That's My Girl - by Ink

When I was younger, Mama would always berate me for crying. In her words, "crying is for weak girls. Are you a weak girl?" I'd answer, "No." in between sobs. She wouldn't take it and tell me to answer like I mean it. I would wipe my eyes, catch my breath and answer more firmly. She would smile at me and say, "That's my girl." I really didn't blame Mama for bringing me up to be tough. Mama had fallen in love with my father when she was sixteen and got pregnant when she was seventeen. My father ran away and I haven't heard from him since. Truly, I didn't want to. Mama said the world isn't fair to girls, so she brought me up with what I like to call, tough love. She gave me everything she never had. A home, an education, food, good clothing. She struggled for it, dabbling into this job and that with nobody to support her(her parents— my grandparents chased her out when she was pregnant. She stayed with a friend for a while before she saved enough money and got us a house). I always wanted to make Mama proud. So I studied— hard. I didn't have friends and I didn't mind because Mama was enough for me. We gossiped about everything. She was my rock. Mama also indirectly drilled into my head that men aren't worth it. They were useless and foolish like she said, they use us and when they get tired, they dispose us. So, I turned my attention away from men. I didn't want to be used. I believed my hate of men started from my father who I never met. I went to the University Of Ibadan. It wasn't far from home, so I visited Mama regularly. I worried a lot that Mama was overworking and her account was bleeding but she didn't pay attention to me anytime I brought it up. She vowed that the life she didn't have, I would have it. I wasn't spoilt— far from it. I studied law. Graduated with a first class, went to law school graduated with a BL. I bagged a job at an oil firm. The pay was massive. I told Mama to stop working. It was time for me to take care of her. Mama was happy about it, but told me not to overwork. Everything in my life was good, great even then I met him. I met him at a restaurant he was all smiles and it was obvious he liked me. I still didn't trust men. He chased me to my car, and demanded for my number. I didn't know why then, and I still don't, but I gave it to him. We started talking on a daily basis. He was the CEO of a tech company. He was smart, nice and friendly. I wondered maybe if Mama exaggerated about all men being evil. It was the first time I kept a secret from Mama. Nothing escaped her though, she found out and she didn't like it. She said she didn't mind if he made me happy though. Mama drilled him with questions I couldn't fathom. He wasn't backing out. That was when I first I knew I loved him. Mama grew to love him and they ganged up on me occasionally. We got married, had very lovely but frustrating children. He supported me every step of the way. I guess all men aren't so bad after all.

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