Dignity. The knowledge that my worth does not depend on whether my children recognize it. I finish my coffee on the balcony while the sun lifts over the Atlantic, turning the waves gold for a few brief minutes.
I put the mug in the sink, grab my jacket, and head downstairs. Another day by the ocean. Another morning walk with women who know my name now, not because I gave birth to them, but because I showed up.
Life goes on. My life goes on. And for the first time in decades, that thought fills me with joy instead of grief.
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