"I am a Mother. Despite my age, My ethnic background, My Financial Stability, My opinions and views, My religion, My Weight, My appearance, My mistakes, and My Past. I dreamed of you, I created you and I made you. I am a Mother, and I will always love you."
I hate how much I think about Owens daddy. I had my first baby shower this weekend and I’ve wanted nothing more than to ask if he wants to come over and see everything is son has gotten so far… I hate I’m not as strong as I claim to be to everyone… I just want him in Owens life. I want him to give up the party life like I had to do. I want him to ask me if he can come over just to feel his strong boy kick. I want him to come over and just talk to him so he knows his voice. Owens never even heard it before. I’m so scared when he’s born, if his daddy shows up, that when he holds him, he screams and cries because he wants to be with someone he knows. My boy did nothing to deserve to not know his father… Nothing at all. I don’t understand how anyone could choose to not be apart of their child’s life…
"When the terror of life grips you, return to Mother Nature. Sit by the tallest tree, and release some sorrow into the Earth."
Since finding out I was pregnant, I haven’t been with anyone, I can’t even flirt with anyone. At first I thought it was because I still had feelings for my child’s father, and it may have. But now, I don’t want to be with anyone for the simple fact I have everything I want and need. I have a growing, healthy baby boy, an amazing support system, and all I ever wanted from the time I was little was to be a single mother, just because I didn’t want someone in my child’s life then disappear. Maybe one day when my sons born, and we are ready, someone with their life together whose on the same path I am, will show up. But I’m not looking any longer. I have my son and that’s the only man I need sharing my bed.
I’ll never punish my daughter for saying no.
The first time it comes out of her mouth, I’ll smile gleefully. As she repeats “No! No! No!” I’ll laugh, overjoyed. At a young age, she’ll have mastered a wonderful skill. A skill I’m still trying to learn. I know I’ll have to teach her that she has to eat her vegetables, and she has to take a nap. But “No” is not wrong. It is not disobedience.
1. She will know her feelings are valid.
The first time a boy pulls her hair after she says no, and the teacher tells her “boys will be boys,” we will go to her together, and explain that my daughter’s body is not a public amenity. That boy isn’t teasing her because he likes her, he is harassing her because it is allowed. I will not reinforce that opinion. If my son can understand that “no means no” so can everyone else’s.
3. She owes no one her silence, her time, or her cooperation.
The first time she tells a teacher, “No, that is wrong,” and proceeds to correct his public school, biased rhetoric, I’ll revel in the fact that she knows her history; that she knows our history. The first time she tells me “No” with the purpose and authority that each adult is entitled, I will stop. I will apologize. I will listen.
4. She is entitled to her feelings and her space. I, even a a parent, have no right to violate them.
The first time my mother questions why I won’t make her kiss my great aunt at Christmas, I’ll explain that her space isn’t mine to control. That she gains nothing but self doubt when she is forced into unwanted affection. I’ll explain that “no” is a complete sentence. When the rest of my family questions why she is not made to wear a dress to our reunion dinner. I will explain that her expression is her own. It provides no growth to force her into unnecessary and unwanted situation.
6. She is entitled to her expression.
When my daughter leaves my home, and learns that the world is not as open, caring, and supportive as her mother, she will be prepared. She will know that she can return if she wishes, that the real world can wait. She will not want to. She will not need to. I will have prepared her, as much as I can, for a world that will try to push her down at every turn.
7. She is her own person. She is complete as she is.
I will never punish my daughter for saying no. I want “No” to be a familiar friend. I never want her to feel that she cannot say it. She will know how to call on “No” whenever it is needed, or wanted."
"I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love."