Are

When you look in the mirror at home,

You are fine and happy with what you see.

The problem is when you step outside of the home.

That's where the mirrors reflect something else.

Something other.

Gathered in a room of girls,

Silently competing,

"Fine and Happy" suddenly isn't cutting it.

That skirt you thought was fetch,

Their eyes squint at it, but then smile up at you betrayingly.

You look down,

And its newfound ugliness pierces through you.

And yet again,

That ugly deceiver rears its head

Oh no,

Not envy.

We are aware of envy's danger, it's hold, it's wrath.

We are wise to envy's game and the lies of the grass being greener.

So it sends, instead, the coy and looming face of its partner:

Comparison.

I remember the night,

Months previously,

As I did my far too regular trawl of Facebook,

I saw a mother describe how her bundle had finally cracked it and was getting to sleep at 6:30pm and sleeping through the night.

The words grabbed me.

My sane brain left, and my over achieving mind took over.

It started off being happy and pleased knowing the rest a mother needs,

The difficult season the early days of babies are,

And the relief her soul must feel.

Then like a snake it winded cunningly down another dark path,

One where I, once again, questioned my mothering skills:

"Why cant I get my child to sleep?!"

"What am I doing wrong?!"

"'Am I not a good mother?!"

The path weaves further, leading to an ugly pit:

"Why isn't Zella like that child?!"

That's where comparison grabs you,

To that place where even those you love,

Those most close,

most vulnerable,

Risk being attacked.

If I play that evil game,

With my precious babe at just 4 months young,

Then where will I be in 4 years or 14?!

How bruised and damaged will her self-esteem be??

For isn't the root cause of the too-skinny

Too-fat

Too-stressed

Too-overworked

Too-drugged up

Too-overachieving

Lying naked and stripped at the feet of comparison??

The saddest thing of all,

The true travesty of the situation,

Is that comparison steals your joy.

Steals your now.

Steals the things of beauty,

Laid before you in this moment.

At present, my favourite thing about Zella is the way she is with people.

Long did I imagine, hope and pray for a child who would not just be ok with others,

But revel in the wonder and fun of new people.

As our dear friend came over and sat on our sofa Sunday night

Zella played with her face

Smiled brightly

Burped responsively

Cuddled tightly

And brought more joy to an individual than I ever thought she could as such a young thing.

And as we travelled across the Atlantic

She took her spirit of woo

Of charm

Of love

At the airport check in desk

Sweet smiles to the security guards

Passengers apprehensive about her small life and potential cries

Were enveloped into her grin and giggles

And as each friend in Texas called her name

She reached arms swung wide open

Almost falling into their embrace

To stroke their face and nuzzle close

If I stand in the place of looking at others side-by-side to her,

I miss seeing her as she sits, just as she is, on her own, as her own individual.

I cannot and will not compare myself to another.

And I most certainly cannot and will not compare my child,

my kin, my babe, fruit of my womb,

To any other.

I will not buy into that silent lie,

That breeds bacteria of discontent.

She, just the way she is,

Like husband, just the way he is,

Like me, just the way I am,

Is more than enough.

Just right.

Complete.

These words will I speak into her,

Over her,

Through her,

With her.

"Zella, you are fine and happy, just the way you are."

Breath

I can’t live in you

I can sustain myself

In you

You have nothing for me it seems

Mr. Moment.

There is so much to do

The rush of the days chores and activities

From one activity to the

Next

Like a chain smoker

Barely stubbed up out

I light up the next

Addicted to the adrenaline of a life on the run

Unaware that the smoke is slowly

Wrapping its dirty smog arms around

My lungs as I strain

To even take in

I don’t think I even know what its like to not feel this way

Struggling

Grasping

My mind runs to the future

The trendy loft apartment

Got on a bargain

Conceiving place of the

Newborn I cradle in my arms

As the others run around screaming

“Madea” as my mother helps me in my chaos

steve home from work chases kids around the house

and discusses out latest travel plans

another plane ride awaits us

so much more of the globe to view

lunch with my girlfriends

as we discuss my book tour, job promotions

laughing at the times we were young

and poor

then she

my mind

runs back

back to the moments that won’t be forgotten no matter

how hard

I try they still stay vivid

The regrets of how I struggled so much with knowing me

Who I was

In middle school, high

School days a tear filled blur

Of discomfort within my skin

The unspoken words at college

Was I really the influence I wanted to be?

Did I speak the truth when I was supposed to

Have I done enough?

Will I do enough?

Am I doing

Enough?

But no time to think through this

With so much to do

See

Fear.

Oh Mr. Moment

I want to go on a date

Where I soak in your presence like fine wine at a meal

And I listen and absorb

Tipsy in your presence

As I’ve so fully drunk it in

I want to sit in the sun

And listen

And not stop listening

No matter how hard the rain falls later

I think I can’t catch up with you Mr. Moment

You seem to me to be running away

So very fast

But you tell me:

“In your ignorance, you have lapped me

You are the hare

You resent the tortoise

Even though he was victorious.

In your arrogance you run and rage and battle against me

You dream of a date

A sit down meal with me

But its lustful fancy

Your actions tell me so”

And so I miss

Date after date

Enjoying your company

Long chats

Deep rests

And smoke chokes me

Stops me from breathing.

Why can’t I just live right now

Simply with you

Mr. Moment?