For years, I was the mother who always said yes. I put everyone else first, even when I was exhausted and had nothing left to give. But after a painful family vacation in Brittany, my daughter finally realized what she had been doing to me. And at 62, I discovered something I should have learned decades earlier: loving your family should never mean losing yourself.

No expectations.

No invisible list of things that needed to be done.

Just the two of us.

Later that afternoon, we returned to the guesthouse and rested before going out for dinner.

When I opened my suitcase, I saw the blue shirt I had brought with me.

I held it in my hands for a moment.

It was just a shirt.

A simple piece of clothing.

But to me, it represented something I had postponed for too long.

I changed into it.

When I came out of the bathroom, Claire looked up from her phone.

Then she smiled.

“You brought it.”

“Yes.”

“It looks beautiful on you, Mom.”

I glanced down at the shirt.

“Thank you.”

She stood and walked toward me.

“I wish you had worn it last time.”

“So do I,” I answered.

Then I shook my head gently.

“But I am wearing it now.”

Claire hugged me.