Emily – USA
I am Emily: daughter of Cynthia, daughter of Virginia, daughter of Ruth.
I am Emily: mother of Tulsi, mother of a child in my womb, soon to be birthed into this world.
What do I hold in my body from these grandmothers of mine? Things left undone from their lives, things still to be discovered in mine. I hold the potential of life; I hold the seed of my grand-daughters.
I hold life, a child created through the merging of two souls.
I hold creative passion, a vision of my life to be expressed. The weaving of my lineage from both father and mother lines. The hope that I will carry through with their wills yet to be fulfilled. The knowing that I bring something all of my own to this life, a purpose and a dream.
How is it that I am so much of them and yet, I am so much of myself. A body, a woman, a soul, seeking.
Seeking acceptance, seeking love, seeking beauty, seeking sense of self.
I am a mother too. Sometimes, I give myself up completely for my children. My body, my solitude, my dreams. For but a moment in this blink of a life. To guide them, to welcome them, to teach them, to let them teach me.
Today, I surrender. Today, I am naked. I am none of these things and yet I am everything. Without anything surrounding me, how do I define myself? How do I feel embodied when I am exposed, without my crafts, without my children. How do I feel myself when I am away from my garden, my herbs, my music, my spinning, all of the things that I feel are a part of me?
I realize that my body tells my story. My bulging belly, my full breasts, the stretch marks of my hips, the tinge of gray on the top of my head. The way my hips curve, the way the moons appear so starkly on my back, reminding me of my connection with solitude, cycles of death and turning inward.
I know myself and that is what truly matters. To be here in the world, shining, and doing my part.
But I am not here to be looked at and judged. I am here for me.