I didn't blog yesterday because Mother's Â Day is a painful day for me. I weighed and measured whether or not to share that pain and I decided that it would be much more mature of me to save it til today. Only a child is allowed to spew their pain all over everyone with no consideration for others. It' s a day of celebration and I'm sure there are many people out there who love their Moms and whose Moms love them. I happen to believe that it is essential to the maturation process to separate from you mother and sometimes that takes feeling some anger, but I didn't think people needed to be reminded of that on Mother's Day. When I was born, I only weighed 3lbs because I was premature. I was premature because my mother smoked and drank during her pregnancy. I spent the first few weeks of my life in and incubator and was given my last rights. That was back in the day when the doctors didn't know about the power of touch, so I lay there by myself for weeks. Â While I was inside her I knew my motherÂ didn't want me, and because of that, I was forced out of my home to early and almost died. Then, I spent the first weeks of my life alone in a cold contraption never being touched.Â Â I am amazed that Â I know how to nurture myself, because there have been studies that babies that don't connect turn into social paths. Â I never really felt Â like IÂ could kill another human being but I definitely felt like I could kill myself until I read that under weight babies tend to get beat more that normal weight babies. And it hit me that maybe I hadn't been trying to kill myself. Maybe, I was just trying to get back in there and cook a little longer. Â The sad part about that is that you can never get back in. I spent a lot of my adult life tryingÂ to get my mother to love me. Through other people or directly with her. Â I read De Koonings biography and he talked about how sometimes he left space with his art so you could see what was already there. That's what I needed, space to see what was really going on, space to to become my own person, the person I was meant to be, not some version of my mothers own self hatred. And, when I took that space I realized that if I had killed myself I would have killed the wrong person.Â It wasn't until I was mature enough toÂ acceptÂ that she may never love me that my life as a woman began. I accepted that maybe my mother was just the vehicle that I came through and whether she's good or not, doesn't really matter if IÂ coninueÂ to try throughout my life to find that bigger connection. A connection so profound that no human can kill.Â Â CreatingÂ a child is one of the most spiritually, artistic act a person can commit because when we create we are the closest to our creator,Â but some people can't tolerate that unbearable lightness of being. Â I'm glad I took my space, because now I might even have space for my own baby but you have to stop being the baby to become the mommy, and just like birth, the only way out is through.