The Wish I Didn't Know I Needed

Every year, the night before school starts, we have the same little tradition.

We hang out as a family, look up at the sky and try to find the first star.

And when we find it, we each make a wish for the school year ahead.

It's simple. Nothing elaborate.

But it's become one of those little family traditions I hope my daughter remembers long after she's grown up.

This year, though, something happened that I wasn't expecting.

My daughter looked at me and said:

“Mom, my wish is for you. I want you to find a job that you're truly passionate about.”

And honestly?

I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

Why did her words hit me so hard?

I think, ultimately, it made me question:

What does my daughter see when she looks at me?

We spend so much time thinking about what we're teaching our children.

Be kind.

Work hard.

Follow your dreams.

Don't give up.

Believe in yourself.

But what are they actually seeing us do?

Does she see me pursuing my dreams?

Does she see me making time for the things I'm passionate about?

Does she see me excited about my own life?

Or does she mostly see me taking care of everyone else?

If I'm being completely honest, there have been times when I've felt like a shadow in my own family.

Not because I don't love my life.

I do.

I love being a mom. I love my family. I love the life we've built.

But somewhere along the way, I think I got really good at putting myself last.

Taking care of everyone.

Being there for everyone.

Making sure everyone else was happy, supported, organized and okay.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I stopped asking myself a really important question:

What makes me happy?

Maybe my daughter wasn't telling me I need a different job.

Maybe she wasn't even talking about my career at all.

Maybe she was simply telling me:

“I want you to have something that makes you happy.”

Here's the thing kids notice more than we think they do.

They notice when we're tired.

They notice when we're distracted.

They notice when we're excited.

They notice when we're doing something that lights us up.

And maybe, without realizing it, my daughter was reminding me that she wants to see that version of me too.

The woman behind the mom.

The person behind the parent.

The dreams behind the responsibilities.

I want my daughter to grow up knowing that she can build a life she loves without losing herself in the process.

That being a mom doesn't mean putting every part of yourself on hold.

That it's okay to want more.

It's okay to change direction.

It's okay to start over.

It's okay to pursue something simply because it makes you feel alive.

And maybe the best way I can teach her that isn't by telling her.

Maybe it's by showing her.

So I've been thinking a lot about that little wish she made under the stars.

Maybe she thought she was wishing something for me.

But maybe, without knowing it, she gave me a wish of my own.

To find my way back to myself.

To make room for the things that light me up.

To stop waiting for the “right time.”

And to let my daughter see that her mom is still becoming someone too.

Maybe that's the wish I didn't know I needed.