To the One Who Calls Me Mama Bear

You know who you are.

You call me Mama Bear, and somehow, that one nickname carries more truth than most people ever manage to catch in an entire lifetime of knowing me.

This one’s for you.

Because let’s be honest—there aren’t enough words in the world to properly explain what it’s like to love someone platonically, fiercely, forever. You’re not my partner. You’re not my blood. But you are, without question, my family.

You’ve seen me at my worst—ugly crying, mascara-streaked, furious at the universe and barely holding on—and you never flinched. You didn’t try to fix it or dress it up. You just stayed. You let me be real. That’s something rare. Something sacred.

You’re the one I call when the sky feels like it’s falling or when I just need to hear a voice that doesn’t demand anything from me. When the world gets too loud, too sharp, too damn much—you’re the silence that wraps around my bones and reminds me I’m still here.

And I love you for that.

Not in some “let’s define this on a Hallmark card” kind of way. Not in a half-hearted, Instagram-filtered, social-media-ready way. But in a soul-deep, ride-or-die, witch-and-warrior-share-a-campfire kind of way. You’ve sat with my ghosts. You’ve let me hold yours. We’ve laughed in the face of grief and dared to dream anyway.

You’ve heard my rage and held space for it.

You’ve heard my joy and celebrated like it was your own.

You’ve told me the truth when I didn’t want to hear it, and you’ve stood beside me anyway, knowing damn well I’d figure it out in my own stubborn time.

And somewhere along the way, we created this bond that doesn’t need explanations or boundaries or check-ins. You just are. You exist in my life like a fixed star—reliable, brilliant, a little chaotic—but mine.

I miss you more than I say.

Even when we’re not in touch every day, even when life pulls us in a thousand directions, that thread between us is still strong. You pull on it, and I feel it. Every. Damn. Time.

You are one of the great loves of my life. And I don’t need romance to say that out loud.

Thank you for calling me Mama Bear.

Thank you for being exactly who you are—unfiltered, unwavering, unforgettable.

I’ll always have your six.

And a seat at my fire will always be waiting.