Indentured Servitude

I’m a prisoner under lock and key.

My crime was one of passion and I don’t regret a thing.

My sentence is indentured servitude to two tiny humans.

Last night, on the eve of the American Independence Day, I felt free. I got a taste of freedom for the first time in a little while.

Out in two wheels (my favorite way to feel free), the energy of the city was palpable. The humidity clung to my skin like plastic wrap. The wind ran its fingers through my hair.

With each push of the pedal my smile got bigger. Pure elation. A different kind of bliss I feel when I am with my kids.

Though motherhood sometimes feels like slavery, its rewards are indescribable. The hardest part is learning how to enjoy being both a mom and myself.

 

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