I started getting breasts at nine. I was a full C cup at 12. I’ve had these hips since I was 13. The butt was hereditary. So I’ve had it all my life. But my face was a “baby face” well into my 20’s. And my giggle still that of a school girl. There was no way an ADULT could mistake ME for one. But still my mom made me wear a girdle once I turned 13 and always insisted I wear slips through most of my teen years, because a butt that jiggled and silhouettes of thighs meant you were “fast.” She made sure to introduce me as her “baby” in spaces where there were new or unfamiliar men around so they understood I was a minor. I was NEVER allowed to spend the night at anyone’s house but family, and there were some family I couldn’t even spend the night with. All these oppressive but well meaning attempts to keep lecherous men at bay. The onus was never on us as girls, but how does a mother protect her little girl in a world that doesn’t even value her?
I begrudged some of the more restrictive parts of my upbringing, but the older I get, the more compassion I find for my mother’s decisions. My dad gave me my independent spirit, my belief that I could do anything I wanted in this life, and his very presence on the planet gave me a sense of safety. My mother knew what it was like navigating this world as a black woman and did her best to shield me from its horrors so that I could freely believe the messages my father gave and see only the limitless possibility of being an independent black woman.
But she was always willing to stretch when my strong will pushed the boundaries of her comfort. She never wanted to hold me back, but she knew too much to be completely comfortable when I dared to operate outside of the oppressive norms. So she yielded to my free spirit by expanding her container each time I pushed at its walls, but she never could completely give up the container, because she knew.
She knew that this world would never value me as much as she and daddy did. She knew that the messaging I received outside of her container would try to feed me lies about my self worth and undermine all the things they had taught me to believe. She knew, so she did her very best to protect me for as long as she could. Her protection seemed like limits back then. I see the intentional love behind her actions now. She Knew...