There are days when the silence feels louder than change.

There are days when the silence feels louder than change.

Not the silence of peace, but the kind that echoes with the absence of voices once etched into the rhythm of our lives.

Some of us were called to nurture long before we became parents—offering safety, presence, and a steady heart to those around us.

For many of us, devotion to family has been our life’s compass.

Not because it was perfect, but because love asked us to show up—again and again.

We built lives around togetherness.

Around movement and meaning.

There were no screens pulling us away from one another—

only open space to dance, to rollerblade through seasons, to bike through neighborhoods and trails,

to learn about health, connection, nature, and one another.

Daily life wasn’t something we rushed through—it was where we grew.

It was where we created lasting memories that lived in the simple things:

shared meals, big laughter, tearful lessons, and quiet prayers.

We’ve loved with everything we had—through joy, through change, and through the ache of evolving relationships.

Some of us walk with the sacred presence of a child whose physical form no longer walks beside us,

but who remains in every breath, every beam of light, every quiet knowing.

That kind of love doesn’t disappear—it transforms.

It lives in the wind, the water, the whisper of trees.

It shifts its shape but not its depth.

Love doesn’t always shield us from heartache.

And sometimes, those we’ve lifted and stood beside

no longer recognize the hands that helped them rise.

There are stories still held close to our hearts—

chapters not yet ready to be told.

Sacred truths remain tucked beneath the surface,

not out of fear, but out of wisdom.

Some changes are too tender to name aloud while still in motion.

But even in silence, there is strength.

Even when misunderstood, we choose to rise with integrity,

and stand for love, even when it is not returned.

There comes a point in our becoming when we realize—

this path is not about defending ourselves

or justifying our presence in someone else’s story.

It’s about remembering who we are

and staying aligned with what is true for us.

There may be times we are asked—silently or directly—

to explain our love, our choices, or our silence.

But growth doesn’t always ask for explanation.

It asks for honesty.

It asks for the courage to stay grounded

even when everything around us invites confusion.

Often, beneath what people show us

lives something deeper they may not yet know how to hold.

Some project their pain outward,

and in that, it becomes easy to forget what is ours

and what is not.

This is where discernment becomes a sacred act.

Where we learn to witness without absorbing.

To hold compassion without carrying the weight.

To be present without getting pulled into a storm that doesn’t belong to us.

We can allow others their experience

without interrupting it—

without taking it on as our own.

This is not detachment,

but respect.

Respect for our own path, and for theirs.

We are not here to carry what another soul is meant to walk through.

We are here to stay rooted in our own truth,

to rise in integrity,

and to trust that understanding unfolds in its own time.

To those who have been silenced,

erased, misunderstood—

You are not alone.

Your path is valid,

and your heart is still whole, even when it feels fractured.

You do not need permission to evolve.

You do not need recognition to be worthy.

And you never needed validation to keep loving from afar.

There is a space where transformation and tenderness coexist,

where the ache deepens our wisdom,

and where even in absence of understanding,

we choose growth.

Let others twist their stories.

Let them believe what they need to.

We—just keep walking in truth.

One day, the light that tried to be smothered

will burn so clearly through us,

no one will be able to deny that we endured

with grace,

with love,

and with a strength that can only be born through sacred change.

🌿 A final whisper…

We do not rise because it is easy.

We rise because love teaches us to keep standing—

even when no one is watching.

Even when we are forgotten.

Even when life shifts its form.

We rise because our story is not over.

And our light—

is still ours to carry.

~Kerri-Elizabeth~