spectacularly beautiful Romanesca cauliflower
Little by little the children grow and our home life patterns itself into a rhythm of comfort and closeness. Gone are the days of post natal chaos, no longer just in survival mode we can appreciate the details.
Enthused to create a nurturing, loving and supporting space I take joy in parenting, in menial and mundane tasks, in fashioning this house into a nest. I feel gratitude for my role as a mother, appreciation for the safety of my home.
And then suddenly I see myself blown into something ugly in the eyes of another and momentarily my joy is punctured, this great role we are granted slips into a noose again. Until I stop and realise your problem is not my problem.
Your expectations of women and family are not mine. Your priorities are not mine. I value you, I am in awe of your skills, your speed and attention to detail, your ability to use a knife and decimate an onion in seconds, the amount of children you have birthed. These are all things of great value but I am not you. I was grown in other ways in another world. I have other skills, my worth as a woman cannot be weighed by the cleanliness of my floor or my ability ( or lack of) to cook your cuisine or speak your language. I am not you.
And when you cannot find good in me, your eyes are small. I have small eyes too, there are times when I have retreated into my own cultural vision like a sea anemone poked in uncomfortable places. Sometimes I have even hated, written you off, an entire people tarnished by my resentment, by my inability to carry your expectations without disgust. I made your problem my problem.
But not anymore.
I will love my role as mother and homemaker because I am doing it my way, prioritising what I believe is important, I will not be squeezed into a mould that doesn’t and will never fit.
I will not allow the expectations of others to puncture my own vision, my own joy.
And that is that!