Happy Mothers Day

Dear Mom

Please don’t be mad at me

and I wont be mad at you

I love you with every word I write

and I sing your odes of praise with every breath.

I’d like to thank you for your body

but I can’t.

I’d like to sing the praises of my thighs and the curve of my hips

but you never taught me those songs.

I learned other songs. Louder songs. The pulsing drumbeat of fictitious beauty I saw in all of the magazines and catalogs and movies and Barbie dolls.

I learned the songs of my slender youth. The songs that sang of constant slender. The songs that sang my praise for being blessed with my daddy’s legs.

Does Mother Nature wish me to join her and you and the rest of the mothers? Is that why she exchanged Daddy’s legs for yours? Is that why she gave me the hips you so often tried to diminish? Those hips of joy with the birth of your three children. THose hips that over-stayed their welcome and never got your hints to leave when the birthing party was over.

I want no part of those celebrations. I want only to once again hear the songs of praise that the crowds sing out.

The songs that sing of slender thighs and narrow hips.

The songs that see beauty in frailty.

Those songs that ignore the beautiful combination of softness and strength I have hidden just below my skin between my womanhood and my knees.

I inherited a powerhouse from you, Mom.

But, only learned how to tear it down and not how to build it up.

So each night when I go to sleep I think of ways to remodel the powerhouse of perfect femininity that I’ve learned to loathe.

Because the only songs my thighs here are battle cries for their destruction.

But they falter not. No matter what I throw at them they smile and laugh right back at me.

Generations of strength are stored in my hips and will not die off without teaching me all the lessons of my mothers’ mothers’ mothers.

I remember watching your battles and fights and tantrums at your thighs. I learned that language and those songs.

But, on this Mothers’ Day, I want to learn a new song. A new song for you and for me.

A song of love.

I sing it for you daily.

You sing it for me hourly.

I sing it for me rarely.

You sing it for you sparsely.

Can we sing it together and learn to play the song on our instruments

brand new

with love

Thank you for my thighs.

Thank you for my battles.

Thank you for my songs.

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About heathencomehome

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