Mother

Inspiration

One day, confidence started to rain all over me. I wanted to say, “no fair, rain wasn’t in the forecast.” However, time was not donated to me for hosting my pity party. Very soon after I felt the change, this shower I speak of began to feel like a right of passage. Like, I was being initiated into a new chapter of womanhood. The feeling of getting to know myself was so pleasurable, I didn’t care that it upset my old routines and behaviors. God was up to something. I heard that I had an assignment that was long overdue… This was written as a tribute to strong women. The strongest woman I know is my mother. This is titled for her.

Mother

Miss Twenty-Two, I am not for women like you. Fresh off the stage-diploma in hand, out of your mama’s house, with a job that you think pays a lot. You think you know everything.

Mrs. Thirty-Four, women like you, while you are amazed at how I do I what I do, you’re really not that interested  to invest in me. Your time ticks for the children at home, your lover, your job and maybe your best friend. Your problems outweigh the scale numbered on your bathroom floor. You want to care, but what for? No time to eat, not enough time to sleep. Chile, my walk and my talk, you barely even see.

Mother. It is you. It is women like you, who are my audience. I see. It is the women like you who wish you were me. Not in the flesh, I mean, theoretically. You sit up in amazement and imagine yourself in my seat. Walking, talking, moving so effortlessly. Speaking only to yourself, “If I would have done it that way, things would have turned out much differently.” Never realizing the balls on the bottom of your feet could have bounced you back, while you watch me master the art of resiliency.

This wanting that you have can’t be labeled like things. It is an untouchable emotion that demonstrates as the marvel in your eye as you watch a younger woman be what you were certain the world didn’t want to see. It is you: my mother and aunts that I must reach. Cause I give you the life you never lived and never will since your time has passed, no more figuring out who you should be.

Dreamily, you gaze at who I am for you and for me. In those eyes drenched with wisdom, you unlock a new truth that I am still too blind to see. Just wait, your eyes say, wait until you’re, what young people call older, like me. Oh how I wish I could have been just like you, still it doesn’t match the feeling felt by women like me.

I can’t wait mother. Because right now, I cling to womanhood like it is my last breath. I’m fighting to hold my spot like there is nothing left. I can’t wait mother. I can’t wait because what I my eyes let me see, in you, a woman who is heard without saying a thing.