Tag Archives: parenting

Because of you..

Because of you, my child has to grow up not only being a minority, but being a minority with baggage. Because of you, I don’t know if I’m the victim of rape, because I never liked you like that, but you were my friend; and you’d never do that, right? You’re in jail, because of you. Sure, she might have lied, but it was your door that she walked through.. Because of you, my child’s never known her father, and because of you I hope she never needs to. Because of you I often forget that she was created by more than just me, because it’s been just me from day one.. Because of You.
Because of you, she’s not an only child, and I don’t know the things they’ll discuss. Because of you, I don’t know how you’ll be portrayed to her, but it won’t be as a father. Because of you, there’s going to be a stigma that follows All of us. Because people ask questions that I don’t know the answers to.. Because of you, there’s an empty space on my child’s birth certificate, and a void I hope we’ll someday fill. Because of you, I wonder how Prince Charming became another devil in disguise, so quickly.

As A Young Mother…

To say I’m hopeful is an understand. I’m hopeful that when you’re my age, that seeing my name appear randomly on your phone won’t feel like a burden. I’m hopeful that the thought of hugging me isn’t something that make’s you feel uncomfortable.. I’m hopeful, that when you hear a pear say, “I have the best parents in the world!” that you don’t think of me and scoff at how someone could actually love their parent(s) their much. I’m hopeful that when you grow older, you’ll realize that I tried my best, and that everything I do is with your best interest at heart. I hope that you’ll be patient with me, even if you don’t show it, because I’m still learning too. I hope that you never feel like anything less than the greatest part me, because if it weren’t for you, my life may have never taken direction. I hope that I tell you the right things when you need to hear them, and that you don’t resent me for not knowing how/when to say things. I hope that you’re never ashamed of me, and never take the small things for granted. I’m hopeful that you appreciate experiencing things for the first tine, together, as much as I know I will; like Disneyland or maybe a cruise, the possibilities of where I hope we’ll go are endless. I hope that I can push you to do better than I have, that you actually give a damn about school and get good grades. I hope that I never crush any of your dreams and only push you closer to your aspirations. I’m hopeful that your wildest dreams are greater than my imagination, and that you let me do everything in my power to help you achieve them. I’m also hopeful, that you’ll never use my own words against me. But in the end, I’m just hopeful that you wind up happy and that your health is never anything short of spectacular.



P.S. I claim no rights to the photo below.


I don’t want to be like my mother. I love her,  but not her attitude. I try,  and try, and try some more; all to get the same result. Never do I hear “I’m proud of you” but,  “fuck off/fuck you” is becoming more common. In her eyes I’m never doing the right thing. I want my children to be proud of me, Never embarrassed or belittled by me. I want them to hear “I love you” every night. I can’t even tell you the last time my mom said she loved me. It’s Really been that long. It’s killing me,  and I think that’s why I’m so stuck on the future,  because it’s optimistic and bright;  a whole new world in my eyes.

I’ll admit it, I’m a hypocrite on weight.

I always tell women how beautiful their figures are. I think plus sized models are GORGEOUS, they’re bigger but shaped in such a feminine, pretty way. I’m a rather thin girl with both large hips and breasts, but rarely am I thin enough in my own eyes. Here I am preaching how beautiful it is to be bigger, but I’m obsessed with my own weight.


A few years ago, about 5 of them, I hated myself and my life. I seen anorexia as beautiful. It was how I dreamed of looking, I never did become anorexic, but I did starve myself. I’d go without eating until I became dizzy and lightheaded. I ate, but not large portions.  More like, about half of what I should’ve. That was the easy part, the people around me never said anything because they didnt notice. I’m not blaming anyone but myself, but I wish I would’ve had my own view of beauty back in that particular portion of my life. 

Now, here’s the catch, I see my life and my body as beautiful. But I that number on the scale tell me if I’m good enough. 4-5 years ago I was the same height and weight, 2-3 years ago I grew an inch taller but gained 3 pounds. “It’s no big deal, it’s just that scale” I told myself. At the beginning of this last summer, I weighed myself and was yet another 5 pounds. I loved my figure until that moment, a part of me broke down, my confidence was melting. As a result? I lost 10 before school could roll back around. lately, I haven’t been working out at all and I’m slacking on my nutrition (which is surprising cause I tend to be a health freak). I know nobody else’s notices these changes because they’re very subtle, but it kills me. If I’m not perfect, I’m not good enough.


and that’s what makes me a hypocrite.Image