here today

 

scorpio moon

vanessa sucked in her breath at this point in the reading. that scorpio moon, she said.

the moon rules the Mother Archetype. You will experience your mother this way, or carry that energy for her. other women you attract might also have this energy. this is powerful. an intense link.

there is death and rebirth here. a periodic emotional cleansing.

3 days later mother, my mother, the carrier of scorpio energy was back in the hospital, her heart racing one hundred ninety beats per minute, skipping ahead towards death it was stopped cold by beta blockers and when I heard that I remembered psychopharm god I wish I had beta blockers right now I thought damnn scorpio moon. damn mother mine.

the vagina shaman sees unfinished business there no shit I said and we laughed but then I cried.

dear mom, I wrote, this morning. dear mom I am glad you are home again, temporarily safe.

dear mom, I wrote, dear moon, i wrote:

Mom: I am writing to you because I find it hard to speak.

And it is because I find it hard to speak that I am writing to you.

I am ready for motherhood myself but the idea of what it means to be a mother stops me.

So I am reaching out to say some things to you that you have not heard from me. And my request is only that you hear them. They might not feel right or true to you, they might not even at first make it past the wall that you will quickly build to keep them out. Words are scary, often, so I will try my best to make these words only about me and hopefully you can then at least peek out over the wall to see what I am saying.

I have felt, from childhood, that who I am is not okay. I have felt pressure to try to be someone that better fits with your ideas of personhood. I have kept quiet, mostly, kept hidden, tried to be invisible. You said to me once that I was the child you did not have to think about and it is because that was my intent growing up.

I do not want that experience for my child. So I need to be able to model something different – show my child how to take up space and not be afraid to reach out their hands and heart. With that intention, I am learning to say out loud who I am. I do that in most areas of my life now, more or less.

But I still hesitate to do it with you. I still fear disapproval and judging. Judging that might never come, but my fear runs very deep.

I have reacted to this fear by pulling back further away from you. When I visit, I try to ask many questions about your life and keep talk of mine to a minimum, keep my life separate and therefore safe from disapproval. I seem to have two choices at this point – continue on that path of distance, or be wholly present as myself when I see you.

Or perhaps both.

I could write a similar letter to dad, but this is specific to motherhood and what mothering means to me, has meant, will hopefully mean. You are my mother, I hope to be someone’s mother – and it is a complicated and amazing job to consider. My application is filled with hope and worry and even fear. The hope is that I can always be honest – honest about my mistakes, my regrets, my own ideas of what kind of child I want. The worry is that I have started on all of this too late. The fear is that I will not be able to parent with love and grace and embrace my child no matter who they are – who they become and a piece of that, of course, is that I first need to approach my own self with love, grace and acceptance.

That, for me, begins here. I forgive myself for experiencing my daughterhood as a set of rules that must be followed. Rule number one was that I should not cause any trouble – there was enough trouble already. I accept that I find it hard to share my feelings, thoughts, fears, ideas with people – even people outside my family. I decided when I was very young to hide them, and it is a hard lesson to unlearn. I understand that it has taken me nearly 38 years to say to you that I would like a different kind of relationship –– also, that I do not know really what that means other than beginning with this letter.

Thank you for reading this. I love you very much.

Posted by: 120pages at 09:20 | link | comments (2) |