Here we go again

It's about that time of the year,
When festivity checks in,
When she leaves her morals in November,
Picks them up in January,
It's that time of the year when
thoughts of the past months start trickling in,
She begins to wonder whether the choices she has made
are actually choices she is proud of,
She questions her actions
were they of pride,of shame,of apathy,
She gets lost in the fog that is her future,
So eager to experience it
yet it cripples her with fear,
That fear that makes her body weak in the knees,heart palpitate and palpitate and palpitate,
like a banshee on ketamine,
She wonders whether her future self will hate her for decisions of her wanting, her lusting,her loyalty to a fault,
She wonders whether she is lost in her darkness,
It creeps back in more often now,
it scares the living daylights out of her,
Her demons ever so loud,
She has done pretty well though,
She is proud of the self growth
proud of her strength,her resilience
her power
She is indeed a power force to reckon with,
As she ushers in the new year
uncertainty being her biggest anxiety trigger,
She will forgive herself for the stupid,the reckless,the good,the bad and the down right ugly,
She will allow herself to live,to participate,to be vulnerable,to be afraid,to make mistakes...

Sweater Weather..

and there were always those nights

where she preferred

the rain over people.

because the rain 

would remind her of how she should feel

and people would remind her

of the things she

always wanted to forget.

r.m.drake

Mom Shaming

To grow at an expedited rate for nine months,
To labor for hours on end,
To give birth to a child is nothing short of an experience,
There is a Swahili proverb that states "kuzaa ni kazi, lakini kulea mwana ni kazi zaidi
*to give birth is work, but raising a child is more work*
There is no break between child birth and motherhood,
That woman has just pushed a human being out of her body,
There is the nurse trying to teach her how to breast feed,
Kids do not come with a manual,
Latching is so frustrating,
The infant crying and crying,
All they want is the breast,
Fuck! her exhaustion,
The baby finally latches,
Her nipples have never experienced such battery,
they become tender, sensitive, skin peeling and cracking,
Did I mention that this woman's vagina has been stitched up,
She can barely pee without wanting to pass out,
Her belly full of stretch marks only reminiscent of the journey her body has gone through,
Her nights are sleepless,
She cannot close her eyes without the fear...
that relentless fear that this infant will choke, lie on them or even worse die
in the few moments she catches some shut eye,
How about like a lover possessed
her every waking moment is filled with thoughts of her child,
She can barely go to the shop without being paralyzed by fear,
THEN...
There is a bunch of us who cannot stop mum shaming,

We never for a second empathize with women who have children,

We never look away from the privilege we have

as childless people,

How dare she breast feed in public?
How dare she wean her baby off breast milk before 6 months?

How dare she go for a night out?

How dare she want to look beautiful?

How dare she want to have a life aside from being a mother?

How dare she be depressed?

How dare she be an addict?

How dare she want to have a skin crawling sex life?

How dare she be queer?

How dare she have multiple baby daddies?

How dare she be too young?

How dare she try not to conform?

How dare she not be SUPER WOMAN...