There comes a moment in every mother’s life where the Earth shifts beneath her — quietly, cosmically. Not with fanfare, but with deep internal echoes. That moment… is when your child turns 18.
It is not just a birthday.
It is a portal.
It is the moment the soul you once carried inside your body begins to stand fully in their own light — not away from you, but alongside you.
And it can feel like birth… in reverse.
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For me, this rite of passage stirred old shadows.
I remembered the version of myself at that age —
young, lost, powerful, broken, alive.
Homeless, hopeful, and half-awake.
Now, watching my child approach the threshold I once crossed — I feel the ache, the awe, and the sacred fear of letting go.
But I’ve learned:
Letting go is not the same as disappearing.
Letting go is an offering. A trust-fall. A blessing.
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We mothers are portals ourselves.
We hold timelines.
We break cycles in silence.
We raise whole galaxies disguised as children.
And just as they must step into their becoming,
we must step into our own. Again.
We do not retire when our children grow.
We rebirth.
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So to every mother watching her child become:
Let yourself cry.
Let yourself rest.
Let yourself rise again.
You have done beautifully.
And your next chapter is calling.
With tenderness and truth,
Luna D.
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