Just yesterday she asked to braid her hair and wore my sweaters.
And today she paints her lips, argues with me about life and already buys dresses for herself.
It’s as if there is another woman next to her. Young, brave, a little stubborn. And so… mine.

I noticed that now we are in a very delicate state:

she is no longer a child, and I am not yet a “friend”.
And I am learning not to control. Not to give advice. Not to criticize.
And just… to be there. And wait for her to come herself – for a conversation, for warmth, for support ☕💬

It is difficult. Because I am used to “knowing better”. But I'm changing too.
It's important for me not only to teach her how to live, but also not to lose our connection.

Maybe this sounds familiar to you?..
When a child grows up, you're kind of learning to be a mother again. But in a new way 🫶

And what about your daughter or son at this age? Are you also looking for a new love language?