Today is Mother's Day.
My mother's name means victory.
She smells like a proper, hard-working woman, but also a pristine chrysanthemum.
I type this with a burnt tea tongue for and to my lovely, lovely mom.
My mother supports feminism, masculinism, and me.
She taught me how to speak, how to run, how to love, how to feel.
I love my mother.
I miss being 8 when you would tuck me in, but I miss yesterday when you told me how to deal with a mishap.
My family isn't in any way organised or perfect, but you do your best to put us in line like toy soldiers.
Sometimes I fall out with her, we get into fights a lot.
I hate crying in front of her, it makes me insecure.
I hate when she gets mad at me, my heart shakes when her voice drills the car.
But without her my life would be different, I would be a selfish, spoilt girl who isn't strong and doesn't have common sense.
Although she won't understand this, she gave up half her life to move from her homeland to the country whose tongue she can't understand,
I want to scream out,
I LOVE YOU, MOM.
Happy Mother's Day to the sweetest, most-hardworking mother in this eternity.
xoxo,
F C