Parent Yourself, First.

Before you hush another's cries,

hold your own trembling voice with grace.

Before you wipe small sticky hands,

wash your heart in a quiet place.

You are a garden, overgrown—

weeds of shame, and roots of gold.

Pull softly at what’s no longer true,

let your soul's bright green colour come through.

Tuck yourself into bed tonight,

with lullabies you never knew.

Wrap arms around your longing child,

say, “Darling, I believe in you.”

Forgive the days you rushed along,

too weary to play, too sad to speak.

Your breath is sacred. Take it slow.

You’re allowed to rest. To be. To seek.

Parent yourself like someone dear—

like the child you once were, still.

Feed your hope, comb out your fears,

and meet yourself with gentlest will.

Only when your well is full

can your love spill out and stay.

To teach a child to dance in light,

you must find your sunlit way.

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