This plus a million other things are what occupy a mothers physical doings on a daily basis. You know, the outward stuff. The child wrangling, snuggling, kissing a boo-boo, shuffling in the door with crazy toddler, bags and bags of stuff falling off your arms, and infant carrier with baby in tow. It's what people see on the outside. The mom
What you don't see, is the part of motherhood that's going on inside their mind, behind the scenes. The deep worries and thoughts of what will this world look like for my children. Am I doing this right and equipping them with all the tools to handle it all. Or, for me, the fact that raising girls is scary, downright scary, in a very male dominated world. Will my daughters know their amazing potential? Will I do enough to teach them and show them and raise them to be confident women, knowing that they have just as much to contribute to this life as anyone else (or more). Will they see themselves beyond what the world tells us women should be, beyond the sex-selling and that women are only good for a romantic scene in a movie, or just to be pursued by a man. Will they know that they're valuable, and more precious than the rarest gem? Am I doing enough to raise them to hate injustice, speak up for what's wrong, and love those who seem unloveable? Am I being a living example of this?
Take a breath.
This is deep, y'all.
I felt the heavy burden of raising girls from the time Eme was just a few days old. I was sitting in the corner chair of her nursery, feeding her, staring at her tiny lashes--when tears started falling down my face. I couldn't help, in that moment, to feel the weight of the world for her. Call it postpartum hormones, maybe, but it's still there. It's deep in my chest always, it sits there, every day. I thought about the trials and pains she will inevitably go through. The hurts that I can't always spare her. The fact that I'm bringing her up in what is a very-much male dominated society, where men are still more privileged than women. Ouch.
There's no denying that fact. It's the truth. No matter how far (collective) we feel we've come, it's not far enough. Remove the blinders and take a look around. It's clear as day.
I want so many things for my girls. But mainly, I want them to feel the fire that's within them and not be afraid to show it. Be passionate and strong. Go against the flow sometimes, often times. You are more than what Disney Movies tell you about being a female, so much more. To be confident and bold in who you know you are, at your core. And believe that what the world tells about girls...about females, and who we 'should' be is NOT all that you can be. Not even close.
You are more than just a little girl who twirls around in a dress and a tiara. You can go against stereotypes. You can be exactly the person God made you to be, my daughters.
Dream big. Think big. Momma's always rooting for you.
This is an area I'm deeply, deeply passionate about. I've written about it many times, but have never published any of my writings--they sit in my drafts. I'm digging deep this morning, trying to figure out just why I struggle to publish them. Am I afraid of being judged? Will I look extreme? Will mothers of boys think this has something to do with them? (It doesn't, not even a tiny bit) Then I realize by not posting about it, by not being honest with myself, I'm not living by example.
I was inspired by this post to finally just take a second and let out some of the thoughts in my head about this. It's merely scratching the surface of what lies really deep in my heart--but it's good for now. Any step forward is a good step, I tell myself.
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