Category: black mothers

Three Little Black Girls

I wish to friend, understand and play with the little girls who came before me. I want to know what they dreamed of when they didn’t have to concern themselves with anything except to play, laugh and love without expectations and instructions. What were the secrets in their hearts? Were they happy or unhappy, and how so? Did each of these little girls have someone who often hugged them, reassuring that ‘All would be okay?’ Did they feel beautiful or empty inside? Did they feel alone or cold, particularly in the company of others? Were they permitted to speak without being accused of ‘talking back,’ or were they told to ‘hush’ because they did not have the permission to voice their emotions?

cropped-torrie_ocean3.jpgThe aforesaid questions are sketched in my heart and although my maternal grandmother’s story remains untold, the remaining two girls, i.e. me and my mommy still have a chance to accept each other just where we are in life – fully flawed – and to possibly understand the heart of both girls whose first-male love (their fathers) were distant. Mom, the youngest of three, was brought up as a lone-spoiled child who was parented by a mother that regularly overcompensated because working full-time came first. Hence, mom gained materially but lacked proper nurturing such as the time when adamantly told to never return home with kids in tow with no husband but never explained what, how and why that was important.

Grant it, the desire of most parents is for their offspring to marry before having kids, however, the communication of these critical messages is more effective with explanations instead of demands so to teach healthy discussions instead of negative reactions. Just imagine how the curious mind of a teenager processes what not to do instead of what because of feared energy. We’ve all been there when asked not to do this or that but still questioning why not. If parents could only be mindful about how “the hurried pace of today’s society can be an obstacle to effective discipline” we’d invite more personalized ways of parenting for the betterment of child development for our family.

Now think of questions that are never asked of a daughter, or a child, to their mother because fright exist. When this happens the learn to understand or the ask to become empowered is suppressed unless there is an invite to share personal thoughts in a safe place. Hence, our homes must be that safe-haven, the place where intimate thoughts can be exchanged in a healthy way that promotes awareness, careful deliverance, love and affection  so that conversations with our kids aren’t viewed as directives but rather advice about how to handle certain situations.

Parenting from a place of fear delivers fear. Loving from a place of hurt delivers hurt. And communicating from a place of anger results in one’s inability to handle discourse in a positive way because rarely does anything happen from a place of hurt or harm, unless there is healing. Explained a different way means if a hurt person wants to truly bless another without constraint s/he will give, but with reservation because subconsciously and hesitantly, their instincts about what negatively affected them has a more lasting impact than any positive incident.

Parenting from Distance_HotSpringsLake

Need more convincing? Take a moment to think about a personal situation that impacted you so greatly that you now flinch at the sight of either seeing, smelling or talking about it. It could be anything from witnessing a robbery gone bad or the attack on the World Trade Center. Okay, now think about the person you were before these events occurred! My point exactly. Unquestionably, your disposition before these events are altered by the negative-emotional load you now carry today. Hence, the robbery, albeit, or the 911 attack is forever sketched as a recall about how to prevent or react should anything similarly revisit.

Lone_BlackGirl_LayingonMelon.jpgHence, there is a lesson to be learned about styles of parenting. Parents will either take on the same patterns of how we were parented, or we will unlearn to relearn other techniques for a different outcome. Nonetheless, my mission is to better know the little girl given to me before she was labeled mom so that shared fears of the little girl who lives in me sees her as a friend who desires to be understood, loved and embraced as the imperfect person who did the best she could to parent with the deposits of maternal love passed forward, despite its monetary value.

Black Women Need Their Mothers More Than Realized!  – Sunshine

The Stakes Are Too High

The Summer of 2019 arrived and I was set on sending my manuscript to the publisher, but I found myself full of doubt about what would become of her image, his image, our image to those of whom we knew personally. Did I cultivate enough, did I give opportunities for told truths, was I acting in haste because we are so differently made? Further questions about rushing to become an author at the risk of losing all that matters consumed me. I recall thinking that recanting printed thoughts from the reader’s point of view would be unapologetic and callous; hence, I clearly knew the stakes were too high to publish a book at the risk of possibly condemning loved ones.

Expecting precise facts at certain times in particular places of my life was a tall order to request from the woman who was marketing my book to the community without clear knowledge of her own practices. That was the epitome of my decision to no longer author, yet continue to blog. I finally understood how her inability to connect with me correlates with our inability to connect with one another because of the systemic practices from our fore-mothers.

WeSeeWhatWeWantFurther, it was over a chat in the chair when we both wondered about our lives in between the dashes when the second confirmation arrived. That one glance when he turned his face and looked me in the eye changed the course of events. It wasn’t what he said, but rather what he didn’t say – his whole demeanor changed insomuch I felt a sense of peace about what is now. The cadence of language consumed our space and gave me the peace I had been seeking for several years, which is to share space with them both wherever they are, however they are and whenever I can.

The trivial things I once gave focus will no longer consume me.

So, will I eventually become an author of a book you ask? I will continue to write and tell a collection of my stories, but only when guided by my heart and mind to make a difference to all I am loved by and to whom I love. Thank you for your unwavering support and regular encouragement. Good Vibes Only!

Xo – Blossom,

These 3 Words…

mom_daughter_at oddsGood Morning! I. Love. You.

These three words are often exchanged on the phone between me and my dear father. As he rises each morning I am certain that he keeps me in prayer, as he has done for many years. This is a practice I also reciprocate! Hence, God tapped me on the shoulder one day and whispered that I should text him more often to share this same greeting; but, my mother also needs to hear I.Love.You more often because she is the person I have emotionally missed for many years because of our differences and our inability to communicate with each other.

Additionally, my close friend, turned fiance who has three sons and one daughter, once told me that a little girl’s first love is her dad. This statement is so accurate, as I am told to be my father’s female version. In contrast, the same cannot be said, or isn’t regularly voiced when speaking about the relationship a daughter has with her mother. Ahem. With that said, I do speak of my mother with similar endearment because she was, and still remains my first role model, although communicating this to her is so challenging – most of my time is spent defending myself from her unconscious belief of my taking advantage of her guarded heart.

So, until she believes otherwise, I will continue to write with hopes of meeting her there! If she only knew! One day, though … One day.

Oh, I gotcha back!

He’s my Baby Boy (in the voice of a mother)

Make note of how a few Black mothers may find satisfaction in parenting girls differently than that of boys.  It goes a little something like this …

Make her tough so that she becomes an independent woman to build a life of her own. If he falls or fails, he will always have a place to come back to – Momma’s house.  Teach her mannerisms, e.g. how to sit like a little lady; yet, he will learn about chivalry on his own because I am unaware of the practices because I was never a recipient.  Ensure that her self-esteem is high, otherwise she may become too vulnerable and dispensable. However, he will be okay – he’s a boy, and besides, he will always have a place to come back to if things don’t work out – Momma’s house. 

Tell her about the birds and the bees so that her pocketbook remains valuable. He will learn about manhood through the experiences of other male figures because his father isn’t in his life, but if all else fails, he will always have a place to stay – Momma’s house! I suppose you get my point! Black mothers must stop pacifying our men, implying that Momma’s house is a place to return to when the school of hard-knocks becomes unbearable. A boy should be groomed to become a man, yet returning to Momma’s house to live and subsequently build a life should be a last resort (if any).

Grooming Boys to become Men

Becoming an example to other males should be the primary focus of experienced and matured patriarchs. Conversely, matriarchs can be successful when there is a great support system that promotes and encourages paternal bonding. However, there are some mothers who may do the opposite when feelings of insecurity fuels their energy, thereby shifting the true intent. With that said, this is not to insinuate single mothers are incapable of parenting successful, responsible men insomuch to say their parenting practices should include tips from male friends and respected male mentors as it relates to their sons.

Conversely, I know, as you may also, a few examples of successful men who were brought up by single mothers, i.e. former presidents, movie directors and so many more who get little to no recognition – thus, much to their credit. However, today’s challenge is greater for mothers to groom boys to become men than it is for their fathers, particularly if the mom is parenting from her past hurt and unhealthy emotions, such as a bitter divorce or tumultuous separation that results in custodial privileges.

Mother parenting boys‘What an admirable responsibility to be given sole or joint custody,’ is a likely reaction a mother with a son may receive. However, the challenges of teaching a boy manhood principles is overwhelming if at it alone. Iyanla Vanzant, who is an “American inspirational speaker, lawyer, New Thought spiritual teacher, author, life coach and television personality among many titles,” alludes to the mother’s inability to effectively parent boys when the practice is delivered from a negative stance of constant reminders of avoidance, fear and refrain that may eventually pique an interest of curiosity instead of employing teachable moments of ‘why.’

Take, for instance, a situation where the mother is overly concerned about her son’s propensities that mimics his father, which in turn, leads to a recall of her former spouse’s conduct that negatively impacted her. Therefore, instead of an embrace of her son’s innate traits, the outcome leads to anguish and apprehension between the mother and her child that stems from place of unhealed hurt and a possible lack of closure among parents who are now divided.

The message! Be mindful that parents may divorce, but the same should not be expected in a parent-child relationship when their parents are no longer together. Further, also reserve the thought that a mother could possibly be replacing a void of her male spouse with that of her son because of her inability to trust males again.

Three Little Black Girls

I wish to friend, understand and play with the little girls who came before me. I want to know what they dreamed of when they didn’t have to concern themselves with anything except to play, laugh and love without expectations and instructions. What were the secrets in their hearts? Were they happy or unhappy, and how so? Did each of these little girls have someone who often hugged them, reassuring that ‘All would be okay?’ Did they feel beautiful or empty inside? Did they feel alone or cold, particularly in the company of others? Were they permitted to speak without being accused of ‘talking back,’ or were they told to ‘hush’ because they did not have the permission to voice their emotions?

– Book excerpt from a section, titled ‘Three Little Black Girls,’ as the author explains the distant relationship between she, her mother and maternal grandmother.

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