I am my mother's child.
I am stubborn.
I (mostly) consider what I'm going to say before I say it.
I have worked too hard and played too little.
I have cried when things got to be too much.
I cry when I'm angry.
I only reveal it all to certain beloveds.
I raise my eyebrow at people.
I am scared of thunderstorms.
My mother has not always been who I wanted her to be.
She wasn't always there. (She didn't know how.)
She doesn't know how to emotionally connect.
She's so far away.
I have learned from her.
I have cried with her.
I have been with her during surgeries and near-deaths.
I have seen her give of herself again and again.
I have seen how I want to do things differently.
I know her choices have been the best she could have made.
At the time.
I am stronger for so much of it.
I am also broken in ways that I am still trying to mend.
I love my mom.
I miss being able to drive over to her house.
But distance is kinder.
Perspective is wiser.
I celebrate her.
In all of her flaws.
Because I have some of them.
Someday, I hope to be a mom too.
And it's because of her that I don't feel rushed.
That (sometimes) I feel ready.
Because of her love,
In all of its twists and turns,
I am the woman I am,
And continue to become.
"Forged in Flame: Creating a Reclaiming Beltane Ritual" - Creating Ritual issue of Witches and Pagans