He didn't say happy mother's day to me and for the most part, I'm okay with it. He's a teenager and the forgetful one at that. He's never been big on holidays, except for the ones he knows come with gifts for him. I guess in that way he's a normal kid. The thing about it is, I know that he thinks I'm an alright mom. He communicates this to me many ways. The way he feels comfortable sharing his feelings when it's just the two of us. The way he pushes back, shows that he feel safe with me. The way he asks for what he wants and needs reflects that he knows I will always do my best to prioritize his needs. He feels safe expressing his anger, frustration and fears without having to protect me. He knows I'm stable enough to handle it. He uses me as a resource. So even though I didn't get a silly card or a bouquet of flowers, or even a "Happy Mother's Day," I got him today, safe and thriving with his sweet smile and goofy sense of humor and really what more can a mom ask for.
I participated in a photo shoot for an event called the #suitupcampaign. It is the hope of the woman organizing it to have a more varied representation of body types in swim suits, which would in turn invite other women to feel comfortable "suiting up" for summer if they saw bodies that looked like theirs. I was asked to submit a picture of my suit and so I set out to take a couple selfies. As I was going through them and I started to notice something; I looked beautiful. As a fat, white, cisgender, femme-presenting, often mis-identified queer woman who is currently partnered with a cisgender man, I have received many messages about my body over the course of my life. From a very young age my body was labeled as fat. I understood the resounding message that my worth was directly tied to in how much space I was supposed to take up in the world. I understood that it was always open season on my body - from family, friends, doctors and even stranger...
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