Angel Eyes

By simply taking the time to think about my emotional state and why I may be so easily triggered in distinct circumstances helps me develop emotional stability. I must admit that I have some pretty dramatic ways. I was raised in a home where bitterness resided just as much, or even more than, peace. My mama is as old-school as they come, which is no diss to her or anyone in her generation (1940s), just the unembellished truth.

Growing up, I remember having anger fits, usually resulting in me destroying my own property–my games, phone, really anything nearby. I’d thought that by wrecking things, which caused instant regret, would help in ridding myself of that intense frustration. Instead, it exacerbated the fireball that lived inside of me.

Over the years, I recognized that I was mimicking the behavior that I’d seen all-too often in my home and by the person that I’d interacted with the most: my mother. She walked around with a scowl, yelled more than talked, and always seemed to be in a panic. I didn’t understand it when I was young. But now that I’ve grown and gotten a chance to learn the ways of people, I’ve chalked it up to that simply being her nature. 

It’s taken great practice to get into the swing of mastering my inner voice, having patience with myself, and having emotional control. Fortunately, I’ve had the ability to influence my mother’s thoughts surrounding her own attitude. I inspire her to be positive and to starve the seeds of her anger. I’m fully aware that aging can bang on the emotional door quite often, and if not managed in healthy ways, could turn an ordinarily sweet person into a grouch. As much as possible, I try to lead by example. I offer mama sweet smiles or surprise her by playing her favorite tunes with as much bass as my Echo can muster–anything that can keep her spirits lifted.

It’s a challenge. Mama is incredibly stubborn–her gift and curse. I’m busy navigating through my own life while helping my mom age as healthy as possible and it’s madly difficult and unpredictable. Juggling both my life and hers weighs heavily on my shoulders, which could be overwhelming at times… but its brings me purpose.

Being a ball of anger wasn’t me; I was conditioned to react only in that manner. Those days are no more. When I was ready to peel back those protective layers and expose the real me, I found a young and kind soul, a heart full of love and patience, deserving  to be shared. I’ve realized that there’s grand beauty in being soft and kind…and in letting yourself be vulnerable.




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