The Red Letter "P"

I never wanted to be a mom. There. I said it.

Condemn me, if you dare.

It wasn’t for lack of love, or vision, or care.

It was from overwhelming fear.

Fear of failing, fear of being less than I needed to be,

of not having what a precious new life

needed most from the inner depths of me.

Depths I feared to explore.

Grim, frightening caves filled with nightmare spiders,

Un-scaleable rocks and plummeting drops.

I wanted only the best for you . . .

the brightest shining star,

my miracle, my sunshine.

Once I took the trembling plunge

Into reluctant motherhood,

I pulled out all the stops,

driving full steam ahead,

wearing my “red letter P” brand, becoming one

of those parents others dread:

     You know those others, the ones who take so seriously

     a supposed civic duty to instruct, to criticize, and twist compliance

     to their internal vision of how it should be between a mom and her child?

Lesson learned:

Advocacy is just another name 

for the physics of pushing back

and standing firm

 
Advertisements

Let me know what you think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s