The Words We Don’t Mean to Teach

She tried on my heels this morning, and I smiled — but something inside me ached. Because I realized she isn’t just watching what I say. She’s watching how I see myself.

We can spend years trying to protect our children from the wounds we carry, but they still learn from what we don’t say — the sighs at the mirror, the hesitation before a photo, the quiet comparisons we think we’re hiding.

This essay is about what happens when we stop hiding and start healing out loud.