Looking back, I see that motherhood didn’t just shape my three beautiful and amazing girls,
it shaped my soul.
So yes, I believe I deserve to celebrate this day.
Not as a birthday.
Not as an achievement measured by perfection.
But as a milestone of transformation the day my heart expanded beyond itself, the day my life gained depth, meaning, and a new lens through which I would see the world forever.
Today, I honour the woman I was then, learning, adapting, loving for the first time in this role.
I honour the woman I became resilient, reflective, and still growing.
And I honour the journey itself, imperfect, demanding, beautiful, and sacred.
Motherhood did not make my life easier.
It made it truer.
And for that this day will always matter.
