I’m My Own Superhero
6 year old: No, I will keep it on. But what superhero am I?
Me: Super Sophie
6 year old: (smiles wide) Super Sophie
6 year old: No, I will keep it on. But what superhero am I?
Me: Super Sophie
6 year old: (smiles wide) Super Sophie
Being black, brown, and/or Hispanic looks, sounds, and feels different depending on where you grew up, who raised you, and the perception of your local peers. But we, as guardians, are tasked with helping our daughters survive and thrive during the at times arduous journey from girl to woman.
My husband and I have had our son’s consent talk ready. He’s only 4, so we believe we have some time before needing to have the talk, but I expect it to go something like this:
“Homie, if it’s not yes, it’s no. If it is yes, it still maybe no. If the person can’t say yes/no, it’s always no. This is still true even if she’s your wife, it seems complicated but it’s not.
“My motherhood looks different from yours.”
This is the hard conversation(s) I had to have with my mother. It happened over time. Softly. Peacefully. Harshly. Angrily. In hush tones while the baby was sleeping. Satirically, while the toddler was playing. Seriously, while I dressed her for her first day of school
I’ve been doing this mom thing the past 3.5 hours alone and I feel this rage bubbling deep within my mind and spirit.
I’ve been dreading this day. The time when the kids are old enough to choose and give me gifts. The time when I must lovingly deceive them with smiles and superfluous gratitude for random items very likely constructed in sweat shops by underpaid workers with unsustainable (and possibly toxic) raw materials!