Where It Begins
Being a woman has never been neutral. It has always been something to claim, to protect, to redefine. And then you become a mother.And that same complexity expands. You are no longer just yourself. But you don’t stop being yourself.
The Contradiction
My life is built around wellness, research, discipline, care.
A constant attention to the body, the skin, the way we feel and the way we show up.
And yet, we live in a world that constantly blurs the line between well-being and perfection.
Care and control. Freedom and expectation.
And I exist inside that space. I work in it.
I believe in it.
Her Gaze
And then there is my daughter. Raising a daughter means seeing yourself twice.
Through two different filters. Mine, and hers.
The signs of time are no longer just my own. They are not only wrinkles, changes, transformations.
They are her growing. Shifting, every day, in front of me.
And me, growing with her. So the question changes:
it’s no longer only what I choose for myself, but what I am making normal for her.
The Subtle Line
There is a line running through all of this.
Between choosing to take care of yourself and feeling the need to constantly improve.
Between living in your body and continuously trying to fix it.
It is a political line, before it is a personal one. And it is never completely still.
People said: “I would die for my children.”
I believe the opposite.
I believe we should live for them. To live fully.
To choose to nourish ourselves, to take time, to work, to be independent,
to like ourselves enough to also allow change.
To change what no longer feels aligned whether it’s a job, a direction, or something within us.
Not as a war against our image. But as a responsibility towards ourselves.
To care, to support, to evolve.
What I Choose
I don’t want to step back. I want to stay inside this complexity.
To keep taking care of myself, without losing the meaning behind it.
To let her see that the body is not something to fix, but something to listen to.
That being a woman is not about fitting into a model, but having the freedom to create your own.
Even when it’s imperfect. Even when it shifts. Even when it’s hard.
