Dear Mother
Mothering Myself: A Reflection on Love and Healing
Mother’s day was a celebrated and it got me thinking of so many ways we need to start celebrating ourselves as women. Conventional motherhood is something I’m yet to experience as a woman but that is not to say that I have no clue on what it means to mother a human being. Bearing a child and caring for that innocent being is no joke and I’m not writing this to undermine such experience even though I think it distracts us from ourselves as women.
This season of life is for me to be a mother to myself. Last month, I sat on my mother’s bed, going through old pictures she has been keeping. I came across photos of my great grandmother who I thought was more beautiful than anyone had described. Tears filled my eyes as I flipped through the old album pages, a picture of me few months old with a hand inscription written by my father brought feeling of joy, relief, shame, regret and guilt. Why am I feeling all these emotions all at once?
‘’ I’m no longer the baby in this photo’’ I thought to myself. I would argue under a different circumstance that I’m still that little girl but for now let us leave it at that. Seeing our family photos that night made me celebrate how we’ve grown individually and collectively. We’re all so beautifully unique.
It is a hard pill to swallow for my loved ones but I couldn’t recognise myself in the mirror early last year. Even though I appreciate those dark times, I don’t think I would be here writing this if I had not gone through it. At almost 30 I finally understand that becoming the best version of myself takes time. I’m mothering myself through the most challenging times trusting that it shall pass. Learning to hold myself, cry with myself, dance with myself, hug myself, experience the wholesomeness of my existence is all an honour.
Mothering myself means that I’m no longer avoiding the uncomfortable truths. I’m aware that a statement like this sounds cliche but the more i heal and the older i get the more i’m able to acknowledge the generational pain, guilt, shame and envy that I carry without shame.
Despite how deeply I feel about my family, i can now breathe and follow the path that isn’t laid down for me. For the first time, I’m leaning into understanding why I want a kind of love, patience and understanding that only I can give to myself. Yesterday i found myself thinking about how i want to look back with clarity, confidence and a strong sense of self. And if i ever decide to birth a life then it will be a from a place acceptance and not control.
If i’m being honest, I don’t fully grasp the depth, and responsibility that parenting myself means. I’m jumping into it whole heartedly because I want to feel chosen, understood and irreplaceable.
Happy mother’s day to all the sexy mama’s out there.
You make the freaking world go round. I’m in awe of your strength and love.
Versions
I have been auditioning for love Reminder that I’m love Consistently bringing awareness to that.
Can I just breathe? Been holding my breath for years Waiting for a shoe to drop Sleeping with one eye open
Fear of abandonment and failure covers.
Validity in my bones Choice in my actions So I rest in peace now.
Today I choose to make peace with all the women I once was I lay flowers at their feet, hug those versions of me tightly They need to know I’m proud.
Honor them by giving them five minutes of silence.
Journaling prompt
What does mothering myself mean to me today?
In what ways have I shown myself love and care recently?
What are some truths I am ready to acknowledge without shame?