I sat on the grass in the garden, feeling the weight of embarrassment settle heavily on my shoulders. My daughter sat beside me, her presence a silent comfort. I had cried in front of her, and the vulnerability of that moment left me feeling exposed and ashamed.
I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze, afraid of what I might see. I still can't believe that I had cried in front of her and allowed myself to be so vulnerable and weak. I had never wanted her to see me cry, to witness me in such a raw and emotional state.
As we sat in silence, neither of us saying a word, I could feel her gaze on me. She seemed to understand my turmoil, my embarrassment at having let my emotions get the best of me.
