A Love Letter to You
Hey Love,
You have time for a quick storytime? Ok. Cool.
I’m not sure why people say that there’s no use in crying over spilled milk, but a few weeks ago, I learned that that is a complete lie. And that it is a lesson on grace.
It was a Wednesday. I was running off of 4 hours of sleep and had a long day at work. So when I came home from picking Sweet Pea up from school, all I wanted to do was cook dinner, clean the kitchen, kiss my baby girl goodnight, and be in my bed by 8:15pm. But, as I’m learning more and more, life with a toddler just isn’t that cut and dry.
While I was cooking and moving through the house like a one-woman production crew, my daughter kept running into the kitchen with request after request after request.
“Mommy, I want something to eat.”
“Mommy, I want to watch Ms. Rachel.”
“Mommy, I need help!”
Her last request, “Mommy, I want milk, please,” is what sent me over the edge. Already running off pure fumes and agitated, I angrily gave her the milk and went back to finishing dinner. Only the minute I turned my back, I heard a loud “SPLAT” and turned around to see milk on the floor, on the stove, and on Sweet Pea’s clothes.
And that was when I lost it.
I snapped. I raised my voice. I barked orders. I reacted from a place of pure exhaustion and frustration, and not intention. And I made my daughter cry.
In that moment, watching her shrink as her screams became louder, made me realize that my reaction wasn’t about her at all. It was about me and my lack of rest, my lack of capacity, my lack of compassion, understanding, and care for myself.
After asking my lover to change her clothes (and yes, I yelled at him too), cleaning the milk up off the floor, and sitting with my anger, I whisked my daughter into my arms and wrapped her in a long, loving hug. And told her repeatedly how sorry I was, that I would do better, and that even Mommy makes mistakes. Because afterall, I’m still learning too.
That moment reminded me that grace belongs to mothers just as much as it belongs to our children.
We don’t suddenly become bad mothers just because we’ve had or are having a bad day. We’re not hard, just because we’re overwhelmed, overstimulated, overworked, and overtired. And we’re allowed to make mistakes, because it gives us room to repair, refocus, realign, and grow.
As we prepare to close out a year that may have stretched you too thin, or revealed parts of yourself you didn’t expect, or even forced you to hold so much that even small things felt overwhelmingly big, I want to remind you that you deserve rest. You deserve softness. You deserve to forgive yourself for the moments where you didn’t always get it right. And darling, you deserve to give yourself the same kind of grace that you freely give to everyone else.
Wherever you are in your life, I want you to know that, yes, you absolutely can cry over spilled milk. Not because it’s one more mess that requires cleaning up, but because of everything else you were carrying before.
And when you think about my spilled-milk moment and too-tired breaking point, it turns out that sometimes, you need to.
Three Things to Remember
Your imperfect moments do not define you. They invite you back to yourself with tenderness and truth.
Every moment is an opportunity to reconnect, to realign, and to choose love again.
You are allowed to be human.
As you are learning, stretching, and doing the best you can with what you have, may you always return to your breath, to your softness, and to the grace that is always available to you. And when you cry over spilled milk, remember that it is teaching you to repair what you break, forgive what you regret, and nourish everything with love.
Recent Blog Posts
How Vulnerability Became My Healing Practice — Piggybacking off of last week’s newsletter, I go deeper into how the brave act of asking for help created a space for healing.
25 Things I’m Leaving in 2025 — From treating rest like a luxury to mom guilt to acting like I don’t know who I am, I list everything I don’t want to carry with me into 2026.
25 Things That Black Women Really Want for Christmas — Because for a lot of Black women, we don’t step into this season from a place of ease. And after a year of survival, endurance, and strength that we never asked for, what we really want is is rooted in relief, rest, dignity, protection, softness, and support that doesn’t require suffering. So I wrote the honest version of our Christmas list. Not the polite version. Not the cute version. The real one.
If You’d Like to Go Deeper
Tell me when was the last time you apologized to yourself with the same tenderness you offered your child or anyone else who has been on the receiving end of your bad day. I’d love to hear from you and hold your story with care.
With Love,
Racquel