I'm really happy to be a mom, and I'm proud of the phase I'm in.

In the gentle yet resolute words of Liz Phair, there is a declaration both tender and profound: “I’m really happy to be a mom, and I’m proud of the phase I’m in.” These are not the words of someone boasting of success or fame, but of a soul at peace with her becoming. In a world that constantly pushes us toward the next goal, the next transformation, she pauses—to cherish a single moment, a single phase of life, and to claim it as sacred. Her statement is a hymn to acceptance, to presence, and to the quiet strength that flows from embracing who we are, right now.

In the age of the ancients, it was believed that the journey of life was divided into seasons, each with its own purpose and wisdom. There was the spring of youth, bright with discovery; the summer of passion and building; the autumn of harvest and reflection; and the winter of rest and legacy. To honor each phase was to live in harmony with nature itself. Liz Phair’s words awaken that same understanding in modern form—an affirmation that joy is not found in wishing to return to the past, nor in rushing toward the future, but in standing fully in the present, unashamed and grateful.

To say “I am proud of the phase I’m in” is a courageous act in an age of comparison. Many struggle against the passage of time, mourning the days gone by or fearing what lies ahead. But Phair speaks like the wise matriarchs of old, those who knew that life’s beauty is not diminished by change, only transformed by it. To be happy as a mother, to stand firm in one’s identity, is to celebrate the sacred cycle of giving, nurturing, and renewal. Her joy is not loud—it is grounded, it is earned, and it is radiant with peace.

Consider the story of Cornelia Africana, the Roman matron known as the “Mother of the Gracchi.” When other noblewomen flaunted their jewels, Cornelia presented her children and said, “These are my treasures.” She understood, as Liz Phair does, that motherhood is not a retreat from greatness but one of its purest expressions. In nurturing life, a woman participates in the eternal rhythm of creation itself. Cornelia’s pride was not vanity—it was reverence for the phase she was chosen to live. So too, Phair’s words echo that ancient truth: that the role of motherhood is not a limitation, but a divine calling, and one worthy of pride.

Her statement also speaks beyond motherhood—it touches all who walk through the shifting seasons of existence. Each person has phases: the artist, the lover, the parent, the teacher, the wanderer, the wise. To be at peace with one’s phase is to live without resistance. It is to understand that identity is not lost when we change—it evolves. Happiness, in this sense, is born not of circumstance, but of alignment with the truth of who we are becoming.

From her words emerges a powerful lesson: celebrate your now. Do not apologize for where you are in life—whether it is a time of nurturing, of building, or of rest. Each moment holds its own sanctity. To live regretful of the past or impatient for the future is to rob the present of its gifts. Instead, stand proud in your phase, as Liz Phair does, and let gratitude be your crown. For pride, when rooted in authenticity, is not arrogance—it is honor. It is the soul’s way of saying, “I am where I am meant to be.”

So, O listener, take these words to heart: the river of life does not flow backward, nor does it pause—it moves forward, carrying you through its bends and depths. Rejoice in the stage you inhabit, for it, too, shall pass, and its lessons will never return in quite the same way. Whether you are a creator, a parent, a dreamer, or a healer, hold your present phase as sacred ground. For when you learn to love each season of your becoming, you will find, as Liz Phair has, that joy is not found in chasing what’s next, but in quietly, courageously, and gratefully saying—I am happy, and I am proud of where I stand.