So someone frowned at my baby yesterday. I cannot get the image out of my head. It haunts me like a broken melody. I am deeply disturbed by it.
When I say I see people. I do. Sometimes I see them before I even meet them, and wonder what it is God is showing me until He reveals it later.
So the person that frowned at my daughter I saw her. Well I saw the effects she is soon going to have on a person, before I even knew she existed.
She frowned at my baby though.
Unrighteousness has a way of having a hard time hiding itself around the innocents. The babies, the children.
That’s why I have used my daughter to choose my friends. If she connects with them, I know they are good for my spirit. If she doesn’t, well I know she sees people the same way I do.
So while this person is scrunching their nose up at my baby the person making the introductions could not see her reaction because as usual he was engaging my daughter.
They say love is blind.
Maybe not love, but definitely lust.
I begin to think of all the possibilities an overgrown woman would frown at a child.
Could it be the brightness of my daughters skin? To some brown people that have been taught to hate them selves for the color of their skin and haven’t quite gotten over their own teasings as a child for the names I remember all too well and know didn’t end or begin with me, her yellow skin is a reminder of how other people never thought them good enough.
When I watched her coming out I wondered how I would raise my daughter to focus on being good, and not pretty as many people are apt to tell her she is. I wondered if I would ever catch that ‘jealous of my own child’ syndrome that so many women I knew had so they would in turn allow their girls to overeat to cover a coming shape, or never buy them clothes as good as the ones they wore, or comb their heads while their own went flawless.
I prayed that would never overtake me.
I was assured after praying that if I constantly remember how my mother raised me to love myself even when others were calling me too dark and too black and saying I wasn’t as pretty as my mother was. She constantly reminded me that I was beautiful. She wanted my skin color, it was an object of strong desire. My exotic almond shaped eyes were everything in comparison to her ordinary and average ones is what she would say. She reminded me everytime I came to her with doubts how special I truly was.
So I undertake my task with my daughter with vigor. I love her with everything I have, so to see another woman frowning at her shakes me up. I mean rattles me. I mean reminds me that I have only been saved for a year now. Old ‘Rae-Rae’ dying for a reason to come back to life. Its almost summer time too. Her season.
Nah chile. Hush yo mouth. Sit still and wait on the Lord. He is faithful.
Ahhh then a revelation hit me. Maybe that frown had nothing to do with my daughter at all. Maybe it was a reminder that she has no children and the one that introduced her does have a daughter. She has to think about the possibility of whenever, if ever, she and he truly takes their relationship up a notch, she is going to have to be a stepmother. Or in the words of Steve Harvey, a mother.
It takes a special woman to love a man’s child the way she loves herself. But then it also takes a woman that loves herself. You always know a woman that loves herself because a picture is worth a thousand words she never really uses her body to get the attention her mind deserves. No back shots. We maintain dignity as ladies presenting ourselves as queens to a king. I know. I spent enough years of my life dips in my shirts low enough to show bras, stomachs, and skirts short enough to almost see under garments. Enough years and too little dignity to cause Kings to take flight and push me out of thrones like Vashti.
Thank you Jesus for change. My baby slowed my whole roll.
So here I think about the situation. A woman that has to take a man’s child on into a relationship. Baby Momma love, no drama, just love. The same woman that is willing to spend half her life savings on a man and not willing to spend a dollar on his baby. Yeah, these are the breaks.
My daughter’s father has a lot of children. A lot of women. A lot of options. She gets her personality mostly from him, he’s a lot of fun, and he practically dances better than Michael did, so life of the party is an understatement. He is the party. If he were a box he would be a party in a box.
One year one of his many girlfriends took him across the world, well to Atlanta. She allowed him to live in her condo, drive her spare car. They were living it up. I just couldn’t understand how she could do so much for him know he had children and not see what those children needed as well. Because when you love a man you love every part of him even the ones that came before you did. So how quickly I sat with foot in my mouth when she opened her doors for them on my baby’s second Christmas and my child got a chance to spend time with her brother and sister and came home bearing gifts. That’s what I’m talking about. A baby momma’s girlfriend. If you with the man, you with the children too.
I didn’t have to like the momma’s when he and I first got together, I didnt need to know them. When he was in my life, I didn’t do for his children because I didn’t do for him. He helped me buy my car, paid my notes, sound systems, TV’s in the dash, and hanging from the ceiling of the car. Really dude, this is a bit much, but thanks. Let me get treated. Everything that glitters ain’t gold, but lets focus on his positive traits for today.
However, I couldn’t see children because I had none myself. Until mine came. Then I was on him about making sure he spent time with his children when they came into the city.
So here I am wondering how does a woman do for a man without doing for his children. Easy. It is when a woman has failed to come to know love in the way that Jesus outlined love. Not looking for one’s own interests has a person looking outside the box of material things to the things that will impact the other person’s heart. The things that will help build them up. But if love has always been based on things, then a person will only know how to love based on their experiences.
So I guess my assignment for my daughter is much bigger than even I can imagine. I have to teach her to love in ways that I am just now learning how to. Love with no desire of return. Love just to love. Love without fail. Understanding that in our imperfection we make mistakes but we pull it in eventually. So still love. But most importantly, never let anyone feel bad about what you have that they don’t or what you don’t have that they do. Her love may go outside the box or normalcy. It may have to. Jesus’ love did.
All I know is to all my baby’s mommas’ girlfriends or especially these stepmothers turned mothers to children they never birthed I give a sincere thank you. It is you who is building up the world teaching us as women how to love based on the principle not what is measured back to us in return by the things you can see. It is all of you that keeps our family system built up and not torn apart creating distance between people that need each other. Daughters need fathers, as do sons. So to the women that help build instead of destroy I raise a glass of cool crisp detox water to you. The more we flush out self hatred, the more we learn to love in a real way. Then maybe grown women won’t frown at little girls, because they have learned in their own insecurities to keep their noses turned up at other women.
Although my daughters father loves a woman that is not a baby’s momma girlfriend once again. I pray that one day he will find someone that teaches him the importance of standing as a man bearing the weight of his responsibilities, and teaches him to fish instead of always supplying his needs and keeping his table full.
It takes a real woman to do that. And until you are really really real with yourself, who you are and what you truly believe in by finding yourself before you try and lure a man with your flesh enticing his flesh then we can’t talk building up communities. Because until that happens it is really going to always be that. Just talk.
Idle conversation of a perverse mind pretending to be the allure and light transforming themselves as our great enemy does, into angels of light. It’s almost like pig on pig reenactments, throwing pearls to swine.
So maybe truly it wasn’t any of the above reasons why my baby was frowned at. Maybe it was seeing her bright light, the light being shined on darkness and that squint one makes when the light hits them after being in darkness for so long. Whooo. There it is. That is much better. I feel better. I was mistaken, she wasn’t frowning. She was just adjusting to my daughter’s light.
Now that’s an explanation I can accept.