Not the Mama

When I was in basic training for the US Air Force, I was 20 years old and the second oldest woman in the squadron. The oldest was a reservist in her late twenties. The rest of the trainees were all 17 and 18 years old. They called the older lady Grandma and me, I got mom. Apparently I still give off a mom vibe around younger women.

I’m not opposed to that in general. Many queer folx have crappy parents and if I am able to ease the pain of that a bit by being understanding and motherly, I’m okay with that. As with my own kid though I have to be careful not to impose my opinions or advice when unasked for and just try to be a safe space and a soft place to land. I’m not always successful, but I try.

If we are friends, I will go full mama bear for you when you need me. This means you get my love and support when you are fighting your demons or the a-holes out in the world. I am fiercely loyal to my friends. Ultimately though I am not the mama.

Every single one of the people I have chosen to be in my life fills a space in my heart and fulfills a special function in my overall wellbeing. I’ve been told I am a very selfish creature. I prefer to see it as self-care. If you are not contributing to my wellbeing, then I can’t be well enough to help you with yours. I want what is best for each of us.

That being said, if you have drama with another one of our friends, do not ask me to take sides. That puts me back into mom mode and I will not play favorites. I will not choose sides and if you’re the one being unreasonable, I will call you out. I’ll still love you and support you and help make things better if I can, but I am their friend too.

I know that some will say if you don’t pick a side you are choosing the other side. So be it. If you give me an ultimatum, you are essentially pushing me away anyway and you need to be prepared that I won’t choose you. I want you to find your peace, but not at the cost of mine. I’ve worked too hard to get here.

To ALL of my friends, be well.