Dear Couple on the Elevator,
The couple with the insults poorly veiled as compliments. The ones with one last dig before you hopped off about coconut oil. The ones who think that because you are black you can say anything you want to me about my black daughter. You caught me completely off guard. Our family of five were joyfully heading up to the pool deck after dinner for some mini golf and Beauty and the Beast when you both decided to speak to Gabre about her hair.
I have started this letter to you many times since that night, but it wasn't a love letter. My anger was still protecting me from my pain.
You see, you hurt me that night. You criticized the thing I think that hurts many women the most- you criticized my ability to mother.
What I wanted to say to you that night through my tears cried alone in the cruise ship bathroom was that I am trying my best. I have read books, watched videos, joined groups and sought advice from women of color with whom I have relationship.
What I wanted to say was that you have no idea of the history and the trauma of my child. You have no idea the hours where the two of us both cried because everything was knotted up and I didn't know what to do.
What I wanted to say was that you don't know how much this little girl now loves for her mama to do her hair. How often we get compliments from women of color. How there are no longer tears but fun and experimenting together when it is hair time.
What I wanted to say was that you don't know how this little girl dreams of long hair. How once when her hair had gotten so unhealthy because I couldn't quite figure things out, we cut it short and she mourned the loss of that hair. How she loves how it is growing out and when she swims she loves to have it down to feel it on her back. It brings her such joy and I know the cost to her hair- but her joy is worth it.
What I wanted to say was that on this night she finally let her older sister do her hair- an important thing for them and that while no it wasn't perfect- it was perfect to them.
Because while you know so much more about black hair, I know so much more about this precious child. And I will continue to do all I can to seek women of color to speak into both of our lives, but you are a stranger to me so your words were only hurtful.
But this is a love letter, so what I want to say to you now Dear Couple on the Elevator is this- I realize in your hurtful words you had a need to protect my daughter and I am grateful for that. I am even more grateful for the women in my life who have lovingly come beside us and I offer this letter to them in love and thanksgiving. Adoption has way more complexities that I could have even imagined, but at the end of the day what is left for me through adoption is a son and a daughter.
I pray the world can remember that and offer us love over judgement.
Love,
Me
The couple with the insults poorly veiled as compliments. The ones with one last dig before you hopped off about coconut oil. The ones who think that because you are black you can say anything you want to me about my black daughter. You caught me completely off guard. Our family of five were joyfully heading up to the pool deck after dinner for some mini golf and Beauty and the Beast when you both decided to speak to Gabre about her hair.
I have started this letter to you many times since that night, but it wasn't a love letter. My anger was still protecting me from my pain.
You see, you hurt me that night. You criticized the thing I think that hurts many women the most- you criticized my ability to mother.
What I wanted to say to you that night through my tears cried alone in the cruise ship bathroom was that I am trying my best. I have read books, watched videos, joined groups and sought advice from women of color with whom I have relationship.
What I wanted to say was that you have no idea of the history and the trauma of my child. You have no idea the hours where the two of us both cried because everything was knotted up and I didn't know what to do.
What I wanted to say was that you don't know how much this little girl now loves for her mama to do her hair. How often we get compliments from women of color. How there are no longer tears but fun and experimenting together when it is hair time.
What I wanted to say was that you don't know how this little girl dreams of long hair. How once when her hair had gotten so unhealthy because I couldn't quite figure things out, we cut it short and she mourned the loss of that hair. How she loves how it is growing out and when she swims she loves to have it down to feel it on her back. It brings her such joy and I know the cost to her hair- but her joy is worth it.
What I wanted to say was that on this night she finally let her older sister do her hair- an important thing for them and that while no it wasn't perfect- it was perfect to them.
Because while you know so much more about black hair, I know so much more about this precious child. And I will continue to do all I can to seek women of color to speak into both of our lives, but you are a stranger to me so your words were only hurtful.
But this is a love letter, so what I want to say to you now Dear Couple on the Elevator is this- I realize in your hurtful words you had a need to protect my daughter and I am grateful for that. I am even more grateful for the women in my life who have lovingly come beside us and I offer this letter to them in love and thanksgiving. Adoption has way more complexities that I could have even imagined, but at the end of the day what is left for me through adoption is a son and a daughter.
I pray the world can remember that and offer us love over judgement.
Love,
Me
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