Asking for what I want is hard to do. I think that I must have possessed the skill at one point because I witness three little bodies asking me for what they want ALL.DAY.LONG and then subsequently getting mad and upset if they don’t get what they want.
This is one of my biggest triggers as a mother. I see their asking and anger as signs of unearned entitlement and unjustified righteousness.
Growing up, I had very little and that was that. I don’t know if I ever asked for what I wanted because there was never a lot of money. I remember wanting to go on a trip to Europe with my friends in high school but I didn’t even think to ask my mom – partially because I knew (assumed) she was going to say no and partially because I didn’t feel like it was right for me to ask for so much money all for myself.
And I know that this is something that I absorbed back in the womb. When my mother was pregnant with me, she was afraid to ask for even an extra egg to eat not only because of limited resources but because of power dynamics within the family.
And so here I am, trying to re-learn this skill, re-tracing my steps back to a time when my gait was half skip/half walk and my sense of righteousness and entitlement were strong because asking for what I want is indeed a right.
I write everyday because it allows me to voice what is at the surface. Once that is out of my head, I can dig in another layer deeper. My daily writing practice has been my greatest exploration of self and humanity. Sign up here to receive these thought nuggets in your inbox on the daily.