A random rambling…a journal entry, if you will.

Having a stoner moment… in my thoughts. Profound love for my mom right now. As I’m getting older, just seeing firsthand the struggle it is just to be a woman… a single black woman, its HARD. It’s a battle with ourselves; our minds. Its a battle with our bodies and the changes IT goes through. A battle with other women (women, ironically that are going through the same battles). And, I’m sorry to have to say, its a battle with men, if we’re not careful and prepared.

Now… I’m sitting here actually on the couch talking on the phone with my Gma when the topic of my rowdy adolescent days came up. I was an asshole, for sure. Hardheaded, according to my Gma, here. Anyway… as funny as life goes, my mom ends up calling her other line just as we were talking about this and just as I was beginning to sit back and think just how appreciative I feel for having her. Weird.

Okay so back on track, (as much as I can be on track lol) I was just taking some time to think about how much harder things must have been back in ’89. Without a lot of the resources we have now, without the life experience, she REALLY did manage things. And well. My mom is sane lol. She is strong. Reserved. Smart- suspiciously-might-be-an-alien, smart. My mom is just… I don’t know, but you just KNOW how we feel about our moms. No matter what the circumstances, no matter what we tell ourselves we “would have done better/different”… that love you have, you know it.

I’m feeling it.

Thirty and sixteen boy, A LOT happens between then and a lot changes, especially with your mental. Then? Tuh… I was “in love” and I just knew that I knew better than she did- about EVERYTHING. Gave her a hard time… But we dealt, and I see her. And I respect her. I’m way older than she was when she had me… and LOL, life WITHOUT a kid is hard. So I cant begin to imagine her struggles and what it took to get her through them. I’m glad she did. I’m glad to have her. Glad to take after her.

But that’s all out of me. I was just feeling a NEED to write… its like popping a zit, or finally hitting that itch in your back you took a while to reach. Just a need to humbly get this out.

K, bye.

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