02/26/2026
Keep going, my child.
I’m not in front of you.
I’m not pushing you.
I’m right behind you.
I see those little shoulders trying to carry big bravery.
I see how loud the world feels when you’re still so small.
When the hallway feels endless.
When the classroom feels overwhelming.
When everyone else looks confident and you don’t feel it yet.
Keep going.
When you glance back to check if I’m there,
I am.
When your chin quivers but you swallow the tears anyway,
I see that courage.
When you fall and look around to decide if it’s safe to cry,
It’s safe. With me, it’s always safe.
You don’t have to be first.
You don’t have to be fearless.
You don’t have to win the room.
You just have to try.
And if trying feels too big,
grab my hand.
If that still feels scary,
just squeeze my finger.
Feel that?
That’s security.
That’s covering.
That’s a love that doesn’t step away.
And one day, when you’re walking into rooms I can’t follow.
You’ll still look back.
And you’ll know.
I never stopped standing there.