UNBROKEN SOUL POETRY

Some days, it’s easy to stay calm. Other days, it feels like everything is testing your limits—from the smallest inconveniences to the big emotional waves that catch you off guard. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that patience isn’t just a trait—it’s a quiet kind of strength. One that shows up in how we respond, how we love, and how we grow through challenges. Especially as a mom, patience has taken on a deeper meaning for me. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

Patience, to me, is the quiet strength of staying grounded when life tries to push your buttons. It’s the ability to pause, to breathe, and to choose how you respond—even when everything inside you wants to react.

Every single day, our patience is tested. Sometimes it’s in small, subtle ways—waiting in line, dealing with traffic, or sitting through interruptions we’ve come to expect. Over time, we build tolerance for these moments, and they become part of our rhythm.

But then there are those days that stretch us thin. The ones that feel heavy, where emotions run high, and nothing seems to go as planned. These are the moments that truly test us. That ask us: How deep does your patience run today?

And I’ll be honest—not everyone is equipped for that. I know people who carry very little patience, and they tend to live with more stress, more frustration. But I believe that the more patience we nurture, the lighter life feels. Because when you stop letting things you can’t control dictate your mood, you reclaim your peace. You gain emotional freedom.

To me, patience and self-control go hand in hand. The more I tune in to what I’m feeling in the moment, the more space I create to pause before reacting. And it’s in that pause where patience lives—where you get to decide how you want to show up.

Then there’s motherhood.

Patience takes on a whole new meaning when you’re raising a child. It doesn’t just stretch—it evolves. Because now, I’m not just holding space for myself, I’m holding it for someone else who’s still learning how to navigate emotions, energy, and the world around her.

There are days when my daughter is extra difficult, when nothing I say seems to land, and my buttons are being pushed from every direction. And while those moments are exhausting, they’re also some of the most important. They’re opportunities—not just to teach her about patience, but to model it. To show her what calm looks like, what love looks like, even in chaos.

It’s not easy. There are days I fail. But I’ve also seen the growth. I’ve watched her take deep breaths, make different choices, and practice her own version of patience. And in those moments, I’m reminded why this matters so much.

Children aren’t naturally wired for patience. It’s something they learn. And I believe it’s one of the most powerful things we can teach them—not through lectures, but through the way we live.

Every moment that tests my patience becomes a seed I get to plant in her. A seed that, with time, grows into emotional strength, resilience, and self-awareness. Qualities that will carry her far in life.

So I keep practicing. I keep breathing. And I remind myself: patience isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence.
And every time I choose it, I come home to peace.