I and my mother

My mother and I 

Just me and her

Just her and I

When I was 6,

I always found myself in the bathroom,

while my mom was doing her hair.

I would say,

"Mom, you're so beautiful."

"If only I could be that fair."

She would respond,

"You have to say things like that."

Or, she would say, 

"Uh no, I am getting a little fat." 

Ironically, or not so,

I took that self-esteem as my own, 

As a child, I grew up,

Hating 

Berating 

Sublimating

The very flesh that carried me; 

The very body that housed my soul.

I was so unkind.

My shoulders would hunch. 

I slouched in my seat. 

Who would ever like someone whose head 

Followed their feet?

At this point,

I accepted everything that everyone told me

About me

As truth. 

School was something that came easy to me;

It also became my identity. 

My mother, 

And let alone

Everyone else, 

Took in my excellence in school 

And deemed me as 

"Good" 

"Good" because I was good at school,

Not because I was cool, but

Well behaved

Caused no trouble 

no dismay:

I was good. 

Yet, 

I was good because

I was "good" at school.

I felt, in a sense, maybe,

Just maybe,

I was worth no more than this. 

That my sense of worth had somehow been 

Always attached to educational advancements.

My father came into my life at 11.

I found out that 

Well,

He had a whole family: 

3 children 

2 boys

1 girl 

And me, 

The unwanted one. 

I couldn't understand,

My feeble young mind,

Why was it me 

That had to be disregarded.

Scarred

Barred

& Charred

Was I not enough to have a father?

Did I have to earn this just as I did 

For a grade in school?

Was this an evidence-based rule?

As a preteen, 

Family dynamics always made me queasy

The movies made it all seem so easy.

Through marriage, into another family I was thrust,

And still without anyone to trust.

Why was it that adults had so much baggage

That they couldn’t accept a child that was just trying to manage. 

These adults, or children 

Never had anything positive to say 

And would always throw so much dirt

on my mother and my’s name. 

It caused me so much pain.

I felt like I wasn't wanted in any way. 

Impressionable and naïve,

I shut my mouth and threw away the key.

I took everyone's narrative of who I should be 

And how I should navigate the world as if it were me.

Coming to the realization of who I am and want to be,

I began to silence the noise and attune to my being.

Slowly remembering the things that made me, me;

Recollecting the thoughts of how I was created to be.

This was me. 

Nobody, but

Me.

The past 

cannot dictate the future,

And through the silence 

And the pain

The confusion

And a bit of rain 

I’ve learned to be, just be.

Therefore,

I am acknowledging that 

I am powerful.

I can achieve anything that I set my mind to.

I am more than what others have said about me. 

I am worth more than rubies and pearls. 

I am worthy.

No matter what I've been through, 

No matter who dislikes me, 

I can no longer afford 

To succumb to others thoughts 

And emotions of me.

For I know, 

That I have a lot of knowledge to share 

And a lot of great wisdom to give.

I have silenced myself, 

Shied away from my being,

Have been fearful to even speak, 

Because of the doubt within me.

But being me is what brings me peace. 

What others think,

Will never give me this ease.