My cyberstalker is my mother — but it wasn’t always this way.
I am willing to spend time with her — if she's not smoking around my son or me. (Artwork: Tess Emily Rodriguez)
I am willing to spend time with her — if she's not smoking around my son or me.
I went to pack our things and caught my mom ruffling through my toiletries bag. (Artwork: Tess Emily Rodriguez)
When we got home my wife was unpacking our bags and noticed the condoms we keep in the toiletries bag looked weird.
Did my mom feel alone, as if she were blamed for what happened to her? Like nobody could understand what she was dealing with?
When my mom died, I made a list of things that made me similar to her: My favorite color was purple, I liked to write, I loved reading, I adored cats, I didn’t wear makeup, my favorite soda was Pepsi, I lived in oversized sweaters. I was 11, so I didn’t add “I love to drink” to the list, but it crosses my mind now whenever I’m at a bar with friends, and I decide to order a cocktail.
My mother and I may never see eye to eye on politics, and our value systems may seldom align. Sometimes it feels like we try to breach this divide; other times we dig a deeper rift.
My mom and I are extremely close. Some would say we’re a little too close, but since she fills two roles in my life — mother and best friend — I think it’s fair that she get a double slice of my love and attention. I was completely devastated when she announced that she was moving to Dubai. But now, my mother has lived abroad for more than two years, and I can see that her move was a good thing.
I find myself in this place again. I am numb. I feel empty. I almost have no words.
In 2012, around the time of the birth of my son, I had a similar feeling. Trayvon Martin was killed. I was pregnant with a black male in a world that was not ready for him.
Back in my early twenties, I struggled financially. But more so in that much-mocked Millennial quest of “finding myself,” I made a number of questionable decisions.
The plan was to write full-time. With all the kids in school, this is the first opportunity I will have to come close to achieving that goal. Image: Thinkstock.
I’m not saying having children doesn’t change things. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t reevaluate our life choices as we build our families. What I AM saying is that we must stop hinting to cisgender women that once they’ve had kids, their lives are laid out for them.
If you’re anything like me, you probably feel like a terrible parent because you’re not totally head-over-heels for your baby. Image: Thinkstock.
With every 2 AM wakeup cry and biohazard diaper blowout, I waited for that all-consuming love that everyone had promised me, but all I found was exhaustion, frustration, and confusion. All my girlfriends were posting on Facebook about how beautiful their newborns were, how their hearts were bursting with love, and how they had felt an instant connection. So what was wrong with me?