The most beautiful thing I have ever seen in this world is my children. That’s not to say I have beautiful babies, although I believe I do. It’s more because I look at them every day and realize what a beautiful thing I have done. Just for clarity, yes, I am aware that hoth my husband and I made these babies possible, but this is my blog, and I am talking about me and my feelings. Therefore, I use ‘I’ speaking from my experience.
Side note. I think it’s absurd that we have now found ourselves in a position where we need to clarify every single word that comes out of our mouths as not to offend anyone because they seem to lack logic and common sense but I digress, for now.
Through all of my fuck ups, mix ups, and mess ups I have been brought to moments where an absolute miracle chose to use me as a vessel to enter a world undeserving of their presence. There are some people who believe that bringing children into this world is selfish, and when you sit down and actually consider the argument, it’s true. But it’s a selfish that I will never regret. It is a selfish that I will always protect. I say all the time that I never wanted children, but I suppose that’s not entirely true. It’s not that I didn’t want them. It’s just that I never actually considered them. I was young and smart. Graduated high school in 1996, 2 years before my time, though if I’m being fully honest, I got it through a community college. I actually dropped out of high school. I opted to take the test to graduate out, and I passed. I went to college in Philadelphia on the fast tract to law school. I mean, I had 6-8 classes at a time, and I stayed just above the c average. Low B but a B nonetheless. I was working 2 jobs and living my life in hustle mode. I loved it. I stayed out of trouble because, let’s face it, I never really had time to get into it. I was meeting new people and really enjoying my life.
I got mixed up with some dude who meant me no good. I eventually went on the run pregnant to get away from him. Here I was, a college dropout, trying to be somebody’s mother. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I never really paid that much attention to the way my mother gracefully raised us, so I was just lost. Ultimately, I felt like a disappointment to my mom, so I never went home for help. This led to bouts of homelessness, stripping, staying with strangers, and even having sex for money just to stay afloat. When my son was about 4, I finally went home. My bonus dad got me a car and a house, and things were starting to get back on track. I met a nice guy who said he only wanted to be friends, but I know he was lying to himself because he spent every moment he could in my presence. He didn’t want to be a dad, much less a stepdad, and that was his hiccup. But I enjoyed his company and his integrity. He never pushed for sex or anything more than time with me.
Eventually I fucked this life up too by getting tripped up in believing I should move again. See, the thing about me is I am damn near a gypsy. I can never manage to stay in one place too long. I just have to change. I kind of liked that, though, because it allowed me to explore more than my own backyard. By the age of 25, I had lived in 6 different states. That’s not including my childhood where I was not only a military brat but also how I learned my gypsy ways from my mother herself. She was my idol. I never understood how she did it all and always remained so poised and elegant. She went through some shit with my stepdad, but that’s not my story. I love him. He passed away, but man, did he really love me. ❤️
I wound up in Atlanta. I met a dumb ass guy who I got pregnant by. God, he was an ass. But he gave me my first beautiful baby girl. Madison. I swear I never had an easier baby in my life. She passed away, which ultimately led to our divorce, but I cherish every moment of her. He was REALLY an ass. In Atlanta, I found my groove. My mom used to always say that Atlanta is where black people go to get ahead and she is not lying. I landed a contract with an urgent care center immediately, which led to several other medical contracts. I was a master biller and strategist.
Leaving a lot of the story out for now, Madison’s death led me to South Carolina, where I met my husband, and we went on to have a plethora of children. I still get a lot wrong, and boy, do I have my bad days, but they are always what keep me going. Even on days when it’s really dark and hard. Although they can cause many of these days because, well, they’re kids, I always look at them and smile. Not when they’re mad at me, though, because I don’t want them to think that I’m a punk. But knowing that i created something so marvelous and perfect gives me a reason to be reminded that I am needed. And wanted. I thank God for that every day. I wake up and hug them and tell them thank you. Thank you for choosing me. They keep me grounded.