I have a confession to make. My mum isn't better than your mum. I could posture in my pontification, I could make huge claims of her awesomeness, I could make declarations of her unmeasurable worth. They would all be true. But she isn't better than your mum. She isn't better than you. She's a human woman who chose to push 3 wild children into the world. All with the support of a fantastic gentleman who I call my dad. I find myself prefacing and apologizing for it at times. ("Don't mind me, I'm a product of a two parent household!") The way I was raised isn't "better" than you, although it may have definitely been more privileged than you. It wasn't perfect, and bad things happened. And yes, at times, I held those bad things in as secrets and didn't allow my mother to be a part of them. In fact, there are trials in my life that I haven't shared with her. I've rocked myself, bathed myself and practiced self care until I healed all on my own. The fact that I was able to do this had a lot to do with her and what she taught me by example. But she wasn't there for everything. How could she be? She isn't a superhero. She's just a woman. A good one. She made her choices, decided to read certain books, raised us in the church and I got a swat or two on my behind. She's lost her temper, she's let words fall out of her mouth that weren't chosen as carefully as she would have liked, she's taken another side than mine more than once. In all honesty, my mother and I differ in opinion a lot. She isn't always my champion. She hates my tattoos, she wishes I would come back to God, I'm sure she wishes I wasn't so brash and vocal about my feminism. She wishes I didn't swear so much or have endless arguments with my father about the state of the world at Xmas dinner. She wishes I said Christmas instead of Xmas. If I ever have kids, I know she will ache when I say "no" to church until they are the age of consent.
In short, my mother is a real woman. There is no pre-requisite to complete to be that. My mother is a mother. There is no pre-requisite to be that. Not even having a functional uterus. She did however, step up to the plate more than 3 times to be there for another human. She took in troubled friends of ours, she sat for hours comforting other mother's children when they couldn't share their pain with their own mothers. Just as other mothers have done the same for me. Every woman in my life, good or ill, has shaped me. My mother played the largest role. And for that I am eternally grateful. I am not being hyperbolic. I will swell with problematic pride for her until my energy stops bouncing off the atmosphere.
I will not glorify her, I will not compare her anymore to anyone else's mother.
I am lucky. I am privileged. My mother is still alive. I can still talk to her. I can still make the choice what I share with her and dread the day I no longer have that choice.
I have made the choice to not be a mother. More than once. It's not a permanent one, just one I have continued to make so far. I've had other work to do. Guess who has never scolded, guilted me or judged me for that? Yup, you guessed it. She hasn't. That is not to say I don't mother. I practice what my mother has taught me everyday. The listening. The sitting. The worrying. The supporting. I've gone to bat many times for many of you, without a second thought. I will again. I'll be screaming "hold me back!" as I come at whoever has hurt many of you. I won't stop.
Mother's are everywhere. They are male, female, non-binary. They are mothers. They give birth to you, they watch your birth, or they meet you somewhere along the way and sit with you, listen to you, support you, and worry worry worry.
To ALL my mother's: you are valued. To ALL who have lost a few of their mothers: you are not alone.
To the woman who birthed me and raised me: I'm glad you're here. You hold your own title. To which there is no comparison.
No contest.
Love: g
No comments:
Post a Comment