Fighting for me. Fighting for them.

It came to me why I'm so tired.  Worn out.  I am fighting for me.  To live.  To survive.  But, beyond that, I am fighting for each of my kids.  To have a voice.  To know how loved he/she is.  To be able to speak truth.  To tell their stories.To be brave.  To not cave to the pressure to always have to please.  We ALWAYS had to please.  I am doing it.  A day...sometimes only a moment...at a time.  We are making it.
He doesn't have to do that.  He could, but he is only fighting for what he wants and needs.  Hmmm.  That's a telling sign.  Guess I should have known sooner.
blessings.