Little girl rising
When I was a little girl. I can honestly say that I had no real role models to look up to, much less identify with. I had already established a little self hate. There were only women with light skin, blue eyes and blonde hair that held important roles. Only these women were promoted as beautiful. Only that type of woman seemed to be winning. Every time I would look in the mirror. I hated my brown hair , my brown skin and my hazel eyes. To top it all off I was on the chubby side. What else could go wrong. I was so caught up in the image of the Caucasian women, that at times even my own mother, the human that I loved most seemed ugly and not worthy …show more content…
My parents got divorced and we moved from a good middle class neighborhood. To the lowest of the low. My mother, once again became a single parent. For me it was the first time to actually live this phase with her. My real father I never met. So far I had been raised by my step father since the age of 2. Fast forward seven years later, my mother is fighting yet again to make it. That is when I saw her struggle. I lived her fight. I immediately became her secretary, translator and at times her advocate. For the first time, I saw how she was treated differently. By the time I was in 6TH grade I realized How wrong I had been. How could I be so blind? How could I not see that in fact, my mother truly was a worthy woman? My mother, a Mexican Woman who spoke little english. Who worked two or at times three jobs was that and more. She showed me what a real worthy woman was. That being a worthy woman had nothing to do with beauty. That it had to do with everything that a worthy woman will do to survive. How a worthy woman fights. Not with her fists but with her actions. I saw her wake up, wash tears off her face from the night before. Tears of anger, frustration and stress. Put on her poker face and with her head held high, walk out the door. She never let setbacks hold her down. All this time, I had the epitome of a worthy woman as my mother. I am grateful that circumstances did change. If not for them, I would never be the woman that I am …show more content…
I started working at 15. Fought my way out of the hood and gang violence. Fought my way through life. I promised myself that my mothers sacrifices would never go unnoticed. That I would repay her with my success. I have done everything in my power to make her proud. Thought about my actions twice so that she never had to bow her head in shame. At 22 I became a self employed Cosmetologist. By the age of 29 I acquired my very own hair salon. I was so proud, not of my accomplishments but of the pride I could see in my mothers eyes. She gleamed and that made me happy. I too had survived the elements of the disadvantages that life had thrown my way. I too had learned to fight with my actions. I too now held my head high and never let any setbacks hold me
When I was a little girl. I can honestly say that I had no real role models to look up to, much less identify with. I had already established a little self hate. There were only women with light skin, blue eyes and blonde hair that held important roles. Only these women were promoted as beautiful. Only that type of woman seemed to be winning. Every time I would look in the mirror. I hated my brown hair , my brown skin and my hazel eyes. To top it all off I was on the chubby side. What else could go wrong. I was so caught up in the image of the Caucasian women, that at times even my own mother, the human that I loved most seemed ugly and not worthy …show more content…
My parents got divorced and we moved from a good middle class neighborhood. To the lowest of the low. My mother, once again became a single parent. For me it was the first time to actually live this phase with her. My real father I never met. So far I had been raised by my step father since the age of 2. Fast forward seven years later, my mother is fighting yet again to make it. That is when I saw her struggle. I lived her fight. I immediately became her secretary, translator and at times her advocate. For the first time, I saw how she was treated differently. By the time I was in 6TH grade I realized How wrong I had been. How could I be so blind? How could I not see that in fact, my mother truly was a worthy woman? My mother, a Mexican Woman who spoke little english. Who worked two or at times three jobs was that and more. She showed me what a real worthy woman was. That being a worthy woman had nothing to do with beauty. That it had to do with everything that a worthy woman will do to survive. How a worthy woman fights. Not with her fists but with her actions. I saw her wake up, wash tears off her face from the night before. Tears of anger, frustration and stress. Put on her poker face and with her head held high, walk out the door. She never let setbacks hold her down. All this time, I had the epitome of a worthy woman as my mother. I am grateful that circumstances did change. If not for them, I would never be the woman that I am …show more content…
I started working at 15. Fought my way out of the hood and gang violence. Fought my way through life. I promised myself that my mothers sacrifices would never go unnoticed. That I would repay her with my success. I have done everything in my power to make her proud. Thought about my actions twice so that she never had to bow her head in shame. At 22 I became a self employed Cosmetologist. By the age of 29 I acquired my very own hair salon. I was so proud, not of my accomplishments but of the pride I could see in my mothers eyes. She gleamed and that made me happy. I too had survived the elements of the disadvantages that life had thrown my way. I too had learned to fight with my actions. I too now held my head high and never let any setbacks hold me