Every time I try to talk, I worry I’ll say the wrong thing. I want to be close again, but I’m afraid that trying too hard will only make her pull away more.
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There are nights when I replay conversations in my head, wondering what I did wrong. Her quietness makes me question my parenting more than any argument ever did.
We sit in the same room, yet rarely talk the way we used to. I feel like there are things we both want to say but never do. The silence feels heavy, not empty.
I noticed my daughter stopped telling me about her day. Our conversations became short, and even simple questions seemed to irritate her. I couldn’t understand when the closeness quietly disappeared.
As painful as it feels, part of me senses this moment is asking for something more.
I kept wondering if this loneliness meant I was weak or ungrateful.
I’m always needed, yet no one seems to notice how I’m really doing.
I didn’t feel alone in the room — I felt alone inside, and I couldn’t explain why.
I learned that small, quiet moments on New Year’s Day stay with me longer than big plans.
On New Year’s Day, I found that self-kindness mattered more than self-improvement.
and then