I gave birth to Zuri Adia, three months before my 23rd birthday. I have a photo of me holding a bottle to her mouth and blowing out several candles on my birthday cake. I had just moved back home. I had no clue what I was going to do, but what I knew for sure was, this little girl would become my guide. I knew what I wanted for her.
I wanted to hug her every morning.
I wanted to read books to her at night.
I wanted music to surround us.
I wanted her to dance in the rain.
I wanted her to have sunshine — to watch her feel the warmth of the earth beneath her feet.
Overall, I wanted peace for us.
I wanted peace to be sewn within the fabric of her being, but I knew I couldn’t get that for her from the situation and place I was in. When she was 10 months old, I packed up everything and moved far away from friends, family and her father.
In our new home, I watched her take her first steps, listened to her babble her way into actual words, and when there was music I watched her dance as though the music was speaking to her.
Overtime, I have watched her dance on stages and in our living room.
I am watching her live out loud in her body, trusting her dad to catch her, and challenging her strength by sparring with her uncle and brother.
On her actual birthday, she only wanted to play… to play basketball, climb trees, and jump off the sea wall. Watching her be free in her body inspired me and I joined her. I was not as graceful as she was, but I jumped. With her.
Seventeen years after giving birth to her, my daughter is helping me give birth to the playful parts of myself.
Play a little.
Kadine Christie
