I have it.

The years ahead of me will hold struggles, pain, confusion, and hope. Today I am where I have prayed to be for several years: I am single and safe.

My kids are playing happily across the room with toy cars and dinosaurs. They don't know my pain or my weakness, or my fears of inadequacy and failure. They don't know that I struggle just to put food in their tummies and gas in our car. They don't know that my heart aches and that I cry when they can't see. That I'm desperately lonely and terrifyingly afraid of not being lonely.

They don't know that it’s such an effort to show them the love that I feel in my heart. That my mind and my spirit are exhausted and it takes every inch of motivation in my being to love them up like they deserve to be loved.

They don't know that the simple things carry me from day to day. That the sloppy, hot-dog-littered kisses fill the emptiness in my soul. That the carefree giggles rising like music from their souls solidify my hope. They don't know that I live to see the rise and fall of their chests in their sleep, to witness the temper tantrums over spilled milk and failed attempts to tie shoes...They don't know that without them and their exhausting need for my love and attention, I am nothing.

All they know is that whether it be love, a dry diaper, a toy that’s out of reach, a hot lunch, or a sloppy kiss, when they need it, I have it.