Mothers and Daughters - The Sacred Feminine

Today I remind myself to Just Be Love - open and accepting of my daughter and my self.

She is fifteen and already a diva. Earlier in the year we quarreled so adamently, living in close quarters in our small house as to make me consider moving to an apartment for the next three years; the space was simply too small for the both of us. My soft spoken husband was caught in between this battle of strong female will, both of us creating: me with my writing, her with her music. I always thought my background in yoga would make it obvious, easy to raise a young woman with love. Her attitude then was the ultimate test: she could pick out and expose my weaknesses as a person and a woman faster than anyone. I was constantly being asked to relinquish control, and I found that near impossible.

And then she was flat on her back, in pain, in the hospital, and there was literally nothing I could do about it. I was forced to realize my daughter's own expression of her individuality - in terms of her pain, her physical issue that were beyond my control. I let go then, and when she came out of emergency surgery, alive and smiling our relationship entered a new phase.

We still have the normal generational arguments - she tells me I wear "hippie clothes" and knows she can melt me into giving her practically anything in my power with the word "mommy" and a certain look she gives me with her large, brown eyes. But we've enterd a phase where there's a new respect between us; I've learned to not take up so much space with my dramatic interpretations of life that irritate her so much, (she will be annoyed by today's blog most likely.) She seems easier on me when I push less. I'm realizing how quickly our time together as mother and teen aged daughter is passing. I'm trying to appreciate it for what it is: we enjoy movies, books and tea together. I know that's a relationship based mainly on food, and literary analysis. She's informed me repeatedly she will never major in English and be a writer, and I've learned to be okay with that, to accept her as the scientist with a penchant for singing, her, the her that she is, and that is still developing.

Sometimes when we are together I look at her in complete awe, as the mini-diva she is, her own diva, her own self. She's realizing her own power in being a woman, and that is a miracle.

I'm letting go, letting go, letting go...