There’s something sacred about the questions that come up when a woman finally gets quiet enough to listen to her soul.

In the last 2 weeks as I held space for the women in our Healing the Mother Wound class, I realized this space is so much more than journaling prompts or unpacking generational patterns. It’s becoming a sacred unmasking.
A place where women finally lay down the weight of survival.

We saw the masks falling:
The mask of strength that says “I’m fine.”
The mask of silence that says “Don’t speak up.”
The mask of self-sacrifice that whispers “Take care of everyone else first.”

And underneath those masks, we witnessed the truth—raw, trembling, sacred truth.

One of the most powerful moments came when a woman messaged me privately and asked,
“What if I never get that apology?”

And shortly before that, another brave soul had voiced what she had been carrying in silence for years:
“Is it okay that I don’t want anything to do with her anymore? That I’ve gone no contact?”

The energy in such spaces shifts.
Not because there’s nothing to say.
But because every woman here knows—deep in her body—the weight of those words.

They’ve tried.
They’ve forgiven without ever hearing, “I’m sorry.”
They’ve extended love, patience, boundaries, and explanation.
And still… nothing changes.

Now i want to remind you!

“No matter how much light you offer, some people only know how to sit in the dark.”

And I feel something crack open.

🕯️ When Love Isn’t Enough

As daughters, many of us are taught whether explicitly or silently that it’s our job to keep the peace.
To fix what’s broken.
To love people through their pain.

But the truth I keep coming back to is this:

You cannot love someone into their healing.

You cannot out-give their emptiness.
You cannot explain your pain in a way that makes them understand what they’re not willing to face.
And you cannot keep showing up for someone who chooses denial, dysfunction, or darkness and call that love.

For many of us, this feels like betrayal.
We were taught that family is sacred. That mothers are untouchable.
So when we name the harm, draw boundaries, or create distance we wrestle with guilt, grief, and shame.

But here’s what I gently remind the women in this space:

Boundaries are not betrayal.
Distance is not dishonor.
And walking away can be the most loving, courageous thing you ever do—for yourself.

💔 When the Apology Never Comes

It’s human to crave closure. To want someone especially your mother to say:
“I see how I hurt you. I understand now.”

But some apologies never come.
And that absence can leave a hole that feels unfillable.

Even so, this truth holds:

You don’t need an apology to heal.
You don’t need anyone to “get it” for your healing to be real.

Validation doesn’t have to come from the one who caused the wound.
It can come from you.
From your own knowing.
From your courage to name what was never named.
From the way your body exhales when you finally stop pretending.

In this space, I’m watching women reclaim their voice.
They’re writing the letters they never thought they’d write.
They’re grieving the mother they didn’t have and making peace with what can’t be changed.

And they’re realizing something powerful:

Some people will never meet you in the light.
And that’s not your fault.

🧡 The Truth About Going No Contact

There’s a lie many women silently battle:
That choosing no contact makes you selfish, cold, or heartless.

But what if going no contact isn’t about punishment?
What if it’s about preservation?
What if it’s about finally protecting the one thing you’ve fought so hard to reclaim your peace?

When someone repeatedly chooses to harm, dismiss, or manipulate you…
you are allowed to choose yourself.
You are allowed to choose distance.
You are allowed to choose freedom.

You can love someone deeply and still walk away.
Love should never cost you your voice, your sanity, or your sense of safety.

So if you’ve gone no contact—or you’re considering it—please know:
You are not wrong.
You are not heartless.
You are healing.

And healing sometimes looks like letting go.

🌱 Writing a New Legacy

I look at the women in this space right now and I see legacy shifters.
I see women who carried generations of silence, rage, abandonment, and shame and who are choosing, in real time, to put it down.

You’re not here to repeat what you inherited.
You’re here to rebuild.
To rewrite.
To create a new story that begins with truth, and ends with freedom.

That fear “What if I always carry this pain?”
is real.
But it doesn’t get the final word.

Because pain that is seen, named, and honored in community…
becomes purpose.
It becomes a doorway.
It becomes light.

💬 So, What Now?

She may never apologize.
She may still sit in the dark.
She may never become the mother you needed.

But that’s no longer your story to carry.

You get to rise.
You get to reclaim.
You get to walk away without guilt.
You get to choose your light even if she never chooses hers.

And sis,
That is more than enough.

You are the light now.
You are healing.
You are whole.

Lydia.