I told my son that I was sad, that I was having a bad day. I said it to him as if he would understand. He’s four.

Why did I feel the need to share that with him?

It was like a warning. I already felt the need to apologize to him, though I hadn’t done anything wrong. But just in case mom is too quiet… Just in case I yell about something stupid, just in case I’m lazy today, or you hear me cry…

“I am just a little sad son. I am just having a bad day.”

“Tomorrow I will be better. I promise.”

He says… “It’s okay to be sad mom. “

He hugs me and says, “I know you’re sad, but I want to tell you something. I love you mom.”

I am sad, and I am having a bad day. But because of him, tomorrow will be better.

I promise.


Maybe if I make the eyeliner thicker, apply a darker shade of eye shadow, go heavy with the mascara; they won’t notice the dark circles under my eyes.

Apply some of that cream blush, make my cheeks a little pink, so they wont notice the flush.

Smile a lot, grin big, they’ll think I’m happy.

Talk with confidence and excitement, so they won’t notice how lost I really am.

If a tear manages to escape, wipe it away quickly and blame it on burning eyes, or allergies.

Think like an actress, play your role and never break character… they won’t see it.

They don’t see it.

Don’t let on that you haven’t been sleeping, or that you’re sleeping too much.

Don’t let them suspect that you cry a lot behind closed doors.

Let them think you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, that your life is going according to plan.

Suck it up.

Think like an actress, play your role, and never break character.

They won’t see it.

They don’t want to see it.

They never see it.

They don’t see it.

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