The first thing that comes to mind when we hear the word mother is birth. The moment a life arrives, another changes forever.

But it can also be seen differently.

You probably know someone who has never had children and yet has an extraordinary maternal capacity — regardless of their gender, someone even capable of mothering a project, an idea, a community. Or people who became parents and, for reasons only they know, could not give what mothering asks. And people — more and more of them — who arrived at a point in their lives and decided, quietly and with great conviction, to mother themselves.

It is that last one we want to talk about today.

Caring for yourself does not announce itself. It does not look dramatic from the outside. It is choosing to be gentle with yourself when your instinct tells you to be hard. It is cheering yourself on — even when no one is watching, even when the results were not what you hoped. It is ending the day by reminding yourself: if something did not go the way I wanted, that is okay. Tomorrow I will have another chance.

It is comforting yourself after a hard day. It is being tender with yourself when someone has made you feel small. It is being compassionate and loving toward yourself — not as a last resort, but as a practice.

I say this from my own experience, and I include myself in that group of people who have been children, caregivers, nurturers of one kind or another — and who are learning, slowly, to also care for themselves. Because I believe that no matter your age, it is important to know yourself to know how to care for yourself. To not demand more than you can give. To offer yourself the maternal energy you may never have received. To understand, from a place of love, that you can rest without guilt. That the body we live in deserves the same care we would give to someone we love.

That, too, is mothering.

And if you are not there yet — today I invite you to choose yourself. To carve out moments that belong only to you. To get to know yourself. To inhabit yourself.

Today I want to send a warm embrace to every person who mothers — in any of its forms. To those who have had children and to those who have not. To those who care for others and to those who, tenderly, are learning to care for themselves from a place of unconditional love.

You are doing something important. Even when it is invisible. Even when it is just you, at the end of a long day, choosing to be kind to yourself one more time — not from selfishness, but from that deep place where you choose yourself to love and care for yourself the way a loving mother would. That tender, unwavering devotion you offer others? You deserve it too.

That counts.