The People Inside Me

I know I’m not the only one.

Annie’s 6 years old, shy and fragile, afraid of her own shadow most days. She barely scraped together a sense of self, always worrying what others might think.

People forget kids need more than a roof and food; they need warmth, comfort, the kind of love that doesn’t have strings attached.

She’s known hunger — not for food, but for a kindness that feels safe. She’s still wary, but she’s my reminder to tread softly, even in hard times, especially when it comes to protecting her children.

Then there’s Tessie, the tough one — the scrapper who came to life when Annie stepped foot on a Navy ship at nineteen.

Tessie’s the “no nonsense, I got this, back off” kind. She doesn’t take kindly to abuse, unlike Annie, who used to get trampled.

Tessie’s fierce, she doesn’t flinch. She’s learned to size people up, to call them on their crap. Tessie’s my strength in the face of this ruthless world. She might not always be graceful, but she’s got grit.

And last but not least, there’s Mama.

She’s warmth personified, everything you’d want a mother to be. Mama keeps the house in order, makes hot meals for her family, and fills the rooms with laughter.

She’s the one who shows up for Christmas with every corner of the house decked out, stockings over the fireplace, and lights in the windows.

Everything Annie ever dreamed of, Mama brings to life.

But she’s got a soft heart that can’t say no, which is how we once got into debt when the kids were little. Tessie had to step in to get us back on track; she’s the one who made sure Mama could love as big as she wanted while keeping the lights on.

Mama, Tessie, Annie — they all keep me balanced.

I need them all. I’m not crazy, just human in a world that asks us to play so many roles. Maybe I just gave mine names, but every single one of them knows the truth: Keep your chin up, hold sorrow in check, and remember to focus on the here and now.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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