To my mother-

My mom taught me what

patience looks like.

That fight or flight isn’t

always an option and

that standing your ground

even quietly

is still honoring yourself.

She always made sure I

valued everything I had

and appreciated still moments

and the company of myself.

She showed me that being

pretty and privileged

deserved my own sense of

modesty but with an assertiveness

and presence that demanded I

knew how to flatter and withdraw

from compliments and advances

simultaneously.

She taught me to be direct

and clear about what I want

otherwise people would only

choose for me.

“Don’t put your elbows on the table”

“Chin up”

“A daisy and I thought of you…”

“The world doesn’t owe you anything.”

When I went through my first

serious “life changing moment”

at 17,

she taught me

not to be a victim.

She showed me vulnerability

wasn’t weakness but in fact,

quite the opposite.

When I would call in tears

asking how to move forward

she’d say, “just do it baby!”

As an adult, I think the

most important lessons

she’s taught me

are about love.

My parents love has never

has never been perfect,

as none is, with a series

of almost crumbling moments.

But she showed me that love

is meant to be fought for,

that falling in love

is the easy part

and that sometimes “fighting”

means giving up,

so that you can take care

of yourself first.

I know how lonely we

all feel sometimes, but I learned

that when lonely,

I was only searching for myself.

I learned that home wasn’t always

a house with 4 walls,

but sometimes,

it’s a person.

My mom has always

been “home”

to my father,

my brother,

and I.

She has kept the balance

in the family

when there was chaos.

She has chose positivity

instead of negativity

while the rest of us

wavered.

And she has snapped

with kindness

and a fire in her eyes

like that of an alpha female

when her pack and cubs

were negligent

with their emotions

love

time

or peace.

I only know the strength and

ferocity and love of a mother

by watching my own.

And although I do not have

the motherly instinct

or desire for motherhood

I am a better damn woman

by learning how to harness

all that is feminine about me

with class but

also with a rage that says,

“don’t fuck with me because

I come from a long line of

women that didn’t shut up

or stand down

or be quiet.”

And I am not here to be ignored,

I am here to be understood.

I thank my mother for that.

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I didn’t think I’d be this girl

I didn’t always think I’d be this girl.

I had this idea of constant evolution

which we are, aren’t we?

Constantly evolving?

I thought I’d eventually evolve into

the person I was meant to be,

leaving behind all the pain.

Thinking the unfinished business

would turn itself into eventual awareness.

Not realizing that I had to do the work.

Not realizing that happiness has to be maintained.

It isn’t a state of arrival where

you coast once you’re there.

There is no finish line.

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Love her anyways.

She captivates you. She fills you up and she frustrates you. How does she do that? How is something so beautiful so infuriating simultaneously? How can she be both at the same time? It’s too intense sometimes, the range of emotions. Her touch lingers on your skin long after she removes her fingers from your thigh.¬†And those eyes! Those eyes that say so much pain still exists in the world, but that shine with a brightness that knows how to heal it.

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Understanding

Last night we fought

again.

How can we not fight?

When there’s so much love there

that it yanks me out of my comfort zone,

when every inch of my being couldn’t

love you any more

than I already do.

When we fight and I scream

because I’m overwhelmed

because sometimes

we don’t understand eachother.

We are so stubborn

the two of us,

that it could shake worlds apart

like I’m being torn from my own body.

Loving you is

all of the emotions I’ve ever had

coming to me all at once.

And when I collapse

on the sidewalk

in your arms,

it’s not because I’m angry.

It’s because

i’m not used to

not being in control

of my emotions.

You leave me speechless.

When we misunderstand eachother

whether culturally,

emotionally,

spiritually,

my soul breaks with

the misunderstanding.

Because it is so important to me,

to us,

to be understood.

That when we’re not,

it tears us apart

like the universe

is eating us whole.

Understanding will take us time.

But I can promise you

that I’ll fight alongside you.

Because we’re warriors baby,

and nothing is more tragic

than regret.