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She Defines Me.


Quarantine kind of forced us all to reflect this last year, and hopefully dig a little deeper into who we are and what makes us tick. Sounds simple enough right? Little yoga here, little journaling there. Light work (haha). But what about your shadow? I think Blueboi is kind of this reflection of my higher self and shadow working in tandem. I sat with him for months. Denied him for months before that. Finally after quite an ego death, I sat down with him and listened to what he had to say. Want to know what I figured out? We just miss our mom and we love her a fucking lot. And maybe...maybe the reason receiving any form of love (or attempt at it) from her feels so uncomfortable because when we were little, we were made to believe we didn't deserve it.


In October, I set some very firm boundaries with my mom. She was only ever nice to me when she was in love, or intoxicated. Otherwise, I was a nuisance and a co-parent. She was an addict and an alcoholic...abusive...neglectful and there were five of us kids. So, growing up was really stressful, not to mention all the systemic oppression going on that she didn't understand how to navigate. Shit men. etc. So anyway, I explained to her that I'm not healed enough to deal with her (although, now I see it's the other way around) and that we probably won't ever have the dynamic she desires. The flowery Gilmore Girls best friends with mom dynamic. That'll never be us, and that is mostly her fault.


In November, things were shifting for me spiritually (again). I knew it was time to move to California, God told me I would find Dreamboy here. But, I had to make room for this blessing. I had to make sure I was ready. Fall 2020, I started doing this morning drawing exercise "how are you feeling?" , after a while the drawings were hyper focused on my heart space and the question became "what are you afraid of?" Several drawings later I learned that I was simply afraid of love. Afraid to open my heart. So silly, am I right?

The next step was to figure out why. What lies beneath the surface of my heart that has me so shook? During a micro mushroom trip and ritual bath on November 14, 2020 I got my answer, and my upcoming experimental EP, She Defines Me was born. The recipe for healing was the same as always, but this time as I immersed my body into my magic waters I was hit with a familiar scent: Raspberry Chapstick. My heart broke wide open. You see when I was a kid, middle school aged, I actually lived with my biological father. He was physically abusive. My mother found out after noticing patches of my brother's hair missing. She fought for us. CPS/DFS is filled with lousy, detached, and underpaid people. My dad found us walking home from the bus stop after an appointment after about two weeks of not being able to contact us and took us home. We didn't go easy. The memory of that day still stings. That was the one time I can remember my mom being present enough to fight for us. She lost of course, and I think that broke her somehow. She gave up after that, on a lot of things. Mainly, us. But during that fight she was always crying and kissing us. My whole face would smell like Raspberry Chapstick. When I smelled it in the bath that day, I just bawled. I finally stopped running. I finally let myself mourn the mother and the childhood I never got to have. I have been afraid of love for most of my life because my parents were the first people to teach me that love was a violent art, rooted in control and manipulation. Love is a demand that must be met and you will be heinously punished if you choose to do otherwise. Any morsel of love that is gentle or kind or nurturing, is not for me. I don't deserve it. I carried this lie in my heart for the better part of two decades along with a false but calcified hatred of my mother. Despite my apparently Oscar worthy performance, I have always loved my mother more than anything, to my own detriment sometimes. But now, I understand her. I want her to know that. I understand. The thing that really fucked me up that day in the bath was this: The first gift I can remember ever giving her, was a glass tulip, for Mother Day.


She Defines Me. February 10, 2021.




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