My mother is my queen—
between my Maker and me, she is the bridge,
the gentle space, the sanctuary on earth.

Her crown?
Love.
She wore it from the day I was conceived,
through every breath I have taken,
every heartache I have survived.
Layer upon layer, like a nesting gift box,
she crowned each child with the same devotion—
one gift, endlessly multiplied.

Her soul food?
Loyal love.
She fed her offspring more than bread:
healthy nutrition for the spirit,
a good mood for the journey.
Its conditions?
Unconditional.
In strength and in sorrow,
in triumph and trial,
she said:

Remember, you are of blessings untainted.
Expect not to reap from the world
what you did not sow.
But let the world show you how to grow.
Then go, child—go on and believe in you.
For when you do, that love will guide you through.

Yes, you will be tried.
You will be shaken.
But never be mistaken:
you are always you—
born of royalty, blessed through and through.
You are not to be diminished,
not to be messed with.

You may not see it coming when you fall,
but you were born to rise above it all.
Never a weight to be borne,
but grace in disguise.
So don’t run a race
that was never yours to run.

You were born to be a pleaser? No—
but say “please” and “thank you.”
Let that be the foundation of reverence,
the architecture of kindness.

And always remember this:
you are your mother’s child.
Not her burden—
her shield.
Not her worry—
her witness.
Not her reflection—
her continuation.

For every crown she wears
was shaped by loving you.
And every step you take
is ground she prayed you would stand on.

So wear her love like coronation silk.
It was woven before you arrived,
and it will outlast every storm.

Your Queen Mother.
Forever.
And so are you.