A Healing Letter to My Mom

Mom and me 2014

Dear Mom,

I just want to start this letter by apologizing to you for any pain I caused you growing up. Now that I am a mom, there’s so much about you that I’m finally starting to understand.

Now, I don’t think I was terrible (I had moments when I flirted with that boundary!), but I had no idea just how much I took you for granted. I took for granted all of the things you did for me sometimes, all of the invisible sacrifices you made. I always had food, shelter, education, clothes, and the best you could afford. You always made sure I had what I needed. I’m 30 and you still have my back!

I understand the depth of a mother’s love now. I understand that it’s the greatest emotional bond you can have. You start making sacrifices in other areas: friends, non-immediate family; anything outside of work and holding down the household gets to be too much. There just aren’t  enough hours in the day to do it all and stay sane. Other things slowly fade from view, as you sit in traffic for 2 hours each day to get to and from work, and rush to pick me up from school, and rush to make dinner, and rush to help me with homework, and rush to clean up, rush to pay bills, and rush to get things ready for the next day. Who’s got the energy for anything else?  You sacrificed your life for me, and I am eternally grateful.

I understand that you’re living in a society that doesn’t appreciate you. It sure makes a nice greeting card, but didn’t make sure you had pay or benefits when you took time off with to be with me. It forced you to choose between your passion and family. Would you work and pursue your dreams? Or sacrifice them to watch me grow? No mother should have to make that choice.

And I know you felt a lot of guilt over the divorce with dad. I understand you didn’t want to break up our family. I get now all of the pressure that was on your shoulders: the way that women, and especially Black women, are expected to be Superwomen: we have to look perfect, work, be financial wizards and CEOs, be the family cheerleaders, cook, keep the house perfect, get our kids to college and extracurriculars…. It’s too much for any one person to take on alone!

If I could back into time as an adult, and talk to you at that age, I would tell you that’s it’s ok. That you are loved, you are appreciated, and that I don’t need you to be perfect. I didn’t know it when I was younger, but I wanted and needed you to love yourself as the flawed human being that you are. I needed you to model that for me. To make it ok for me now that I’m a woman. I remember being a teenager and being angry with you, because when I was in the face of your “perfection”, I felt like I needed to be perfect to be accepted. You don’t know this, but that is my struggle to this day. You didn’t know how damaging that could be, you were trying to protect me. You were trying to wrap me up in a suit of armor like you had done for yourself.  

I hope that I can pass on to my daughter all of the lessons you’ve taught me, about strength and resiliency. And I hope to add how this society doesn’t have your back, how to really love yourself, by accepting all of who you are: strengths and any the perceived shortcomings.

And when you started to get sick, we were forced together in a way that we hadn’t been before. You were vulnerable. And at first, it terrified me to see my impenetrable mom sick. But you were and still are beautiful. Never had you been so honest with me about your life, your thoughts. You have been through so much, and you opened up to me in ways that have made us very close.

I love you more than words can express. Thank you for all that you do, all that you put up with, and all the invisible ways you continue to have my back. Thank you for your prayer and wisdom. Keep it up! I will never outgrow it.

 

Love,

Ayana

Comments

    1. Thrive & Be Whole

      Thank you Alexia!!! 🙂 What a compliment 🙂

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