Tonight, Mother put her arms around me
And she hugged me tight,
So tight, she wouldn’t let go.
Tonight, she put the broken pieces inside me together.
And I couldn’t help but break down in her arms.
She told me it was okay to not be okay.
And after what felt like a lifetime,
I took a deep breath
and stopped pretending.
I had been fighting for too long.
Perhaps there was no fight left in me.
Between streaming tears and a fragile breaking heart,
I heard her gently say:
“You are not weak, for I have made you strong.”
Don’t you see what you are made of?
But, my mother is a warrior,
And so were the women who came before her.
The same blood courses through my veins.
That same fire rages in my belly.
Warrior or not, tomorrow I will
Wake up once more and try.
I’ll be nothing less of a warrior,
I refuse to be otherwise.
I owe it to the women who came before me,
And the ones who come after.
But most importantly, Mother, I owe it to you.
You were right all along:
Yes, you have made me strong.
The writer is a Biotechnology graduate from the USA.