The Women who raised me are warriors.
Not the loud brash kind, the ones with softness and strength.
When they speak the whole room listens intently because they command respect and silence. They are creatives who are accomplished in their own right, man beside them or not. They are beacons of self-love and independence and have never let me falter. Only took me in their arms as a child, and watched me from the stage. A woman of 20, now looking out to the crowd where they’re applauding.
It started with my mother, who brought me to this earth. Before she even thought of me, she knew me and loved me. As I took root in the earth she was always encouraging me to reach beyond the stars and speak my mind when I had been talked down too. Taught me how to slay the dragons that never knew that neurodivergent in my soul was not to be ignored, despite my academic success.
I was a poster child on a pedestal.
The kid the teachers put next to “problems”, mainly the hyperactive boys who like me were misunderstood. My mother knew unlike them, that my good social graces and innate desire for perfection did nothing to mask my adhd and social anxiety. She jump started my voice and amplified me until I could advocate my way through my academic instructions.
Behind her my grandmother, a caretaker with a kindness that never ceases. The true powerhouse and heart of my family. Who from the beginnings of my life instilled in me my spirituality and the drive and desire to help those in need. I chatted with the church ladies, gave communion to the sick, old, and bedridden. I fed those in mourning and set tables at their luncheons. I always know that no matter what day I’ve been having, my grandma’s house is always down the street, with a calico cat to greet me by the door. I can only hope that 86 I can have the strength she holds.
My educators and mentors, sharing with me opportunities and being a safe place to discuss my passions and share writing with. Who listened to me discuss my friendship and mental health struggles after school had let out for a day. The fact that they are still reaching out and attending my events, despite it being years since I’ve stepped foot in their classrooms. My love of learning has grown from them. They kept me in school through my lowest moments and never insulted me like those closer to my age did. I suppose that is the price to pay. That is, being seen as an old soul or “suck up”. These women have nurtured me and my interests since i’ve known them and in another lifetime, I would have happily joined them in the education field. Though I do try to be a leader for those I reach, that they can look up to.
I could go on forever, and I haven’t even discussed the young women growing beside me. My treasured friends and group mates who have supported me as I’ve laughed and cried and struggled to get where I am today. They have seen me at all stages and they truly deserve the world.
All of them do.
I can only hope through my life I can honor these women, while finding some power of my own, I owe them so much and love them dearly. They will be my guides as I continue on my life journey.