Mother's Day

 As I enter this new week ahead, I am forced to confront many huge feelings I have shoved behind closets and pantries and attics in my mind. My daughter, the one person who I have lived with longer than anyone, apart from my parents, is graduating from high school. For me, Motherhood has consisted of a consistent track full of Worry Obstacles. Anyone who knows me at all knows that worry has been my affliction in this life. My mother's mother was the same. Perhaps it's genetic. Maybe it is a combination of my childhood and location and personality. I have spent the past 17 years of my life in a constant state of worry. Because of this, I have had to teach myself how to be intentional with my time and presence. I have had to force joy. I have had to stop myself countless times only to say, "This. This is a GOOD thing." I've had to condition myself to notice the good. Condition is a funny word. I've conditioned myself for as long as I can remember, and it still does not come naturally. I have conditions to which I hold myself accountable. Ridiculous, outlandish conditions that make no sense at all. It's as if I believe, deep down, that if I do things just so, somehow I will be powerful enough to control the outcome of my life and my daughter's. Instead, I have been at the mercy of time and circumstances. And people. I have learned that I have very little say when it comes to my daughter and her life. And I do not mean this because she is nearly grown and capable of making her own decisions. I say this as, when we are young, we think our choices define ours and our children's futures. We think if we take a certain job, make a certain salary, move to a certain area, marry a certain individual, choose the right daycare, the right school, the right church that everything will work out the way we have imagined in our minds. Looking back, I realize that not even once has a choice that I've made lead to a situation or scenario where I imagined it to be exactly as it would be. Part of myself has dwelt in anger due to this revelation. If it were up to me, this or that would have happened. What I have learned, after raising a daughter for over half of her life on my own, is that we spend most of our time as mothers taking care of everyone else. We neglect ourselves for the sake of sacrifice. We think that if we ignore ourselves and put our children first then they will alone benefit. What I have learned is that our children are safe when we are safe. When we take the time to listen to our own hearts, fears, frustrations, laments and actually sit with them and process them, phenomenal things happen. I spent so many years pushing myself to the back of the room nearest the door in every moment of my life. When I was a young married woman, when I was a new mother, when I was active in the church, when I let that part of my life go, when I was newly divorced, when I formed new relationships. The common denominator was that I was the background character of my adult life. The second I began showing up for myself, an incredible thing happened. Walls became falling down. I became a person who was different to those who knew me. It was uncomfortable for them, and myself, if I'm honest. Writing initiated this change. I allowed myself to explore my feelings about life, God, the world, myself. Allowing myself to open up paved a way for me to better connect with my daughter. Sometimes, oftentimes, I am incredibly hard on myself. I look at this life and wonder what I have accomplished. Sometimes when we are living in it, we're too close to see the big picture. We have to take a step back and really look at how far we've come. All the small, human debts that we worry over. All the big mistakes we've made. All the big lessons we've learned from those big mistakes. How we've found ourselves after living so long for other people. At the end of the day, there are two faces I cannot avoid: my daughter's, and mine looking back at me in the mirror. At the end of the day, I have to know that I've tried my very best at this life for the both of us. I wasted many years waiting for someone to fill the gaps in my heart. Someone to come save me. In the end, I clawed myself out of the depths of despair. My daughter was my witness. Now she knows it can be done. No matter what happens in life, she knows that I am here for her. She knows my love for her is strong and unwavering. It will be her tether as she moves forward in her life. As I come to terms with my new supportive role in motherhood, I can rest knowing that I've given her my all. I've allowed her to see the good, the bad, the exhausted, the mundane, the exciting, the joyful, the awe-inspiring, the beautiful, the angry, the despairing, and the loving parts of my life. And I hope that as she moves forward in life, she will allow herself to be exactly who she is: this ever-changing, beautiful, intelligent, creative, funny, kind person. That she will take care of herself and move with confidence knowing that she has everything she will ever need deep inside of herself. That all she must do is look within.