I was eight months pregnant, waddling through the mall, feeling equal parts exhausted and excited. A woman approached me with a warm smile and said, “You’re glowing! My little son wants to touch your belly.” I appreciated the compliment, but the request made me pause. I gently replied, “No thank you, I’m not comfortable with that.”
Her expression shifted instantly. The warmth vanished. “It’s just a child!” she snapped. “What kind of mother will you be if you’re already this RUDE?” She stormed off, muttering that I was “entitled.”
I stood there stunned, my heart pounding—not from the confrontation, but from the weight of her judgment. I hadn’t yelled. I hadn’t insulted her. I’d simply said no. And yet, that small word seemed to offend her more than any harsh one could.
Pregnancy is a vulnerable time. My body is not public property. I’m growing a life inside me, and every touch, every interaction, feels amplified. I’ve learned to listen to my instincts, to protect my space, and to honor my comfort. That doesn’t make me rude—it makes me responsible.
Her reaction made me question myself. Was I too harsh? Should I have let her son touch my belly just to avoid conflict? But the truth is, boundaries aren’t about pleasing others—they’re about self-respect. Even children need to learn that consent matters. That someone saying “no” isn’t being mean—it’s being honest.
I didn’t overreact. I reacted with grace and clarity. And if that makes me “entitled,” then I’ll wear that label proudly. Because the kind of mother I hope to be is one who teaches her child that kindness includes respecting others’ limits.
