Baby Momma

Awhile ago I was on Instagram and someone I follow had liked a text post that went something like “Sorry ladies but a ring is supposed to come before a baby – and that woman who didn’t do it in this order were living wrongly”. It was haughty – it had an air of woman who are married first before children are better. The person who posted this justified this idea by of course quoting the bible. Things like this (as a single mother with no ring) don’t bother me. But there are a few things wrong with this outlook which is why I decided to write a post about it.

The post is only directed towards women! Of course one would blame the woman in an idea as archaic as this one because a woman can have sex with herself and conceive all on her own (loll) It also reduces a union between two people to simply…. a ring.

In the comments a lot of women were agreeing with this and its always the women who feel like they are better than “baby mommas” that will agree with a male centered idea such as this one. It is one thing to want marriage and then kids for your own life – it is another thing to try and say someone else’s path is wrong. I wish women could uplift each other more I wish women would realize that their truths are not every other woman’s.

The term “baby momma” used to really bother me. Lets be honest the phrase is usually used in a negative way but lately I’ve been thinking the phrase can be taken back like so many other degrading words and phrases are beginning to be. I cannot be shamed because I’ve had a child without being married first and neither should anyone else be. Let’s change that narrative its degrading and demeaning towards women.

Does the bible say for you to be married before you have children? Yeah. It also says a whole lot of things like do not lie or steal or disobey your parents … I’m sure there is something the bible tells us not to do that we have all done. And to be honest the whole idea that marriage needs to come before kids is a old patriarchal view meant to literally keep and control women because we are the ones who can produce life. Women do not need a ring to have children if that is what she wants then that is her truth and if she doesn’t get a ring before kids that’s okay too.

These are difficult times. Weird times. Hateful times. Lets all work on not putting each other down and spreading only love.

For all of our differences we are really all the same.

P.S.

This post isn’t meant to bash married women or women who want to be married before children. Its just meant to give some lovin to single mothers.

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Natural Dyeing

Recently, I thought it would be a good idea to naturally dye the canvases that I paint on. I did some test strips earlier this month using avocado pits and the skins to get a nice pink – peach color. I think canvases and weaving and natural dying is something that is dear to me because its surreal to think that our ancestors use to do everything the natural way. Natural dying is from the earth. It’s like making something with mother natures help. So, I have done a little natural dying a wanted to share the directions on how to natural dye with avocado pits and share some photos of the results!

So, first thing needed is 3-5 FRESH avocado pits. The first time I dyed with avocado pits two of my pits were 3 days old and the color wasn’t as vibrant as the second dying. Whatever material that you will be dying needs to soak overnight in warm water and a mild detergent to break down the fibers in the material. The next day get a large pot and bring water (enough to cover material) to a boil. Add in avocado pits and skins (if you want to use the skins as well) and bring to a simmer. The water should take 15-20 minutes to begin to change to pink but if it takes longer be patient. While this is happening your materials can be submerged in the water. Leave materials in water mixture overnight (I left mine for two nights) then the next day rinse materials and wash if desired with mild detergent.

 

The first two photos are the test strips that I did while the last photo is of a larger canvas that was done and just some of the detailing you can get with the dying. Processed with VSCO with kk1 preset

And the final canvas I dyed. These canvases were a cream colored duck canvas material so if using a lighter fabric and a white fabric the color could be more intense.

If you have any questions let me know!

 

We are female.

I started my cycle today seems fitting that I started the day of so many woman’s marches and the joining of females rallying together in defiance against the new term of presidency. America is ready for a revolution of sorts it is way past due. For all minority’s to come together and to demand what is right and equal for all of us living in this country. For freedom for safety for security. And the fight the power for all of this begins within each and everyone one of us that has been overlooked or marginalized in any way. 

In a society where the masculine is praised more than the feminine I have read in countless books and experienced today what it means to really really be comfortable with my body. Most woman at the start of their cycles because of work or plans already made will find their cycle as an annoyance. Even commercials on IUD’s and birth control tell you be period free. Commercials made for woman are not really for us. This is not the way feminism is supposed to feel. You should not be ashamed of cramps, or bleeding, PMS. Welcome it. Relax into it. 

Today when the cramps came I struggled at first I fought it I tried to control then I tried to ignore but as the cramps came in waves I relaxed I breathed in and out with each wave and I felt my uterus I felt what is me. I welcomed the pain and the darkness and allowed it to wash me like a warm bath. There was a moment of peace of newness. As I listened. I experienced what my body so desperately needed to show me to, feel. 

The next time you start your period do not reach for the Advil or the Midol. Do not ignore. Do not cover up your period your bleeding. Take the time to give yourself time to retreat to go inside yourself to see all the pain you have inflicted on yourself and your body when you did not love her. Forgive yourself.  Like with everything your body is coming into a new “cycle” it is being born again you should feel new to have shed. This is a time to go within to listen to be still. 

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My Story

February 2,2015 I got an abortion. I was fresh out of an abusive relationship I was sleeping around a lot not making many connections. Living in the physical. Owning my sexuality for once not caring about numbers, or soul ties or attachment. Just simply doing and not being. I thought I felt alive.

And then I met someone who I actually liked who I wanted to be with but who wasn’t really ready for a relationship and I wasn’t either but again I was on a physical plane not really thinking. And then I was pregnant. I remember telling my roommate that my body felt different. I knew before I knew. And I wanted to keep it to myself to keep a secret. Sometimes I wish I had. Because I never gave myself time to process what being pregnant even meant or would mean tome. I remember telling him that night. Questions of is it mine. Was I sure. It was cold. It was a cold December night.

I was scared but in the beginning I was so sure I wanted to keep her. I was so sure. I took a lot of baths I sang to her. I hummed to her. I don’t know when or how the idea of an abortion came in. But it did. Listening to other people more than myself taking in everyone else’s feelings but my own. I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t lean in my own understanding. And I remember the day he broke down in his moms apartment telling me he wasn’t ready that he couldn’t do it. By then I had disassociated myself. I could feel you growing. I could feel my body changing. My breasts swelling. But everything was physical. I gave in. I gave up.

It was Christmas. I sang silent night to my stomach rubbing in a dark bathroom in the tub. Cause baths have always been my sacred place. Water had always felt safe. We had went driving around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights – I was holding my two month old niece in the backseat. On the phone. In the infatuation stage. Not taking this life energy serious. A lot of different men were still trying to get at me. I was high and giddy off the fleetness that life is at 22.

Three different trips to the clinic and I should’ve known the way we put it off until I almost couldn’t have the operation because I was too far along. It rained all three times on the way there. I know now I should’ve seen this as a sign. One time I had woke up and had ginger ale before going- you’re not supposed to eat or drink anything after a certain time before.  Girls at the clinic asked if I was sure if I wanted the baby gone. I wasn’t. 9 weeks in. And you were already making yourself known. Morning sickness and barley able to keep anything down. I had an ultrasound – I saw you.

The day of the operation. I was nervous. The guy I was with picked me up. Red car. His friend was in the car too, he dropped him off. He was high. It was dark still the sun hadn’t came up. I didn’t talk a lot the ride there. When we got there I checked in. They take you in a back room alone. You change your clothes. They put an IV in you and your body gets cold – you are given a heated blanket to keep it at bay – other woman sit with you in the dim hallway waiting for their turn. On woman asked me how old I was because I  looked so young. She asked if it was my first. She told me she had two other kids already but couldn’t afford a third. You walk into the room you get on the table people all around. By this time your thoughts are hazy. My thoughts were hazy. And then I was asleep – sleeping through not feeling anything. And then woken up feeling sick throwing up. Getting my prescription waiting for the car to come around. Feeling weak. Tripping. Needing help into the car. Forgetting how to walk. One foot in front of the other.

I slept mostly on the way back. I slept mostly for three days. In a daze. Laying in bed. I became extremely attached. I never wanted to be alone. I was angry. I was sad. I was emotionless and emotional.

I slept with a heating pad because it felt better. I still wasn’t eating a lot. I was drinking a lot. Smoking a lot. Partying. I remember one day specifically I went to the mall with my sister and niece and my sister asking me what had a spilt on my sweatshirt. I was lactating. A week after my abortion I was lactating at the mall. My body releasing the last bit I had left from being pregnant. I did my best to cover up all the “bad” feelings I had from the abortion. I cried. I wrote poems about it. But I never forgave myself. I didn’t talk about it. And my friends didn’t because I think they knew more than I did how much I was really bothered.

It took me along time to get to this point to admit to myself that I made this decision. For along time I would say to myself it was a miscarriage but it wasn’t. It took me along time to think about the reasons why I had an abortion. My conflicted relationship with my own mother – never really feeling close or understood by her. Never feeling wanted as a child. Being molested at nine. I never gave myself any real chance. I never gave my first child any real chance. I thought my parents would disown me that they wouldn’t and couldn’t love me because I felt this way already. I know my mother has had bad relationships with men but no details. I think mothers should tell their daughters about their relationship experiences. That they should tell them about love and what it has meant to them as they’ve gone through breakups.

I say this to say – I hope someone some girl one day who is scared and pregnant that I can talk to her. Hug her. Tell her everything will work out if she puts trust in herself and the universe. I hope one day I can tell my daughter about this. That we will be able to heal each other from my own experiences. For all the mothers out there talk your daughters but also really listen not only to what they say but their body language as well. I’m not saying abortions are wrong – but it was wrong for me. Opening up is my first step to healing. And I can only hope this resonates with some of you.

Thank you. IMG_4037.JPG