27

Another year older, another year wiser. 

27 feels very strange. 

Not because I don't want to grow older, age does not bother me. 

Mostly because I feel older and, simultaneously, younger than 27, but not 27. 

Getting pregnant at 16 made me grow up a whole hell of a lot faster than I was supposed to. I had to make more mature decisions, I had to be responsible for myself and another human, I had to make grown up choices. Bills, work, survival. Instead of the normal teenage dreams. 

Now, 11 years later, I still feel 16 in some ways. 

I look young, and thus still get many of the judgmental stares and glares. I still have people asking me "How old are you?!" with that tone of disapproval. I still have to struggle with doctors and teachers taking me seriously after learning my age. 

And yet, I also feel much older. 

I have endured a much older persons pain. I have had to make decisions I hope that no one would ever have to make. I have had to live with the consequences of my choices. 

Here I am, 27 with 6 children.

These numbers don't scare me. I am grateful for them. 

Here's to another year of life, love, and lessons. 

Teenage Motherhood

As much as society seems to glamorize and exploit being a teenage mother, I see very few representations of what teenage mothers actually go through. I'm talking about in real life, beyond the small screen of reality shows and big fat paychecks for showing a complete shitshow every week.


And while my age doesn't define if I can be a good mother or not, it does provide some limitations.