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I knew I was strong

This is a silly self-affirmation post.

I joked to my mother, “How do you like your manly daughter?”

The thing is, I come from two lines of women who take care of themselves and their own.  My maternal great-grandmother was left to raise her children alone in the early 20th century.  My paternal grandmother had an abusive/mentally-ill husband.  These things I know because my mother told me.  What I remember is my head-strong Grandma Locklear, who Mom always criticized as being too-controlling.  And I remember my aunt Martha Sue, Mom’s older sister, who walked with her head thrown back as if she were the queen of the world.  And I also remember her anger.  It scared me away as a child, as as an adult, watching my mother, I think her anger came from a biologically embedded place as well as sociological.  I feel it’s pull.

But this is mostly about physical strength.  Most of my jobs (retail) have required some level of strength.  BAM was the worst.  I actually had an awesome body for a bit while working there (didn’t realize it, because as women, we are never satisfied).  But now, after sitting on my ass for a bit, I was shocked to discover I am still physically strong.  I have moved several heavy pieces of furniture in the past few days. stooped quite a bit to clean, and mowed well over an acre (maybe 2) on a riding lawn mower.  Want to know what hurts?  Mild twinge in my right shoulder, slight sun-burn (only half Lumbee) and. . . it doesn’t hurt, but bruise from lawnmower banging my leg.

Mom joked that I will be expected to repair the lawnmover next.

There’s something powerful about being able to do tasks easily.  As much as I want to be the smartest person in the room, I think the back-breaking genes I come from have given me an edge in the species’ pool of mute-strength.  Or maybe I just like that I can do something my brothers complain about, and do it better.

It’s been about a year since my grandma Locklear died.  I never knew my other grandmother, so I’ve tended to try to find myself in the Locklear side.  Mom says I look like my Aunt Bess, which I love, cause she’s mega glamorous.


About clocklearf

I've wanted to be a writer since the third grade.


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