I am a mother. I do not limit my children to those who have come from me; everything is my child. This is nothing I chose; this is only something I have realized, recognized, and come to terms with.
I am not flawless, but nobody is, and so I do not hold that against myself and, instead, do what I can to recognize flaws and adapt myself into a greater mother.
I and my children often come against threats, and I am the first to be willing to sacrifice anything to save them. The only reason I am not dead or imprisoned is the dumb luck of not being nearby as somebody beats my child.
I don't want to pull the trigger, but I will do so without delay if it is needed for my child.
There is an innate violence in this body of mine. It is a violence born from frustration, frustration born from regret, regret for how little there is I can do to bring a peace I and my children can enjoy. The only reason I am not dead or imprisoned is the dumb luck of not being nearby as somebody beats my child.
I do not want to pull that trigger, but when I do, if I do,
I will regret it most, but I will not be the only one who will regret it.
