A Letter to My Daughter

Today, in meditation/yoga, I realized the power that a mother-daughter relationship has on the history of an entire family tree. Hurt daughters turn into hurt mothers. So ladies, heal yourselves. It’s a long, scary journey but for the sake of your daughter, you have to do it. The women in my family hail from women who ingrained negativity in their hearts. You can see the urge to resist the message tracks that have been laid since the days of slavery. You’re pretty, you’re light skinned, you’re a dancer, you’re better than them. When in essence, no one is better than anyone else.

The sooner mothers can teach their daughters that they do not sit on a throne any higher than the next woman, then the sooner we can return to the tribal queens we always were. I can imagine this mentality originated in the halls of the big house. Mistresses had to side step little girls who did not ask to be here that hailed from the same sac their own children did. They resented innocent little hearts who captured the full wonder of their father, despite who her mother was. Mistresses-- that as much as they resented their husband’s lying and predatory ways, could not deny the face this little girl has is the same one that lays in bed next to them each night. It must have been hard to accept that your children are now equal to who you convinced yourself was your inferior. It turns out, who your man was sneaking away to see was not an animal. She’s a woman--just like you. Her daughter is a precious little girl, just like yours.

Understanding that back in those big house halls is where the proverbial, “hurt people, hurt people” cycle began. Those mistresses treated those mulatto little girls as if they were their worst enemy. Taking the suppressed anger for their husbands out on innocent little girls that did not ask to be here. Well, what happened to those little girls? They modeled the behavior demonstrated on them to their own daughters. They parroted the divisive language that resonated the halls of the big house to their children. The same separatist, “you’re better than them because you have light skin" mentality was passed down through exhaustive, abusive talk cycles. So many little girls grew up robbed of the ability to form judgements of their girlfriends at school based on the content of their character.

So the light skinned Jennifers and Sarahs elected to bypass relationships with Regina and Aniya simply because they were dark skinned. They struggled with their mother’s philosophy ringing in their ears as they ran the recess yard. The Jennifers and Sarahs all loved the way Regina and Aniya made them feel, but the tresses of their imagination were restricted to the four walls of the sandbox. Beyond the recess yard, Jennifer and Sarah had to maintain their position as better than their playmates. So, what did they do? They took every opportunity to slander Regina and Aniya’s name through the mud whenever possible.

Here is where we learn that hate and love are the same emotion. We have been taught to hate ourselves for all the things that make us who we are. Our melanated skin is what makes us Black. If we resent the largest organ on our body, the skin--then how the hell we gone love a tiny heart? So, instead, we lean into what is expected of us. Jennifer and Sarah assume the position that has been unfairly placed upon them. They love the freedom and fun that Regina and Aniya bring to their lives. However, every achievement beyond the sandbox these dark skinned girls make, triggers the souls of their light skinned counterparts. Why? Well, Regina and Aniya are not coloring in the lines their dearly beloved mothers drew. So, the mothers continue to explain Regina and Aniya’s achievements as luck, pity, sorrow or handouts. Jennifer and Sarah find reprieve in those explanations for a while. Until Regina and Aniya defy the odds once more. As the limit continues to get surpassed by these brown beauties, the beige naysayers reconstruct the ceiling. Jennifer and Sarah will continuously explain their friends success the same way their mothers did. Now, they wait for Regina and Aniya’s downfall. Not realizing focusing on drawing limitations is what strips them of their own power.

If Jennifer and Sarah would lovingly release the philosophy inherited from their mother, they would be part of the same magic Regina and Aniya possess. They will finally allow themselves to see their playmates for what they are--miraculous. Even further, Regina and Aniya will lovingly bring Jennifer and Sarah into the same sunshine they take permanent residence in. The day those little girls release the passed down bitter feelings of generations of swindled, overlooked light skinned women--they are free.

So, I am here to say right now to my own daughter--we ain't finna be on that. Those harmful narratives stop with me. I tried to convince the brain washed light skinned women in my life for three decades that all my blessings came to me because I deserve them. It wasn’t luck, it was love. It wasn’t sorrow, it was fearlessness. It wasn’t pity, it was power. So Savanna, if God decides to bless me to meet you, just know Regina, Aniya, Jennifer and Sarah all possess the power to be great. All five of you are queens of your own tribe. The only words that shall pass through your lips are positivity for one another. You each have much to learn from one another. Division has no place in your circle of trust. Any philosophy that requires another person to be less than you is one you should think critically before accepting.