Late Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day!

Even though I doubt
there will be any sort of presence for this day
every witch should be given some sort of honor.
So here's yours.

The gift of comparison
you gave.

Occasionally, someone touches my hair gently,
I remember how you jerked at it
pulled and brushed and braided while I winced
and told me that beauty was pain.

When anyone makes a comment on my clothes
or how I look,
I think about how you told me that I was not pretty enough,
or so pretty that I'd never work hard enough
or the endless lectures and books about diets
or how mad you were when I finally had enough
and told you that you were wrong, my feet weren't fat.
And you cried.

When I tell the truth about anything,
I have a small victory
because you taught me it was safer to lie.

When I make a phone call
or take a phone call
and I don't feel fear or anxiety
I think about how
I cringed at every phone call until last year.

When I look at my skin
and the permanent decisions I've made
and the ink that lives there
I smile,
because you taught me that I only ever meant something
when you were proud of me
when I did what I was told.

This won't mean anything to you
but you were right about a few things
I like my hair better curly than straight
Practice doesn't make perfect,
but it does make things easier.

Happy Mother's Day/