I Parent From Muscle Memory Some Days.

Some days I show up because my body knows how. Not because I feel regulated. Not because I feel whole. But because something in me remembers what it means to feed, soothe, respond.

I’ve parented through dissociation. Through panic. Through silence. I’ve made breakfast while feeling like I wasn’t real. I’ve kissed foreheads while wondering if I was failing them just by existing in this state.

There’s guilt in that. But there’s also grace. Because I’m still here. And they’re still loved. Even when I’m not fully present, I’m still trying. And that matters.