Tiny Things

Tiny Things Things that you’ll surely love ❤️

My kids haven’t asked about you. Not once.Since the day we cut you off, it’s been quiet.And here’s the part that should ...
08/07/2025

My kids haven’t asked about you. Not once.

Since the day we cut you off, it’s been quiet.

And here’s the part that should keep you up at night:
They don’t even know what happened.
They don’t know the lies.
The manipulation.
The way you crossed line after line.
We never told them.

We just removed the chaos—and they never looked back.
They didn’t ask questions.
Didn’t cry for you.
Didn’t miss the version of “love” you offered.

That silence?
It speaks volumes.

Kids feel what words don’t explain.
And if their hearts didn’t notice your absence…
That says everything about the kind of presence you were.

Let that sink in.

Yes, starting over is hard. It's uncomfortable, uncertain, and sometimes lonely.But you know what's harder?Waking up yea...
25/06/2025

Yes, starting over is hard. It's uncomfortable, uncertain, and sometimes lonely.

But you know what's harder?

Waking up years from now, still shrinking yourself to fit into a relationship that drains you.

Still explaining away his behavior.
Still hoping that maybe this time he'll show up the way you deserve.

Still carrying the weight of protecting his image while your own spirit is breaking behind closed doors.

You're not here to prove your worth to someone who can't see it.

Don't waste your precious life waiting for someone to become who they promised to be.

Walk away. Heal. Rebuild.

You're not starting over.

You're setting yourself free. 🖤🕊️🤍

The father of your child…The one you were supposed to co-parent with…Is out here calling you a “bitter baby mom.”But whe...
25/06/2025

The father of your child…
The one you were supposed to co-parent with…
Is out here calling you a “bitter baby mom.”

But where is he when the baby is sick at 2 a.m.?
Where is he when the school fees are due, when the cupboards are empty, when your heart is heavy?

You’re the one holding it all together.
You’re the one wiping the tears—yours and your child’s.
You’re the one sacrificing, hustling, breaking down in silence, and still showing up like nothing’s wrong.

But somehow, you’re the bitter one?
Somehow, you’re the problem?

No.
You’re the warrior.
You’re the parent.
And you deserve so much more than blame. ♥️

I owe myself the biggest apology for putting up with what I didn't deserve. For silencing my voice just to avoid conflic...
24/06/2025

I owe myself the biggest apology for putting up with what I didn't deserve. For silencing my voice just to avoid conflict, for tolerating behavior that chipped away at my spirit, and for confusing loyalty with self-abandonment. I apologize to myself for accepting the bare minimum when I deserved so much more, for constantly showing up for people who wouldn't cross the street for me, and for allowing guilt, fear, and attachment to keep me stuck in places that were clearly hurting me.

I’m sorry for the nights I cried in silence, pretending everything was okay when I was breaking inside. I’m sorry for not walking away the first time I felt disrespected, for explaining my worth to people who were never ready to value it, and for staying in environments that made me question my sanity.

I should’ve protected my heart the way I protected others. I should’ve listened to my intuition instead of suppressing it to keep others comfortable. I should’ve chosen peace over the pain I normalized.

But now I know better. I’m learning to forgive myself—not just for what I allowed, but for not knowing how to protect myself sooner. Healing doesn’t mean I wasn’t strong—it means I’m becoming stronger than I’ve ever been. From this point on, I am no longer settling, shrinking, or staying silent. I owe it to myself to grow, to rise, to reclaim everything I lost, including the version of me that knew her worth."

When a mother goes no contact with her children's father, don't be so quick to call her bitter. Sometimes, it's not abou...
18/04/2025

When a mother goes no contact with her children's father, don't be so quick to call her bitter. Sometimes, it's not about revenge or resentment it's about peace.

She may have tried to co-parent. She may have given chance after chance. But at some point, she had to choose sanity over chaos.

She had to put her children's well-being first, even if that meant walking away from the drama, the disrespect, or the inconsistency.

Not every situation allows for healthy co-parenting. And sometimes, the best thing a mother can do is create a life where her kids don't have to grow up in dysfunction.

Choosing peace over a toxic cycle isn't being bitter it's being strong. 💪🌻🧡✨

Staying “for the kids” sounds noble—until you realize what they’re learning.They’re watching how love works in your home...
17/04/2025

Staying “for the kids” sounds noble—until you realize what they’re learning.

They’re watching how love works in your home.
How silence is used as punishment.
How affection is withheld.
How apologies never come.
How walking on eggshells becomes part of the routine.

They see you tolerate disrespect.
They see you settle for survival.
They hear the arguments through thin walls.
They feel the energy shift before a single word is spoken.

And they’re learning. Not from what you say— but from what you live.

So when you think staying is protecting them,
ask yourself this:
What am I showing them love looks like?
What am I teaching them to accept one day?

Because one day they’ll be grown.
And they’ll either repeat the chaos,
or spend years healing from it.

So no—leaving isn’t selfish.
Breaking the cycle isn’t weakness.
Choosing peace isn’t failure.

Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can show your child is how to stop pretending something broken is still worth bleeding for.

From the Woman Who Finally Left — To the Version of Me Who Was Still Planning Her EscapeI remember you.The way you kept ...
10/04/2025

From the Woman Who Finally Left — To the Version of Me Who Was Still Planning Her Escape

I remember you.
The way you kept pretending.
The way you smiled just enough to keep people from asking questions.
The way you whispered “I can’t keep living like this” into your pillow at night,
then got up the next morning and made breakfast like everything was fine.

I remember the way your hands shook while Googling apartments.
The way your heart raced every time you wondered if you were strong enough to do this.
The way you second-guessed yourself, because he told you no one else would love you—
and some small, scared part of you almost believed him.

But you kept going.
You kept packing your courage in small, quiet ways—
phone numbers hidden, money saved, moments of clarity scribbled into journals or typed into notes you deleted just in case.

You didn’t leave out of anger.
You left because you were finally ready to choose you.

And now I’m here.
Free.
Healing.
Safe.

The air tastes different now.
There’s no more flinching when the door opens.
No more tracking moods like weather forecasts.
No more shrinking yourself to survive another day.

I’m not saying it’s perfect.
There are still scars.
There are still memories.
But there’s also peace.

And I wish I could go back and hold you.
Tell you that you’re not crazy.
Tell you that the fear is normal.
Tell you that what you’re doing is brave—even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Because one day, you’re going to wake up and realize:
You didn’t just leave him.
You came back to yourself.

And that?
That was always the most powerful thing you could do.

I’m Not Co-Parenting With a Part-Time ParentI’m sorry but I’m not co-parenting with a man who doesn’t make his child his...
09/04/2025

I’m Not Co-Parenting With a Part-Time Parent

I’m sorry but I’m not co-parenting with a man who doesn’t make his child his first priority.

I’m not doing it.

I’m not begging. I’m not reminding. I’m not dragging a grown man to show up for the child he helped create.

Because being a parent is a full-time job.
Not a part-time gig you clock in and out of when it’s convenient.

Not a role you pick up when your schedule clears.
Not something you do when you feel like it.

You don’t get to ghost and come back.
You don’t get to parent through Facebook posts and birthday pictures.

You don’t get to make me the default and then act like we’re “co-parenting.”
No.

If everything is still on me if I’m still the one handling the school meetings, the sleepless nights, the meltdowns, the milestones then you’re not co-parenting.

You’re watching me parent while you play pretend.

And I won’t let my kids think that’s okay.
I won’t let them keep waiting by the phone.
I won’t let them feel half-loved, half-important, or like they have to earn your time.

Because they deserve more.
They deserve consistency.
They deserve effort.
They deserve a parent who doesn’t just show up when it’s easy but who stays when it’s hard.
Who prioritizes them even when it’s not fun or convenient.

So no —
I’m not co-parenting with someone who only wants the title, but not the work.
I’d rather do it all alone than watch my babies get hurt by your bare minimum.

This isn’t about bitterness.
It’s about protection.
And I will always choose my children’s peace over your presence.

Every. Single. Time.

"One day, your kids will figure you out."Hindi habangbuhay bata ang mga anak natin. Hindi habangbuhay basta na lang nila...
09/04/2025

"One day, your kids will figure you out."

Hindi habangbuhay bata ang mga anak natin. Hindi habangbuhay basta na lang nila tinatanggap ang lahat ng sinasabi natin. Darating ang araw, they'll start to see things for what they really are.

They’ll notice how you talk to your spouse—kapag may ibang tao… at kapag kayong dalawa lang.

They’ll remember how you handled stress.
Kung paano ka magalit, kung paano ka magsorry (o kung hindi ka nagsosorry).
They’ll recall kung paano ka magpakumbaba—or kung palagi kang kailangang tama.

They’ll see if you truly made time for them—or kung palagi silang nasa “later” ng schedule mo.
If you were patient with them when they struggled, or if you only praised them when they performed well.

They’ll recognize if your faith was genuine—or kung sinasabi mo lang ‘yan every Sunday.

Nakakatakot isipin minsan, no? Kasi bilang magulang, we often focus so much on providing, guiding, correcting… na minsan nakakalimutan natin na TAYO ang una nilang example of love, grace, humility, and respect.

Ang tanong:
When they grow up and look back, will they be thankful for the kind of parent you were?
Will they say, “Gusto kong maging katulad ni Mama / Papa”?
Or will they quietly promise themselves, “Ayokong lumaki ang anak ko the way I did.”

Hindi tayo perpekto. At hindi natin kailangang maging perfect.
But we can be intentional.
We can say sorry. We can grow.
We can show them what it looks like to be real, to love deeply, and to walk in faith.

Because someday, they’ll figure us out.
And I hope, by God’s grace, they’ll see a parent who tried their best—with love, with humility, and with purpose.

Dear Child Who Watched Their Parents Fall Apart,You remember the slammed doors.The words that cut through walls.The sile...
08/04/2025

Dear Child Who Watched Their Parents Fall Apart,

You remember the slammed doors.
The words that cut through walls.
The silence that said more than shouting ever could.

You remember trying to be small,
to not take up space, to be the reason they stayed
or at least the reason they didn’t fight that night.

And you tried—you tried so hard to keep the peace in a war that wasn’t yours.

You didn’t understand all of it,
but you felt it.
The shift.
The distance.
The way love started to sound different—like something sharp and cold.

You watched the people who were supposed to teach you how to love, forget how to love each other.
And that kind of heartbreak?
It stays with you in quiet ways.

In the way you flinch at conflict.
In the way you over-apologize.
In the way you question if love always ends in leaving.

But none of this was your fault.
Not the tension.
Not the breaking.
Not the way they stopped looking at each other like they used to.

You were just a child.
And children should never have to carry adult heartbreak.

You deserved to feel safe.
To feel shielded.
To feel like your home was a soft place to land—not a battlefield with no winner.

So if no one ever told you this before,
hear it now:

You were never the problem.
You were just the quiet witness to something they couldn’t hold together.
And you deserved so much more peace than they gave you.

You still do.

Some moms don’t get breaks.They don’t get weekends off.They don’t get help.No babysitter.No grandparents stopping by.No ...
08/04/2025

Some moms don’t get breaks.
They don’t get weekends off.
They don’t get help.

No babysitter.
No grandparents stopping by.
No co-parent texting, “Do you need anything?”
Just them.
Holding it all together with quiet strength and trembling hands.

These are the moms who cry in the shower.
Who feed everyone before themselves.
Who show up to every school event alone, clapping with a smile while their heart quietly aches for someone to share the moment with.

They carry the weight of being everything—provider, nurturer, protector, disciplinarian, cook, cleaner, comforter.

And still, they feel like they’re not doing enough.

But let me say this clearly:

You are not failing.
You are fighting.

It’s not weakness that you’re tired—
it’s proof that you’re doing the work of many.

You don’t need a “village” to be a good mom.
You are the village.
You are the safety net.
You are the love.
You are the story your child will tell one day when someone asks,
“Who showed up for you?”

And they’ll say,
“My mom. She always did.”

Address

Bacolod City
6100

Telephone

+639495810235

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Tiny Things posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Share