complexdes

[complexdes]

If only there was a guidebook to life. "Turn to page 359 for how-to be a good mom, and section 600-659 for tips and tricks to navigate heartbreak, page 897 to learn how to find your purpose." I mean wtfff, I've never been here before and if I was, I don't recall my past life so ya girl could use a life line.

Turning Tables

The older I get, the more forgiveness I have for my mother. The more I understand her. I get her need to remain stoic. I'm more thankful for her resilience. I have more sympathy and empathy for the life that she sacrificed and the woman that she had to wait to become or may never get to.

My wounds heal a little more over time as I take on new milestones in life like having a kid, falling in love, falling out of love, navigating a job/career, & internal woes.

I see me in her. I see and feel the similar scars that she bares. Some that are my own and some that don't belong to me, but somehow have become my responsibility to heal. The adult version of me can give her a cup of overflowing grace that little Des couldn't, because I sit from a different perspective.

Before I was a passenger on her plane, now I have a front row seat, better yet I've been promoted to pilot for Hard Knocks Life Airlines, and to be honest I want to quit!

I don't know wtf I'm doing. I'm out here winging it; hoping and praying that the little human I’ve been entrusted to take care of makes it out alright and isn't overly traumatized by my shortcomings and internal chaos.

Now that I'm adult, I think about the things I wish my mother would have done differently. Surprisingly, it has nothing to do with erasing my trauma. Some of that was inevitable.

If anything, I wish my mother would have shared her vulnerability with me. I wish she didn't feel the need to hold so tight and make things seem perfect. I wish she let down her stoic veil when she was giving it to Jesus, and she expressed more to me what it felt like during. I wish she allowed herself to take a break so she could have given me ease when I needed one.

When we encountered hard times and traumatic moments, I needed for her to open the door to talk about how we felt. I needed her to let me know that while navigating life, it was normal to feel the way I was feeling. I needed her authenticity to let it all hang out, so we could discuss what we felt instead of tucking away what happened in a closet and pretending it wasn’t there. I needed it so I didn’t feel isolated and wrongfully imperfect. I think she needed it so, she could know that even in the mishaps she didn’t fail me. She was still an amazing mother. I think we both needed to know we were SAFE.

But, I understand why she couldn’t. My mother is a Baby Boomer and the generation that she comes from isn’t called the Silent Generation for nothing. I can see from the stories she shared with me that she wasn’t given that space or shown what vulnerability looks like, and I highly doubt she could dwell on her feelings. She was shown what it looks like to put your feet on the ground and keep pushing, you’ll be alright. She was taught not to complain, and give it to God. So, I can’t fault her for what she doesn’t know and doesn’t know how to give me because she also couldn’t give it to herself.

Therapy has taught me that capacity and intention are two separate things. I know her intentions were always good, with everything she did it was for my betterment and safety. It was always in love. Her capacity was something separate and understandable.

Passing the Baton

Now that I am a mother, I realize that a lot of the motherly guilt and pressures I put myself stems from a place of unrealistic childhood and ancestral expectations. I mean let's be so f**king forreal we live in a patriarchal world based off European standards. We have men who make decisions for our bodies and have defined what a “good” woman is and IF she is anything to herself FIRST then throw her ass in chokey!

As people in general, we are held to a standard that our titles in life define us; what we do makes us good enough, which leaves veryyyyy little room for humanity.

As a black woman, I feel societal pressures to always monitor myself. Whether it's through my looks, my language, my life decisions. Often, I feel that the image of black excellence only looks like one thing, which is still upholding the patriarchy. *eyeroll* Baby, I’m tireddd

*Insert heavy sigh* But that’s a discussion for another day. . .Let me stay on topic, because your girl will venture off.

Sooo. . .yeah, after a good look in the mirror, I realized I’m holding myself to the same level of perfection that mother held herself to. In my defense, this is a HUMAN that I birthed, that will one day be an adult and affect this world. He’ s not a Giga Pet that I can just stop taking care of one day and all will be well. The pressssssureeeeeeee.

When I think about what I want to give to my son, safety is something necessary I want him to have and feel. I want him to know that his freedom and beauty lies within his authenticity, and in me he always has a safe place to be himself. But, how can I truly teach him these things when I am holding myself to unrealistic expectations? Needing to get it right the first time and comparing myself to a level of perfectionism that never existed. Feeling shame and guilt about my flaws, and feelings that are considered “unmotherly.”

How can I teach him authenticity when I’m not accepting of my own vulnerability? When I’m not willing to accept all parts of me and give grace to the parts that I don’t quite like. Even though I’m telling him something different, he is also learning from my actions. I can see why he’s hard on himself when he makes a mistake.

At the end of the day whatever pressure and judgments I feel are only obscurations of reality anyways. Because deep down y’all know life is messy and confusing asf, even if you don’t want to admit it. We’re human at the end of the day and sometimes in making the “right” decision we find out that it was the wrong decision. . . and that is okay. A lot of the rules to be a “good” *insert whatever title you need* are made up. We are all complex beings and were intended to be so. I will never be a perfect mother, and he will never be a perfect son. All I can do is try my best, because my best is good enough. Hopefully, through opening the door of communication between me and him, and giving more grace and compassion, not only will he feel more comfortable with himself but, I will feel safer within myself.

As people we grow and evolve. Each generation finds a missing link and a way to improve things for the next generation. While I am not my mother, or the generations before me, I do have the tools and love that they have given to me. I have a connection to resilience, wisdom, and strength that was passed down and entrusted in me to use to cultivate a life of love for myself and my family. Now I get an opportunity to re-invent what I want parenting to look like.

I’ll be honest, vulnerability isn’t my strong suit. I’m only vulnerable with the things I want to show. However, as time goes on, I am finding the value in my humanness. Through being a mother, I feel the need to be more authentic to myself.

I know that in this ghetto hood of motherhood I’m going to continue to make mistakes and I know things will probably get messy but, I will do my best; I am doing my best. However, this chapter of my life, I will give myself a lot more grace, compassion, and rest.

With Acceptance, Des

[complexdes]

. . . Well, Hi

*insert awkward silence* Starting is always the hardest part. . . Well, at least for me. Maybe it's my ADHD or, possibly, that I feel things need to be perfect before showing them. I also had no idea how to start; obsessing over what to say, how to introduce myself. The uncertainty always seems to derail the things I want to do, and I find myself not attempting at all.

Buttttt, I am an Aries and one thing an Aries is going to do is some impulsive ass s**t. Listen, we can't help it! I honestly thrive best when I dive right in, it's only when I hesitate where I run into trouble. The discernment always serves me right.

Soooo here I go.

Who am I?

As a chronic overthinker, this question is wayyy too much pressure and I loathe it entirely.

There are just too many things to choose from. In full transparency, I'm still finding who I am and searching for my purpose. I believe that on this journey of life this is an ever-changing answer. The moment I think I have it down, life throws me a curveball and I am re-evaluating my answer. And why would I define myself by one narrative( mother, sister, daughter, woman,. . . )?! It's too limiting, and I am too complex of a being to get placed in a box. So here is a snippet:

Extroverted, a free spirit - Connectivity is my s**t. I love a good adventure with an opportunity to meet some new faces. As people, we need connection and community. Without it, what would we accomplish? For those that know me, know I've been a wanderer since a young age. Too young honestly *insert facepalm* as a millennial we watched ourselves.

Chatty Kathy - I've always been an oversharer(I think I made that word up but, w.e). It makes sense that I got most talkative in high school. But in sharing myself, I have always been met with so much love. It has allowed people to share themselves with me in return.

Lover Girl - I can't help but love, love, and all that comes along with it. Not just in romantic relationships, but in all forms, friendships, family, life, nature. Love is the only thing thats holding me together.

Mission Statement:

I originally started this Tumblr with the intention of helping others through being raw and real. A digital footprint of the gems that I receive from God and others. Butttt, that felt like too much pressure. If you're still with me, you have probably picked up on the common theme, I don't do well with pressure and, at this point of my life, I deserve ease. I'm so tired of being enlisted as one God's strongest soldiers.

So, I said f**k all that. This is for me. Because forreal, I have been needing something for myself.

I've been longing for a way to express myself uninhibitedly. Craving for a safe place where I can be authentic and unwind. Somewhere I can have fun with reality. . .because the world is a ghetto! Something I can do with love, and maybe through that I will find purpose. At this stage of life I need joy.

At the end of the day, the best gift we can give to the world is our authenticity.

So, with that said, if you are still here, thank you for tuning into my TED Talk. I hope with sharing some pieces of myself, you will find safety and comfort in knowing you are not alone.

With Love, Des