Mother Dearest

You know that awful playground saying, “You have a face only a mother could love?” I have often wondered if the same could be said of my writing. When I take the time to think about it, my mom has been one of the biggest influences on who I am, especially in the early years of my life. Therefore, whether she intended to or not, she has shaped my writing.

I can remember one Christmas when I was probably 7 years old or so, my mom had an interesting idea for a Christmas present to all of the family and friends.  She wanted to give them book of my highly-desired elementary level poetry where I wrote on excitable topics such as being super hungry on a family road trip, wanting to jump in puddles, and wishing the world was made out of candy. I even wrote a little “about the author” page that went something like this:

“My name is Reagan. I am seven years old and in the 2nd grade. I live with my mom, dad, and little sister. Selam. I like to read, do cheer-leading, go outside, and play with friends.”

I mean, who wouldn’t want to take a look at my poetry after reading that rousing autobiography?

This 7 year old poetry book may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of my writing currently. However, my mothers wholehearted support and publication of my writing caused my to operate in the mindset that my writing is something worth being read. I hope to use this as a stepping stone and not a crutch to fall back on.


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