Different Strokes Poem by Traquita Thomas

I remember the night you were born.
Cleaned up and swaddled in a soft pink cocoon.
Holding you close, sweet newness emanated from your forehead
Dreams of tea parties, shopping trips and girl bondings
I dressed you pink and frilly.
Until you said you’d rather lick toilets than wear dresses.
I pushed Barbie, you pushed Tonka trucks.
No canopy bed for you.
A fire engine red bunk bed graced your room.
Everyone said you’d grow out of tomboy things.
I waited for the Fairy Godmother to sprinkle girly dust over you.
She never came.
Your clothes engulfed you.
The bigger and baggier the better.
Favoring pants with pockets for your tools.
Fixing leaky toilets and putting together my stereo equipment.
Beautiful hair intricately locked.
Face unadorned, tough guy attitude.
I stealthily listened to your phone conversation one night.
Co-conspirator to an Ellen Degeneares moment.
Air rushed from my lungs.
I cried.
I was afraid.
Afraid for you and any mistreatment you might receive.
Afraid that I would be ashamed explaining your choices to my peers.
I threw in the God aspect.
“God made me this way, how could He be wrong? ”
I don’t cry anymore and I know no shame.
I want for you what any mother wants.
That you find true love and happiness.
Do what fulfills you.
Be safe and have peace in your life.
When you find the right partner choose the perfect sperm donor.
You will not lifestyle me out of grandchildren.