remembered who I had been before Elon.
And to my surprise, that woman had never truly disappeared.
She had simply been buried beneath years of accommodation.
Sophie is four now.
She is funny.
Confident.
Determined.
She sees Elon according to their schedule.
I have never tried to make her dislike her father.
That relationship belongs to her.
She will understand him in her own time.
What I can control is what she sees when she looks at me.
She sees a mother who says no when she means no.
A mother who speaks.
A mother who takes up space.
And I can already see some of that in Sophie.
When another child takes something from her at the playground, she speaks up.
When she doesn’t want something, she says so clearly.
She doesn’t apologize for existing loudly.
That matters to me more than anything.
Sometimes I still think about that
