How deep are you willing to go?

"Hey ma, you good?"

As kids, sometimes we do not always understand what caused our parents to be who they are or why they do the things that they do. Getting older has brought me to a remarkably interesting perspective about the relationship I have with my mother and father but, I will leave my dad for another day. Today I choose to acknowledge the woman who raised me. See, I started this series out with this plant because I am lacking the ability to nurture my emotions in a healthy way at times. You get tired of being tired and you get tired of ignoring the reasons why you have had to put yourself on the back burner for so long. My mother is an amazing individual and I do not just say that because she is the person who birthed me but, because I see her. We sometimes fail to see our parents as individuals prior to raising us. I could tell from maybe the age of 11 to 12 that something was not right about the dynamic of my mother and father. Id wish for anything to see my mother see herself and the way she has sacrificed her life to please a man that did little to nothing for her or her children. You must question, how was one raised to be able to endure pain and give love to a person who in my eyes never loved her back? It is easy; You start with the ones who spoke love into her or the ones who did not. I am sure my mother was loved but, we all know that at times the love we think we give is not always the healthiest; especially if you were raised in a black family during the 60's. My mother is a twin and as time went by observing her and trying to understand who she is, I do not think she was the twin who received an equal amount of love and attention. I have people in my family that assume that an effect can happen with no cause and so most times, instead of pausing for a second and asking a person "how are you?" they go off of who they know you to be. I do not understand that way of dealing with people. Sure, we all have our implicit bias because of our experiences and social conditioning but, as a loved one to another loved one, wouldn't you care to know more about the individuals who you say you love? How sure could you be that you know exactly who this individual is? You could never if you never took the time to look deeper. People change and people have different coping mechanisms when it comes to dealing with trauma and their self-esteem and lack of identity. So, I am sure many had an idea of who my mother is or was but, did they understand her? I do not believe so. The reason this has daunted on me for some time now is because well my mother is not the same woman she once was. Most of my pre-teen life I have had to live with a mother who did not choose herself or her health over others. Leading to her physical debilitating state currently. As a growing black girl and now woman in America, not having that immediate visual of self-love being displayed has hurt me in more ways than I can count. I spoke to my best friend one day over some wings and I broke down. I see the way people treat my mother and do you know how much of a difference it probably would have made if my mother had someone ask her how she was doing? I do not mean the casual "how are you?" followed up by an uncomfortable I am good. The "I am good" will always satisfy the ones who did not genuinely care or who could not see through your misty eyes and could hear the cracks in your voice. I mean the real "hey girl, I see you are not ok, tell me what's going on." You see, except for a few close individuals; many do not even ask me if I am ok. We are a part of a culture that may see and listen but, does not hear and feel. I pretty much grew up not even feeling comfortable being sad or depressed. God forbid you felt these things. You were definitely better off suffering in silence. It is so unbelievable in my community that with all that we face in the outside world let alone in our personal lives that for fuck sake, maybe some of us are having a hard time dealing with it. Am I weak because the pressures of the world and family heavily fall on my shoulders? That's what it feels like at times...

 I mean I did not sign up for any of this shit but, I take it. I hide it. I resent it. It festers because ultimately this is my baggage to carry, whether I asked for it or not. Black generational trauma moves with you like an infectious disease, ready to infect every part of your life and others. So here I am, with the inability to feel anything real at times that directly affects me. It is easier to speak on the woes of the world than the things eating me up inside and honestly, it felt like I was in control up until recently. Imagine the emotional ignorance that comes with thinking that because you can hide how you feel well, that somehow you are stronger and more evolved than the next. Jokes on me. I have cried more times in the last 5 days than I have in the last 10 to 11 months. I am removing the shield that has weighed me down and it scares me because now I am vulnerable. My heart and my mind are open, ready to admit that I have not been doing this shit the right way but, it is my job to take accountability for it and break the cycle. My mother is so important to how I see myself because I have started to develop these characteristics that I believe would have saved her from my dad and her inner turmoil. The only thing is it is not healthy. Playing hard ball and using defense mechanisms does not mean I am saving myself from hurt and pain. If anything, it keeps me from experiencing real love and happiness. I learned how to keep my darkness from bubbling to the surface but trust me, what is done in the dark will always come to light, at least that's what my mother would say. So, I strive to be more aware about knowing this about myself and the ways it plays out in relationships amongst myself and others. I have made it a goal to commit to this healing work no matter how hard it might be. Yet, this part of the series does not end here; at least this story of my mother and how seeing her has caused me to see me. It just poses the question...

"How are you doing today?" ...