New Awareness

It's an interesting thing to be a fair-skinned woman with a dark-skinned baby on your hip. Daniel never resembled me either, but Violet's skin is even darker - and the social awareness is more pronounced.

I read so many (too many) articles about what it means/feels like to place your family on the platform of "interracial classification" in the public eye. And I thought I understood it - until I walked through the mall for the first time with Violet.

She and I draw attention, to say the least. And at first, (believe me, I hate admitting this), it made me uncomfortable. I felt the gaze of every African-American person who walked by and assumed they were judging me or thinking negatively towards me. I became nearly paranoid, making sure every strand of hair on Violet's hair was perfectly coiled and that her clothes and accessories looked nice. I could hear their thoughts in my head - "What is SHE doing with a beautiful black baby? That baby doesn't look happy enough. What a shame... that little girl should be with a black family."

What's even stranger is I began putting that judgment on myself - suddenly realizing my hair looked messy, or my clothes rumpled. I didn't look "fit" to mother this beautiful baby, and surely someone who looked like me would never be able to care for the skin and hair of an African child.

I feel ridiculous even now as I type this... how much wasted energy I must have spent worrying about imaginary issues.

I have decided to chalk up all that paranoia to the transition of learning to be Violet's mother - a transition I am exiting in favor of a more permanent stage: BEING Violet's mother.

No one was thinking those thoughts towards us... except me. Weeks later, after being approached by women of EVERY color who had nothing but kind, encouraging, doting words for my beautiful baby, I realize my error in projecting my own self-judgement on others. I had to come to the place of horrific realization: I didn't think I was a good mom for Violet, because my skin is too light. I was ashamed of myself.

It's funny what the public eye does to you. At home, I am color blind. I actually startled myself the other day while clipping Violet's fingernails - I looked down at our hands and was amazed at how dark she was - I had honestly forgotten she was black. But one step out our front door and the awareness is heightened.

Thankfully, all this is changing. My overwhelming pride in her is taking over any irrational fears of judgment. I love being in public with her - especially in the sling. I love watching people process our family as we walk by - there aren't words for how much I love our identity as an interracial family - not one the same as another.

And instead of avoiding eye contact, I find myself seeking it out, looking for chances to exchange smiles with other moms. I love being approached by African-American women who want to love on Violet, hear her story and pass on words of wisdom regarding hair and skin care. I love how much I love her... this crazy love that makes my heart want to explode.

The joy I am finding in being a mother is growing by the day - Daniel's mom, and Violet's mom. It's changing everything about me, for the better. I am overcoming old obstacles and developing a kind of healthy self-awareness I have never had.

It's just funny that God used a tiny black baby to make me the woman I should have been along.