Vinalynn: The Tide That Would Not Break

my niece, my sister, my stubborn star

You came into this world already spoken for--grandpa’s girl, my shadow-sister, our family's wildflower.

I saw you before the world hardened your edges, watched your tiny body tucked into arms that weren’t always gentle and slept in rooms that weren’t always safe. You grew up where love and shouting shared the same kitchen.

I watched, silent, when your words weren’t believed and your spirit nearly bent under belt lashes and lectures. I couldn’t protect you from everything. But I stood between you and the worst of it when I could. And when I couldn’t, -- I still carried the echo of your cry until help finally came.

Now here you are paddling across blue-gray waves, cutting through water like you’ve got something to prove to everyone who ever doubted you. Medals around your neck, strength in your chest, grit in your bones and still that same loyal heart that can’t stop loving even those who sometimes twist the word.

You still let your grandma back in, even when her sharpness leaves scrapes on your peace. You're trying to set boundaries while remembering that once upon a time, her hands also carried you. 

That’s a hard kind of love. But you do it.

And I want you to know: you are not broken for going back. You are not weak for wanting peace. But baby girl, you’re allowed to close the door even when someone’s knocking with your DNA. You don’t owe your tenderness to those who’ve bruised it repeatedly.

You are your own ocean now-- and nothing calms a storm like a tide that learns when to return and when to rise.

With more pride than words will ever hold.

Author's Note

This poem carries the weight of protection, regret, and fierce love. It's for every child who stayed soft in hard places, and every adult who finally said, enough. If you’ve ever broken cycles quietly, or lifted someone else while losing your footing, I hope these words meet you gently. I write to remember, to release, and to honor what it took to survive.