Mama Says

Listen, “ladies”, if we’re ever going to get our due, we have to go get it. No one is going to hand it to us, and it will be worth it. And while I feel that every woman should have the chance to speak her mind and take what’s hers, I realize that not all women have this opportunity; we must go above and beyond to speak for them as well. We are the lucky ones, the ones that can speak, that may be heard, and that live the lives we want without fear of persecution.

This is going to require a few measures that might be uncomfortable for some, but for women to get what they want in the world, we have to step out of our comfort zones. We have to push to the front, be louder than men, and stop being “ladies” when it comes to what we want. Ladies don’t make history - ladies are history.  

So quit cutting eachother down. Don’t like what someone’s wearing? Too bad. She’s your comrade - shut your mouth. Think that women suck to work with? We all suck to work with, men and women. But we can all make this better. We have to start with ourselves.

Women, put up and shut up. If you “don’t like other women”, I don’t want to hear about it. That’s not getting us anywhere. A gender divided doesn’t get respect. 

M: Today I learned that Isaac Newton died a virgin.

Me: Damn, think how smart I could have been! 

M: I could have… Wasted 12 years on World of Warcraft. Oh, wait… 

Someone recently took issue with the fact that I describe myself as a “Single Mama”, because, apparently, it’s not a hardship for me. 

Really? I get that I have more support than anyone could have the right to ask for. I get that I have a loving partner that does everything he can to support me and my child. And my child has the most amazing father - you’re right. I’m the luckiest single Mama ever.

You know what is a hardship? Not kissing my daughter every night before she goes to sleep. Not holding her every minute that she’s sick. Sending her away, and knowing that it will be like this for the rest of her life. Did I make that choice? Yes. Was it the right one? Yes. Does my heart still ache every minute she’s with her Daddy? For damn sure.

Everyone’s battle is different. Mine is personal, so don’t judge it. 

I honestly don’t believe you owe your parents a damn thing for raising you. That’s their job. They (whether planned or not) conceived a child, and now have the responsibility of providing for your basic needs, with a minimum expectation of guidance, support and affection. However, even if you’re not given all of the above, there is one thing they don’t deserve: to bury you.

That’s all I’m asking. Make decisions that result in you burying your parents, no matter your age. Funerals for the young have peppered my life lately, and I find myself more often than not taking on the perspective of their parents; how do you go on? I don’t know, and I hope I never do. But I do know that I’ll do the best in my power to make sure my own parents never find out. I owe them that.

Here’s the deal about free speech, kids: That’s all it entitles you to. The freedom to say what you want. It doesn’t take away everyone else’s right to be offended or think you’re a dumbass. 

Lately, my silly little lady-body has decided that it wants to undergo all sorts of  fun changes that are semi-reminiscent of ages 12-17. Here’s why: I started a new birth control pill (I know! For shame!) to regulate some “issues” that were going on, and within two weeks (two weeks!!) I put on ten pounds (ten pounds!).

But here’s the deal: I don’t care. This is new to me, too. I may have been fairly attractive at my “goal” weight, but honestly, I didn’t look like what I consider to be “womanly”. I didn’t mind, clothes fit great, but then… Boobs. And ass. And ass and boobs. A slightly curvier silhouette with a little extra something has made me feel like a whole new person. Sure, I closed myself out of an entire pants size, but the next size up looks great. You know why? Ass. Had to buy all new bras (Woohoo!) and they look and feel amazing! I’m ok with this! And shirts… They fit. Nicely. And as an added bonus? My partner loves it. I’ll admit… That helps.

Moral of the story: ten pounds doesn’t make or break who you are. It’s all in how you look at it. And this is coming from possibly the most body-conscious person I know. Ordinarily I would have lost it (and the pill and the weight) by now, but I’m all about moving forward and moving on - and being a curvy girl from here on out.

“Fat bottom girls, you make the rockin’ world go round!”