i'm not flying yet, but i am doing more with my body than i ever imagined i could do. i'm learning that i'm stronger than i ever thought i was. i wish i had a photo to remind myself of the things i can do on that trapeze when i get anxious or worried about everything else in my life. i am so afraid sometimes, so scared that i can't do everything i have to do to care for myself and my family, the women i serve in my job, the folks who call the GRJAN hotline and need help exercising their basic reproductive rights. i'm often immobilized with anxiety that i'm not doing enough to build a better world for my daughter. that i'm not strong enough to carry her through all of the shit she's going to face. that i can't teach her how to be strong and carry herself.
but i'm learning that i'm stronger than i ever imagined. for many months, my body blossomed into an ecosystem, an entire planet for this tiny girl. i worked harder than i've ever worked before to bring her here. i learned how to read her needs, to take care of her and comfort her and soothe her to sleep. last night, i hung upside down by my legs on a fucking trapeze.
i'm learning that with my strength, i can teach my daughter that she can be whoever the hell she wants to be and do anything she wants to do. that women are incredible, and not just because they can grow people. that even if she doesn't want to be a woman, zie'll be the most amazing person i have ever known. she's helping me realize that i can take my body and my mind to the absolute brink of what i know i can do, then leap, then soar beyond any expectation i've ever set for myself. i can grow humans. i can change the world for my daughter. i can hang upside down by my legs on a fucking trapeze.
photo by kyle m. martin
Oh April, this is beautiful. You are beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThe last two sentences of the first long paragraph remind me of something my mother said to me when I was in college. This was before I knew you wonderful ladies at JRF, and I had been through more than a few heartaches and rejections (as any new college student does), so I emailed my mother a very long message to vent and share my emotions. Her response was:
"Oh honey! I wish I could hold you and kiss you and make it all go away... but then you would grow up wimpy."
I laughed for a while and realized that she couldn't always carry me through the shit, and when her words sunk in, I learned how to carry myself. I'm confident that Asa won't grow up wimpy either. She will be just as strong as her mother.
Rachel