I see you at playgroup, looking at the other mothers, longing to connect, longing to have a conversation with another adult who might become a real friend.

I see you, cursing silently to yourself, because you forgot one of the many important things on the list of kid essentials that you need before you can go somewhere.

I see you in the parking lot, struggling to wrangle your children, so you can get groceries to feed your family.

I see you, weary and exhausted, because you’re fighting a cold and desperately need your rest.

I see you, wrought with concern, because you know things will be so much worse if the kids catch your cold.

I see you at the drive-thru, shaming yourself for feeding your children fast food, but needing a break from trying to cook while children are tugging at your shirt.

I see you sneaking a piece of chocolate, and giving yourself a quiet high-five, while your kids are in the other room.

I see you at the end of the day, when you finally get a moment of solitude, curling up on the couch and savoring your time alone.

I see you, without a partner, carrying the load of motherhood on your shoulders while you struggle to remember who you were when it was just you.

I see you, watching your children while they do the most mundane things, and wondering how incredible it is that you made these tiny humans.

I see you every time I look in the mirror because I am you.

I am the person who gives you an empathetic smile when your toddler is throwing a tantrum in the middle of a store because I’ve been right where you are.

I am the person who offers to pick up what you dropped because your hands are full.

I am the person who will tell you that you’re doing an amazing job at being a mom because you are.

I am the person who believes in you.

I am a mom.