Power of She -- Power of Me.

I have a very conservative mother. 

She's always gotten on my case about the clothes I wear, the make up I don (or lack thereof), the things I say, listen to and do. She always has said that this is because she worries about me, how people will look and treat me. I've always said that it isn't so much about me, but at how I reflect on her. And today, she has pretty much told me so. 

There is a saying that I loathe more in the world than words can express that unfortunately, my mother holds dear to her heart. 'El Que Diran?' In English it means 'what will people say?' 

I hate this. I honestly do. Because living a life where you have to worry about what the Joneses down the street have to say about you, or Betty Sue thinks about what you're doing is absolutely depressing. 

As I mentioned in another blog earlier, I have battled a lifetime of depression and self-esteem issues. I have finally come to a point in my life where I am learning to love myself, flaws and all. I can look at my rolls and acknowledge that this is the body my husband loves. I look at my scars and I see that I have survived. I wanted to embrace this newfound love and when Cat invited me to the Power of She shoot, I hesitated for a second. 

Because the concept was not about anybody else. It was about me. For me. 

And the pictures came out beautiful. 

With pride, I shared my shot on Facebook. Jay mentioned that she loved how serene I looked (truth is my butt was cramping, LOL) and how at ease I was. I admitted that part of it was that 1) I am tired of feeling depressed and 2) there were amazing women at the shoot that eased my comfort. There is not a single part of me that is being aired that can be flagged for abuse of anything on FB. We all look absolutely stunning in a very tasteful, artistic way. 

My husband saw it, commented we all looked amazing and surprisingly comfortable. He loved that the shot was creative and not raunchy. 

I was soaring. I never felt so empowered. 

Then it happened. 

I got a long diatribe via text from my mother about how ashamed she is of me for being so lewd and disrespectful. First it was my sister who failed and hurt her for falling in love with a woman and now I add insult to injury with such horrible nakedness. While I may not care about what people thought of me, she had family on the social network and she was ashamed that they would see me in how 'God brought me into this world'. She's afraid of what people will have to say about the way she raised her children.  She wondered what sort of man would allow his wife to pose in such a manner and she could only wonder what sort of life we led where I can parade around in such a way. 

I will lie if I said it didn't hurt me. 

I would be dishonest if I said I was not offended -- and any of you who follow this blog know what I feel about this. 

So let me share with you the same things I told her because I am not ashamed of myself nor the picture that got her in a tizzy. I am absolutely proud with all of us who partook in this project.

Really, mother?I'm not showing anything. I'm covered. If I have hurt you, I apologize. It was not my intent to offend you, nor did I dream it would as this shot is not pornographic. If anything, it saddens me that you find art offensive. To answer your question about how my husband felt, he was proud of my willingness to embrace myself, flaws included. And if you insist of thinking the worst about me because of an artistic nude, I do not know what to say. It hurts me to know that the public opinion is more important to you than the fact that I am tired of hating myself and that I am full of pride because I am finally starting to love myself for who I am. 

But what else can I say? Nothing. 

You have already made up your mind that we are the worst of people. Not only have you offended your middle daughter for being true to herself, or your youngest for finally finding power in her demons but you have offended [Manthing]-- a man who has given me love and respect, as well shown me the strength I have within myself to keep on living. 

It is depressing, Mother, absolutely depressing, that you would compare art to pornography. 

I will always love you, and goodnight my vieja. 

At her behest I deleted the status where I shared the picture on my wall. I have also untagged myself from the original. I will not, however, ask any of the women in my group to delete it. 

I will, however, share what I said here:  

I'm nervous and excited at the same time. This amazing group of ladies have done amazing things for me in the short time I've been with them. I have started to write more frequently as their official blogger which is tough, but it keeps me going. They are the breeze that my smoldering dreams needed, for now I am actively doing what I need to do. My feet are pointed I'm the right direction and slowly, I'm making my way through.

Dames for Dreams, thank you... 

Oh, and Jay T. Conrad I wish I had smiled more but damn, I was trying not to fall over. My butt was cramping in this picture!https://www.facebook.com/bemyampersand