motherhood

I got married young and had my first child young.

Feeling sexy in a body my culture deems unsexy, while also believing that body should dutifully service someone else’s pleasure doesn’t make me want to slip on a silk teddy and give it the old college try.

The girls had their first night at dance class last week.

Being a parent isn’t everything.

There’s nothing wrong with moms who decide to go for a stereotypical “mom cut.” If they like it, or if it makes their lives easier, that’s fantastic. Personally, my hair after I had children remained just as important to me as it was before I had them. My hair has always been a huge part of my identity — candy-colored, funky, and so totally me.

I went to the premiere of Bad Moms last week. I might have peed my pants during the movie and it took about two days until my face stopped hurting. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. (Okay, fine. There’s no “might have.” I did pee my pants. So what?)

We been made to fear that should we complain, lest it might be snatched from us, should we for even a moment wish we hadn't done this. Some sort of universal karma. A punishment for your lack of gratitude.

To blame [my mother] for all parts of me that are broken wouldn't be kind. She isn't responsible for who I am today. That said, on a subconscious level, I am the mother I am because of the mother I had.