To the Woman Who Carried Me: A Tribute to Strength and Sacrifice

The Village That Raised Me

They say it takes a village, and I’ve been blessed with a powerful one. Moms are special—and sometimes, they aren’t even your own biological mother. As a Black man, I know I wouldn’t be half the man I am today without the women who poured into me.

I want to honor the mothers who provided the encouragement and love that shaped my soul: Shirley, Antoinette, Vanessa, Evonne, my sister Janelle, and last (but absolutely not least) Anna. And of course, I cannot forget the woman I see every day and night, Tcal.

But today, I need to talk about the woman who carried me—in the womb and in life.

Small Stature, Infinite Strength

My mother is one of the strongest people I have ever met. She stands 4’11” on a good day. I was born weighing 10 lbs—easy work for a woman like her.

She’s had her struggles, but then again, don’t we all? From her, I learned that resilience is a choice. It is always easier to give up, but she doesn’t believe in “quit.” She just keeps going. Seeing her persistence makes it easy for me to get up and get to work, even when I don’t feel like it.

The Hardest Decision

One of the most difficult chapters of my life was when we were separated. Even now, I don’t blame her. She and my brother’s father were struggling with addiction, and it affected all of us drastically.

I remember going to my grandmother’s house one day. As she bathed me, she saw the marks on my back from a belt—or an extension cord, I couldn’t even tell you. I tried to say it happened at school, but she knew better. That was the last time I went home to my mother and my siblings for a long time.

I was scared—mostly for them. I felt safe at my grandmother’s, but there was a deep discomfort. I thought things would get better, but a new set of troubles started there.

But here is what I know: She could have folded. She could have let the addiction take her over completely. Instead, she chose me. She chose her children. She stopped immediately. I felt that shift then, and I still feel it now. It told me something she never had to say out loud.

The Sacrifice

Eventually, we ended up in court. I was asked the hardest question an eight-year-old could face: Who do you want to stay with? I couldn’t choose. I wanted to go home to my mom, but I also felt like I was just “one more burden” on her and my siblings. She made the choice for me. She told the court to let my father take me. It had to be the hardest thing she ever did (until the passing of my nephew and sister).

She knew the situation was tearing me apart. She saw my pain. I even asked to take my brother Dalon with me because I knew he was hurting, too.

Closing the Distance

My mom never let the distance define us. She constantly moved just to keep herself and my siblings near me. She made it her mission to stay close, maintaining the bond that she was my mother and that would never change.

She always tells me how proud she is. She reminds me how much I’m like her, or like her father, Clarence (who gave me my middle name). I hear “I love you” all the time. I’ve always known it, and I’ll never forget it. She wants the best for all her children, but she’s the type of parent who gives you the space to grow and learn on your own.

Who She Is

My mother marches to her own beat, carrying herself with confidence and respect. She doesn’t take “it” from anyone—regardless of their status—but she will give you the world if you show her that same respect.

She never forced me into a box. She provided direction, usually with her signature wisdom: “Don’t write checks your ass can’t cash.” She is intelligent, self-reflecting, and brutally honest with herself. She hasn’t changed over the years; she’s only improved. She has been my biggest supporter, and so much of who I am is because of her.

I am who I am today—and for those who don’t like it, you can take it up with my mom!

I love you, Mom. Thank you for everything.

| About me – Latrelle | Understanding What Makes Our Special Mothers Special |