She smiles  —light as morning air, untouched by the weight of the world  —and somehow, that tiny curve of joy heals hearts   in ways words never could.

Where others see differences  , I see beauty in its purest form  —unfiltered, gentle, luminous.
She doesn’t need to fit any standard  … because she is the standard of love  .

When my daughter arrived  , everything shifted. Beauty became something felt, not seen—something soft, tender, and bright the way innocence glows. Every giggle  , every sleepy breath  , every curious wonder reminds me that life becomes sweeter   when viewed through love.
Pure magic. Pure joy. Pure love.