teen mom, anxiety

My Brave Boy

š…š„ššš¬š”š›šššœš¤ š­šØ šš š­š¢š¦šž š°š”šžš§ š²šØš®š« š¬š”šØšžš¬ š”ššš š•šžš„šœš«šØ ššš§š š²šØš® š§šžšžššžš š­š«ššš¢š§š¢š§š  š°š”šžšžš„š¬.

My dear boy,

You have grown so in these nine years but when I see you struggle, I remember this little man. Your impish smile remains even as you are more man than boy. This week, you pushed yourself, fighting against your anxiety and processing disorder and surmounted a huge hurdle. I could not have been more proud of you.

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. I love you.

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