WINK x Mother’s Day

Becoming a mother is a choice (and it should stay that way) Don’t let anyone romanticize it into something soft or inevitable. It’s not. It’s blood and bone and will. It’s a wild, sacred decision to tether your heart to something you will one day have to let go.

Motherhood isn’t all lullabies and sun-drenched photos of grinning children. It’s a love that grows in the margins—at 2:07 a.m., kneeling on the bathroom floor, wiping vomit from a chin that called out for you and only you. It’s crying in your car because you don’t know who you are anymore, and then wiping your face and walking into work.

People talk about burning the candle at both ends like it’s poetry. But this isn’t a gentle flicker. This is a blowtorch. Gasoline. A slow-motion immolation of everything you thought you knew about balance.

And still—there’s joy. There’s wild, aching beauty. There’s the fierce pride of watching them become.

This is the hardest thing I’ve ever chosen.

To the mothers who came before me: thank you for carving the path with blistered feet.

To the ones coming next: we are here. Tired and trying, but here. And you’re not alone.

Love,

Maggie