Self Care For Dynamic Women (TM): Healing A Mother-Daughter Relationship with Black Girl Magic

dedicated to Yolanda Renee Evans, my mom

When I think of the ongoing debacle that was my adolescence, I can't help but be amazed by what it means to be a 16-year-old mother. I am astonished that my mom was not only that, but she went on to be a young bride at age 17. I often wondered to myself---how do you even know what do at such a tender age? Quickly I realized the daunting answer...You don't! You just do the best you can and try not to roll over on the baby in the bed. :-)

2 years after birthing me, my brother, Montsho Edu (Aaron Evans), was born. With the addition of this new baby boy, my mom was thrust into a mature existence at the ripe age of 17 years old. In contrast my step daughter, Taylor, is 18 and about to graduate high school. Her biggest concerns are which college to choose, when to get her driver's license, and whether or not to upgrade to the iPhone 6s. The polarity to my mother's life at that age makes it abundantly clear as to why she is my shero, well above my beloved Oprah. I honor my mother not because she was perfect, but because she survived it all despite the plausible destructive alternatives. My brother and I survived too. And we all did so with our sanity intact...Well, mostly.

The journey was no cake-walk

When I Ponder back on it all, it was nothing short of a miracle. Not the kind like Jesus parting the Red Sea. No-- this was a real-life-badass-black-woman miracle. Black girl magic at its finest! My mom and I grew up together; she made mistakes and I was no peach of a kid. Together we gave each other hell, broke each other's heart numerous times and--truth be told--often felt tortured by the other. It was downright mutually abusive.

As a self-critical, sexually abused, suicidal, rage-filled kid I was hurting and keeping insidious secrets. As a kid forced to be a woman far too soon, resentful of an unplanned life, my mother grappled with balancing her lost innocence against her natural maternal instincts. We both lived with rage just under the surface. I remember my mom telling me, "if anyone ever touches you, I will kill them." I believed her! So I kept my secrets buried beneath the rage and self-loathing. Instead we acted out of our respective rage and pain. But it got better, eventually.

My father's death opened the gateway to healing

When my father died in 1990, it left a gaping hole in my heart. After lots of therapy and personal evolution, I realized this hole could only be filled by rekindling the mother-daughter connection in my life. I needed my mommy more than anything at that time. I needed to love her and be loved by her. The wonderful thing about healing journeys is that sometimes the people you love are traveling one too, simultaneously.

One day I sat down with my mom and poured my heart out (the palpitations I felt in the moment almost made this statement a literal one). Here's the thing...It wasn't the end of anything, instead it was the beginning of everything. I distinctly remember falling back in love with my mother. It was like an emotional defibrillator. There have been many conversations since that day. Healing is a journey--not a forced destination.

Here's the turning point of my story...She was ready. She listened with her soul not just her ears. She didn't get defensive, even though she didn't even remember a lot of my mother-daughter hurts. Once again, she put the needs of her child ahead of her own ego. As a result a weight was lifted from my spirit. My little girl was free to grow up and reach for recovery.

Fast forward a couple of decades and my mom is my best friend (beside my new wife). She is a motivator, a grounding force and my reason for wanting to be better. Many times her belief in me has filled the spaces where my fear and insecurity resided. In those times I believed in myself, almost exclusively, because of her belief in me. We have a mutual respect, admiration and love that is palpable to others who share our company. I would have a nice savings if I had a quarter for every time someone said, I wish I had that kind of relationship with my mother, or I love the relationship between the two of you. In part, I wrote this article because I want those people to know that my mother and I make an ongoing, conscious choice to forgive and love one another over and over again.

THE HOPE

For those of you struggling with your daughter, or your mother, on this day--I see you. I know there is hope if you both reach for it. Don't let your ego and pain be bigger than the healing and recovery. I do believe in what I call a spiritual umbilical cord. The physical cord feeds and nourishes the body while in the mother's womb. But as soon as that cord is cut, the spiritual umbilical cord takes hold of your soul and bonds the two of you for life. Without words and even action, you can send Love and Hope through this unbreakable gateway, even if you've never laid eyes on your biological mother.

The most important thing is for you to do your personal work. Then nurture your love through your metaphysical connection long before you speak words to one another. Make no mistake, my relationship with my mother is still not perfect; but rest assured I am not seeking perfection. No ma'am! My daily prayer is one of acceptance and gratitude. Gratitude may come easier than acceptance, but when they are linked---miracles await you!

I'm grateful for all the experiences that made me the self-loving, warrior-queen I am today. I don't take the memories nor the moments for granted. With every laugh, cry and frustration I am always basking in the miracle of this journey. For this-- I am eternally grateful. Thank you, Mom, for allowing our souls to choose each other in this lifetime. We grew up together and my fervent prayer is that we will grow old together, holding closely the sweetness of a well-earned mother/daughter love.

To all the Teenage Warrior-Mamas Around the World: