motherhood

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What does it mean to remain faithful to our shyness? When feeling at home in ourselves is different from feeling at home in the world.
I thought perfection was the glue of secure attachment, that rewriting the story was the hallmark of redemption. But when I stopped running from the mother I didn’t want to be — when I forgave my mother for the narrative she unknowingly authored — I could finally give my son what he needed all along: my presence.
My mother was Moxie for only a decade, but I wish I had known her then. Her happiness and sense of possibility must have been magnetic. Despite the war and all the absences and hardships she endured, those were her golden years.
Through the intimacy of chosen mother-daughterhood, a woman navigates the fraught territory of craving Chinese identity as a white American — and recognizes that some identities cannot be earned or learned, but are gifts passed on.
There is beauty in what makes us human, but also in what reveals us as creatures. A woman shares her evolving perspective on the animal nature of family life, and the raw freedom she finds therein.
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