My postpartum season revealed something I didn’t expect. Not just physical changes. Not just exhaustion. Not just the slow, sacred work of healing. It revealed my self-talk. And it wasn’t kind. Somewhere along the way, I had quietly adopted a belief I didn’t even know I held: that the fruit of the Spirit only mattered when it was directed toward other people. Be patient with others. Be gentle with others. Speak lovingly to others. Extend grace to others. But toward myself? Di