Wednesday, July 9, 2008

The Mother in Me

For me, the hardest thing I have ever had to do was be a mother. Not just be a mother, but dedicate my life to the welfare of another human being who cannot fight for himself. I have to be his warrior and his protector. I'm always learning. New layers form and I see the depth of who I am... a person I didn't know I could be. I am different now. I thought I knew what sacrifice was, but now it has become so clear to me. Before my son, I lived so carelessly... I travelled with nothing, spent money like I was a 2nd generation Rockerfeller, and did any and everything I wanted. I have to learn to stop living in the past. The fact of the matter is that Yusef is here now. I am a different person now.
Now is a time when I need so much direction. I need a hug and someone to tell me I'm doing a good job. I need comfort. I'm so tired. TIRED. I'm lonely and I divulge myself in trying. Trying to do what? I'm not sure. All my steps feel like trudging. Everything feels difficult... like I'm stuck in quicksand all the time. I can't get out and I have a load on my back. He can't swim. I have no training. I miss love. I need my mother in the worst way. The "watching over you" speech isn't working right now. This isn't about me. It's about someone who hasn't learned to tell me if his food is too warm or his blanket isn't tight enough. Its about someone who can't tell me if I'm fucking up or not.
I'm still a woman with needs. So how do I let someone new in? How would I let him in to my biggest insecurities and still look him in the eye. How do I know that he would even be looking at me the same way he did before? How could I say that I'm so upset with myself for my mishaps as a mom let alone even becoming one. Where would I find the words to tell him about my fear of being "one of those who fell by the wayside"? How do I say that this life that I'm living isn't my own, but someone else's? Sounds crazy and shallow... but honest. I'm always trying.
I want to be the best I mom I can be, but I always ask myself about the possibilities of that happening. I'm not sure. Actually, I'm never sure. I'm tired, fed up, hungry, and at my limit more times than enjoying the babbling of my 1 yr. old. I feel so alone and closed. Hurting...

They say it'll get better. When?

Friday, July 4, 2008


When it rains, it's really a hailstorm on my side of town. But I've got an umbrella.