Twenty Years of Us— An Ode to Sol

In 48 hours, my daughter turns 20.

No more “teen” attached to her name. Just a young woman, full-grown, wild-hearted, and walking into her own story. And me? I’m feeling everything. Pride, nostalgia, grief, relief… it’s all swirling like one big emotional smoothie.

Someone told me tonight, “You’re such a good mom. I strive to be like you.”

And whether I fully believe that or not, it stopped me in my tracks. Because I started replaying the last 20 years.

We’ve walked through fire. From homelessness, heartbreak, death, abuse, trauma, suicide attempts, and a thousand silent nights I thought I wouldn’t survive. But somehow, God carried us. We may be bruised, but we’re still here.

Still laughing.

Still growing.

Still healing.

Still showing up when it’s hard.

We’re learning to heal out loud because silence doesn’t save, truth does.

This season feels like both an ending and a beginning. She’s not my little girl anymore, but she’ll always be my “why.” And even if the road wasn’t perfect... it was ours.

Here’s to twenty years of us. To survival, to softness, to showing up when the world said we wouldn’t. And to the God who never stopped believing in what He planted.

We’re still here. Healing out loud, literally. 🩷