Want my Mama to celebrate herself instead of staying small. She’s big.
And yes. I want Mama to face me.
And make the best peace pie we can about this.
I am a mouse. But you can’t exterminate me. And yes there are more of me coming out of the woodwork. That’s what I am telling Mama.
It’s our time to speak up.
It’s not about Mama. It’s about what she was told that’s got her off course understanding her own daughter.
And by the way? I want to understand her.
If I didn’t? I would waste my time.
She would have never seen me if I didn’t give a damn.