{ unspoken pride } - yogi. photographer. mama. austin, tx.

I'm reading a memoir now, I'm fairly certain that memoirs are my favorite books. I talk all the time about writing my own. Because there is something so lovely about knowing the history of my own family, I want my girls to have the chance to read about me when they are grown. The reason I mention the book I am currently reading is that it has been evoking all of these tiny seedling memories inside me. As I let them sit and visit me, even as I journal about them, it is clear they have had some deep impact that has been part of the molding of my worldview.




If you said it, I didn't hear.
If I didn't hear, I'm sorry.
He said it once. In the tractor while I helped drive.
For a moment I was brilliant.
Smart became important, smart became salvation.
Without smart I was condemned.
I let you down even in the day I chose to come to the earth.
You remind me.
Wrong in my gender, my manners, my volume, my touch.
Even smart could not impress you.
Rebellion.
I could not achieve, so I decided to no longer need.
There were times it felt close.
Those were followed by "but."
It might not have hurt so much if I had not admired you more than any other.
You felt it somewhere inside.
I tell myself you feel it now.

Today I said it three times.
Tomorrow I will say it six.
I will draw those words out of hiding and splay them in light.
I will make them heard. Felt.
They will know.





I have the most beautiful girls, the sweetest, sometimes smelliest, but without a doubt the most extraordinary, wonderful, young women. I adore them so much, I am so proud of them.