A mother’s story of survival, healing, and the sacred art of letting go.

As a mother, there’s a quote I’ve clung to for years:
“There are two lasting bequests we can give our children.
One is roots. The other is wings.”
— Hodding Carter Jr.

I’ve thought about those words often, especially this week. My eldest child just moved across the ocean to live in Europe. He has no return date, and his life is now an adventure. The last two days have been filled with pride, excitement, and utter heartbreak. It feels as if he ripped my heart out of my chest and took it with him on that plane.

I have never experienced this depth of emotion. It hit me like a wave, and tears that couldn’t flow for decades have finally been unleashed. It’s the ache only a mother can understand. There is a strange paradox of wanting your child to soar, even as every part of you wants to keep them close.

But this isn’t just any story about a child leaving home. Raising a child in abuse is very different from raising a child in safety. You are not just parenting, you are surviving. You are trying to keep both of you alive.

In our case, we had to flee, disappear, and assume new identities, not once, but twice. Staying alive means staying out of the never ending hunt. There were years of fear, exhaustion, and the constant weight of looking over our shoulders. It wasn’t the childhood I wanted for my children, but it was the only way to keep them safe. Safe meant they were alive.

And yet, in spite of all of it, my son has become everything I hoped for and more. He is the best of me walking around in size 11 shoes — kind, curious, creative, and whole. Proof that healing can take root even in depleted soil. We didn’t just survive; we grew wings.

When you raise a child in trauma, you learn that love is only half the battle. Healing is the rest. Our children don’t just learn from our words, they absorb our energy. Their nervous systems regulate by watching ours. The most powerful gift you can ever give them isn’t perfection; it’s your own healing.

So to every mother still fighting to raise children while healing herself: keep going. I know how hard it is to hold their pain and your own at once. But your courage becomes their compass. Your resilience becomes their road map home. Trust that, in the end, your children will rise next to you.

Today, I share this hope with you because I am living this truth, and it is certainly something to celebrate.

Ella xx

Founder, Rebel Thriver