Nobody Made Me Ask (The Art of Being Mothered)

I am leaving for Dubai (Im drafting this to be published before my trip, but we will see if that actually happens).

My very 1st international trip by myself. The longest flight I have ever taken + Im having some major feelings around it.

I wanted to carry on only. As a chronic over-packer I was determined to not stress over luggage. Multiple legs, + the thought of my bag ending up in a city I was not in was not a game I wanted to play. That seemed like a gift to myself until I actually started packing. Somehow I needed to fit eight days into a carry on + sitting on the floor surrounded by my things the Sunday night before my Tuesday flight had me realizing there was NO version of this that would work.

What happened next was nothing short of a miracle + I want to list out what happened because the list is the whole point.

Two friends offered me luggage. Not one. Two. Then they dropped it off. Didnt even wait for me to confirm if I wanted them or not. Literally sent me a message they were downstairs so I could come + grab what I needed. Both of them. And neither is in the same friend group.

Somebody gave me noise canceling headphones. Said there was zero way I could travel that distance (18hrs each way) without them.

Somebody else sent me money for a drink at each of the airports I would be in for the duration of my trip.

Then there was the “Lemme Sleep” sleep aid fiasco. I was building this big ball of stress around the idea of being jet lagged + in a new time zone unable to sleep. I went to 3 different stores with no luck. One of my friends asked me to share a picture of what I was looking for + not only did she go look for me, she found it + dropped it off to me.

I didnt ask for a single one of those things.

The part I need you to understand

What actually happened is people that truly care about my wellbeing being asked me how things were going + I told them the truth. No candy coat, no light half truths. My homegirl asked me if I was packed + I said I dont think I have what I need to travel that far. I didnt put much thought into the response actually.

As I reflect writing this now, each one of these ladies have created a space within our relationships that I don’t have to be anyone or anything outside of myself. I can say this shit is hard, I don’t know how to move forward + they will hold space for me. Remind me of who I am, all I’ve done.

The whole mechanism was + is truth. I did not ask for anything. I simply didnt put my mask on + stopped saying I was good when I wasnt. Trust was created where honesty left the door open for them to walk in.

The days leading up to this trip really reflected back to me all that I have created in my life + the relationships that have been cultivated as a biproduct.

Truth Moment? I have spent years telling women to let people help them + I would not have picked up the phone myself when I needed help. Very much do as I say not as I do lol. Why do we do that? We can easily tell someone else about the medicine but not take it ourselves.

What those days leading up actually felt like

Seen. Simply put, that is the word that keeps coming up.

Not helped. Helped feels really transactional to me. Helped is a favor, helped is something you owe back. This was something entirely different. It was being known well enough that people heard a thing I did not say + moved towards it with no expectations.

I also want to be honest about the timing of everything. A few days before all of this, I did not know if any of this was going to work out. Not the packing, not the trip, not alot of things. There were several hiccups along the way that I was really like Im not sure what is about to happen. And then my community showed up. Without request. Handling me in such a way that was like oh yea they know me.

They have no idea. I am fairly sure not one of those women thinks she did anything notable. They will read this + be surprised lol. That is what makes it what this is.

Why does this matter

I was not mothered growing up. Not directly, not consistently. I didnt grow up in warmth or care.

My parents were babies when they had me. Barely twenty. I am the eldest daughter + like many eldest daughters I was parentified early, a very fancy way of saying I became an adult before I was done being a child.

The one person who truly mothered me was my grandmother Bernice. And I did not get much of her. Two weekends a month when I was small. Then once a month. Then every few months. Finally she came to live with us when I was in the ninth grade. By the time I was in the 11th grade she was in a living facility.

So I learned what mothering was in doses. Enough to know the taste of it. To recognize it but not enough to ever expect it.

And then I grew up + built a career out of giving people the thing I did not get. A Full Spectrum Doula. Standing in birth rooms with women who have nobody, being the one who says you are capable, you are doing it, I am not leaving. Postpartum Support. Coaching. Going into people’s homes + handling the rhythm of their household so a parent can sit down with or without their baby.

All of it is the same thing. I have been mothering people for a living.

What I did not expect… being mothered

I did not expect to be on the receiving end of it, on a floor, surrounded by clothes that would not fit in a bag. Days before one of the biggest trips of my life, missing key things that would help the trip be unforgettable.

And I did not expect the mothering to hit me the way it did.

Because here is the thing about being the one that shows up. You get very good at it. You get so good at it that people stop wondering whether you need anything. Your competence becomes the reason nobody checks. That is not their fault. It is the deal you made without knowing you were making it.

So when somebody checks anyway, when somebody hears the thing under the thing, it does not feel like a favor.

It feels like being mothered.

What I am taking with me

I got on a flight with borrowed luggage, headphones someone gave me, sleep aids a friend drove across town for + money for drinks at every gate.

None of that is about the stuff.

It is proof that I built something real, and it was not the business. It was the people. And I got to find out because for once I told the truth when somebody asked me how I was doing.

That is the smallest thing + it opened everything.

If you are the one that shows up, + you are reading this doing the math on whether you could ever ask, do not ask. You + I both know you wont, but at least stop saying you are fine when you arent.

See what happens when you give people a chance to embrace your truth.

XO

Denawa Deniece