You mother, your mother, but you're a mother now.

And that's bittersweet some days because sometimes standing inside a motherhood reminds you of all the mothering that you didn't receive.

Sometimes while showing up, you can hear your 13-year-old self-whispering. Why does nobody show up for me?

So how did you get to be? A reflection of what you didn't see.

The adult version of everything you would need, life gut is all out here trying to be a reflection of what you didn't see?

The adult version of everything you would need, Life God is all out here trying to be grown,

raising our kids and still trying to raise the child that lives inside of me.

But thank you God.

That we are who we are, not because of, but in spite of.

I got a bold voice for the little girl who ain't ever have one.

In the side eye that says you got me effed up without ever having to say it because now

I get to make the decision on when I will not use my voice.

Instead of abiding by children or to be seen, not heard, I watch my friends who are now fathers,

take care of their sons and I wonder what type of healing has that done for the boy inside

of them?

I watch my friends who ain't fathers or mothers, but they good people.

Seeing the world through the eyes of compassion will have you giving grace to your parents,

will have you wondering how did they manage?

I mean, she was just a woman before she was your mother.

And if life stripped her of that opportunity, then she was a girl just like you.

At times you can hear the tone of your

mother's voice inside of how you talk to your children. So I want to say, you mother, you mother,

...