my choice, and mine only, to make.

I wasn’t underage. I wasn’t raped. I wasn’t promiscuous or unprotected. I was poor and could barely take care of myself.

I was abandoned and yet obedient when the father said “I don’t want anymore kids”

Willing to oblige even though i didn’t have any yet. It was at a time in my life when i was still learning how to love myself. My health was also a factor because I was told for most of my life that having kids could be dangerous for my condition. Feeling like the odds are stacked against us and I had little to no support, I made the choice as it was my choice, and mine only, to make.

It was the most responsible one I could have made for myself at the time. What I’ve learned since is, there is no healing process. A life not yet lived opens doors but has no closure.

Time was my only armor because it hasn’t gotten easier but it also didn’t get any harder. The first year was full of should’ve, could’ve and would’ve’s. I often imagine the “what if’s” and answering myself will always leave me overwhelmed with sadness.

I take subconscious trips down memory lane with caution because it’s full of construction. As I eventually went on to have children I would surely find silver linings and give the credit to my approach to motherhood, to that experience. It made me set a standard for myself and I am intentional with my parenting.

My kids have been instrumental in me coming to terms with and living with MY choice