A Reminder…

When my daughter looks at me, I want her to be in awe of how a woman so carefree, so loving, so happy and determined gets to raise her. I want her to see me breakdown and pick myself up again. I never want her to think that being a black woman is just another euphemism for strong, that love needs to be laboured for it to mean something or that struggle should be a tagline for her to be worthy of her praises.

There were times when I daydreamed about the kind of mother I would be and I wondered if my daughter would ever find solace in my presence. I worried about whether my traumatic past would be a burden that would weigh heavier on her unknowing shoulders and I would sometimes weep at the thought of bringing a life to bear witness to all that I felt was dreadful about me. Yet, here I am now and I get to witness this incredibly put together woman (scars and all) mothering this almost 8 month old girl and I am astonished. I get a chance to do this my way. She gets the best parts of me and I couldn’t be happier.

This is what I thought of when our helper commented about how my daughter is spoiled just because I find humour in her little teeth biting me and when she laughs when I tell her to stop biting me. Apparently, I should shout at her to instill fear so that she stops doing it again. I ought to be stern with her to discipline her is what she continued to say to me when I objected to her suggestions. I would never raise my voice at my daughter. Her father and I decided long before she was born that we would never raise our voices when talking to our daughter; I watch and correct anyone who does this to her. I’ve never understood the notion of shouting at babies who don’t even understand the why behind the reaction.

There are some traumas from my childhood that stem from how adults around me expressed their displeasure with me. In hindsight, I wish there had been someone who was kinder and was able to explain to me why I shouldn’t have done certain prohibited things instead of being shouted at or gotten a beating while not knowing the lesson. I vowed to find alternative solutions to parenting my child/ren, to always teach them the lesson and explain why we ought to do things a certain way. I was met with some contemptuous ridicule at home when I downright said that I don’t want anyone raising their voice to my daughter.

More than anything, I feel as though I can’t teach my daughter lessons on being kind, compassionate and respectful to herself and others if I do not lead by example. I ought to treat her like a human in her own right as she grows into herself with each passing moment. Seeing her doesn’t start when she’s a teenager and grappling with the many troubles that the world may bring to her. It starts now; when she is learning to stand on her own, when she doesn’t like the food I make for her today, when she gives me wet kisses and pushes me away when I try to bite her chubby cheeks.

I will always try my best to ensure that in future she never looks back and wishes that I had been a kinder, loving and more playful mom. I need her to drown in my presence and to walk tall knowing that this mom; who is black, loving, kind, weak at times, carefree and who laughs from her belly is the best woman who ever loved her unconditionally.

2 thoughts on “A Reminder…

  1. She must be raised with the understanding that respected and respectful is the only way for human beings to deal with each other.She cannot in her adulthood assert something that is foreign to her.
    A respectful tone and approach is key.

    I appreciate your foresight♥️

    Liked by 2 people

    1. She will treat people with kindness and compassion because it is what she will know.
      Thank you for taking the time to read♥️

      Like

Leave a Reply

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s