Black Lives Matter

by Ashley filed under Racial Injustice

In my healing from my divorce, the number one takeaway has been that I cannot change anyone but myself. And that there’s no sense in trying to convince others of my reality; that serenity is always going to come from within and is something I grant myself as opposed to waiting on someone else to change or validate my reality so that I can in-turn be serene. And yet, I can’t bridge the gap between those lessons in my personal life with what is currently going on in the world. It’s like they say, there comes a time when silence is betrayal and not using my voice is a disservice. I’m willing to sacrifice my serenity by sharing my understanding and possibly losing friends because of it. Maybe that’s self righteous to say. In any event, I have a lot to learn – we all do – but I refuse to choose the comfort of silence so I’m going to address two things I’ve addressed in my own home these past few weeks.

1. The bizarre counter movement of All Lives Matter in response to Black Lives Matter. If all lives mattered, we wouldn’t need the BLM movement. It’s really that simple. All lives don’t matter UNTIL Black lives matter. Think of a child with a broken leg. The child needs help. We direct our attention to the child and his / her broken leg. Surely that doesn’t mean that your child’s legs don’t matter. Your child’s legs aren’t broken. BLM does not mean only black lives matter. And if you’re getting it twisted, perhaps it’s time to google white fragility.

2. Last week I took my boys to a BLM paddle out in our town of San Clemente. During one of the speeches an old white man drove his motorized scooter intentionally through the crowd while honking his horn in an attempt to distract / cause a scene. I thought to myself: wow, it’s 2020 and we still live in a world where an old white man is so uncomfortable by a black man getting the mic that he has to divert attention back onto himself. And then I thought to myself: wow, the fact I only have to be shocked by that as opposed to having to live day in and day out with that is my privilege. The more I learn about privilege, the more I come to see the ways it’s padded my existence and skewed my perception. I have a lot of unlearning to do.

Mother’s Day

by Ashley filed under Motherhood

Nothing has solidified my role as mother more than single motherhood. The past year has been one of adjustment and growing pains; causing me to reach deeper within but also proving that the more I dig inward, the more I’ve been able to put out. Haha, “put out”. The other day Hooper and Van laid in bed with me, cuddled me, and told me so genuinely that they loved me. I know it because they say it but I truly know it because I feel it. I played Bob Dylan’s “make you feel my love” for them and let tears of gratitude roll down my cheeks. There’s nothing that has given my life more meaning than to raise my boys, to really evaluate what it means to love them — what it translates to. Love as a verb and not a noun, an action. An everyday sacrifice.

I haven’t thought about romantic love much at all since my divorce. My pull is toward myself; the more I see myself become whole, the more I see I’m able to give. And receive. I’m marrying me these days. Dating my boys. And letting the crumbs fall where they may, knowing that we are solid.

Hooper, Van, & Sonny — you three are my everything. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, except for what you can do for yourself. Ain’t that what I always say?

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mamas out there. And especially to all the single mothers. I didn’t know until I knew, and man, the boat is always rocking but the anchor always holds. I see you.