I will want to start off by saying, I absolutely love and respect my mother wholeheartedly. As write, I AM SPEAKING MY TRUTH!! I must say growing up in South, meant every woman that you came in contact with was like your Mommy. It didn't matter if it was Hattie Mae next door, or Sarah, the cashier from the grocery store. If you got out of line, there was some woman there to set you straight! As I reflect,I can't remember my mom playing with me much as child.I had toys and dolls to play with but I not much interaction with her. I do remember my my Mom in the kitchen cooking great meals and baking for us, and being a part of the Girl Scout Brownie Troop! Going to the store to pick out clothes and shoes with her was always a task, I did not enjoy much.I could remember my mom saying, “you can't wear certain colors because of they don't look good on your skin.” Yes, I am a dark skinned Sista! I rarely could pick out things that I really liked! Luckily, family and friends of the family, like my godmother would purchase outfits for me that were more to my liking.There were times when I would dress myself and ended up changing because it wasn't to my mothers liking. To this day, she still criticizes what I wear sometimes. Do As I Say, Not As I Do:Growing up everything was, do as I say! Mommy, Can I..… No….Why…because I Said So! No real explanation of why I could not play with my friends down the street sometimes, or why can't I have a sleepover. Many questions went unanswered. So much so, that I stop asking and started just doing. The lies and rebellion started and the consequences were extensive! Sometimes the words were worse than the beatings. All because, I had to do what was said and with no questions asked. Unanswered questions, a Voiceless Voice.I really wish there was some explanations to The Who, What, When, Why, and especially How! There were things that I asked but ended up getting the answer from someone else or figuring out myself. My mom yelled and expressed herself clearly, but not me. Rebel…..Rebel:Since I couldn't do what I wanted to I begin to rebel, only when I felt strongly about something I wanted to do or express. The rebellion went from wearing shorts under my skirts….. to fighting my aunt when she attempted to make a mockery out of me. Yes, I suffered the consequences each time. At an early age, I begin to hate, and resent my life, asking, “Why Me!” Then someone would come along (good or bad) and remind me of how special or try to make me feel special, proving, I am not my Mother's child… Although I rebelled, during the process I felt like Sister Souljah, standing up for what was right in my eyes. Being a black girl in a 2 parent home, can still be dysfunctional. In many cases, my dad was my savior from my mom. He would take my friends and I places like the skating rink, and even “trick a treating” at Halloween.My mom rarely did those things, but when she did the moments were priceless. I personally feel, it's during the rebellious stage, a girl decides to set goals, and say, “I can't wait until I am on my own!”, or “forget what they say, I am still going to do what I want!” I Know She Love Me But She Never Tells Me So: I rarely heard, “I love you”, linger through my house! At times my dad said it, but I never can recall hearing it from my mom. As I got older, (meaning teenage and young adult life), I begin to share my love through words with my Mom, and I would share my appreciation for her. My Mom shared with me, that when she found out she was pregnant with me, she was very upset. She expressed her frustration to the doctor, and the doctor told her, “well have an abortion!” She said, even though she didn't want another baby she walked right out of that doctors office never to return again. That was Love!! She said, as she would go for her routine checkups with another doctor miles away, she wasn't sure of I was conceived! She shared with me, the doctor would say to her, “trust me, you will know when it's time.” Mom said, I was the only child that gave her pain! Now, I understand why! Through all the pain, I was created in love!! Mommy expressed her love for me in other ways, by making my favorite lunch or letting my friends come over for a while. I knew she loved me but she was too busy falling in love with Jesus at times!! I Am Not My Mother's Daughter: I agree, it takes a village to raise a child! I am not my Mother's child simply because it took a village. My Mom did only what she knew or thought was best. She reflects about how she was raised. She never knew her father, and has expressed how she didn't care to know. Deep down inside, I know she did.I have heard so many other stories from people who can definitely relate to the mother daughter strained relationship. Although,I endured the pain of rejection, I can honestly say the journey of healing has been more of a positive impact.I will continue to love on my Mom, rather good or bad, and remind her of how I appreciate her.