Mother of three
What does that even mean?
Responsibilities, obligations, duties
Alcohol and going out are taboo for me
Songs of sacrifices and martyrdom
Are the tunes I hum
Dinner with friends and
concerts are just WRONG!
Soccer games and play dates
Are my important dates
No time to spend
With my lifetime mates?
Mother of three,
Will I ever be free?
Unsurvivable
I wanted you but
God wanted you more
Perhaps you were an angel
not meant for earth
Perhaps you were a hard a lesson
in grief and loss
That I needed to learn
A lesson that I should never take
love and hope for grant
No matter how brief the stay is
A lesson that your heart
can break within a span
of a few minutes
A lesson in surviving
what you think is unsurvivable
When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?
I wrote this poem in September of 2022.
we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must make the best of our todays-
making community with our friends, reconnecting with our roots
loving our children with a loud fervor
we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must appreciate
everything we have
the legs that take us on walks and runs
the creativity that flows from our minds
the laughter shared with loved ones
I wrote this poem in August of 2023.
Children should be seen, and not heard is one tradition I’ll never keep
It would mean invalidating my children’s feelings
It would mean for them to have years of therapy trying to find their sense of identity
It would mean to reduce them to shadows who only speak when spoken to
It would mean passing them the torch of a generational curse that makes them question their self-worth over and over again
So everyone can judge me or criticize my parenting all they want
I like my children to not just be seen but also heard
even if it’s sometimes loud and boisterous
even if it sometimes sounds disrespectful
It’s important for their emotional growth, for their confidence
and to break and heal the generational curse where children are silenced
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
Our children pay attention to the stories we tell ourselves
I noticed when my son’s heart broke for the first time
and it awakened a deep catharsis within me
I would no longer hold onto my victim story
the one where I tell myself,
“I’m worthless, I’m not good enough, I’m unlovable”
Instead I’ll walk with confidence and all of the self love
I can muster up for myself
maybe just maybe if I can model this type of healthy behavior
the cycle of generational self loathing and self destruction
will finally be broken
And my children has a chance of living a life
filled with more joy and contentment
than mental illness
I wrote this poem in April of 2023.
the freedom and independence in my son
brings me a sense of pride with so much happiness
I see his fiery spirit shine from within
and his light is so bright-
I know I’ve done something right
he’s not afraid to take risks, he’s not afraid of failure
He’s not afraid to be himself
and I breathe a sense of relief
he will not bear the sense of forced obligations
or burden of expectations I had-
instead he’ll make himself and his happiness
a priority above all else
while still caring for humanity
it’s the beginning of breaking a generational curse
of obedient and silent martyrdom
that’s been inherited for generations
I wrote this in February of 2019
Mother of three
What does that even mean?
Responsibilities, obligations, duties
Alcohol and going out are taboo for me
Songs of sacrifices and martyrdom
Are the tunes I hum
Dinner with friends and late
Night concerts are just WRONG!
Soccer games and play dates
Are my important dates
No time to spend
With my lifetime mates?
Mother of three,
Will I ever be free?
I wrote this poem in February of 2023.
I warn my sons about falling in love with poets and writers
I try to dissuade them from it
They’ll use any insensitive comment you ever made
into a salty verse dripped with not so subtle insults
They’ll use your most intimate moments as metaphors
for heaven or earthquakes
They’ll describe you as God or the Devil depending on how you left them
They’ll make you a villain in their stories or worst, the hero in them
And the worst part-
They’ll make you way bigger in their mind than you ever wanted to be
so , I plead with you, fall in love with a boring accountant or a teacher
or even a lawyer
You’ll avoid the stress of being someone’s inspiration, someone’s muse
and the chaos and drama that comes along with it
Something on your “to-do list” that never gets done.
So my time is limited because of my crazy working hours, but something that keeps getting pushed to the back burner are my taxes from last year. I freaked out last year because haha I have to pay back an obscene amount ( welcome to middle class status in America), so I basically ignored them, and now here I am in a new tax year but now filing in a different status cause of my divorce. The good thing is that my oldest just got his A.A in accounting so he’ll do them for me this month or next. I’m good with the turbo tax software, but my situation feels like beyond my comprehension, so I’ll let an expert do it. Something I also need to do is spend more time with my 2 youngest sons. It is hard because my youngest likes to spend more time with his friends, and my other son has particular interests, which include discussing the state of world affairs and watching depressing foreign films. But yeah, I need to work on my relationship with both of them. I even suggested playing fortnight with my youngest, but he told me it was cringe and I’m too old. Lol. I hope this time next month, I’m done with my taxes and find ways to bond my sons.
Life on the BPD 