Human

When I was born, my mother held me in her arms,
and looked at me with love - looked at her daughter with love.
I was not named after anyone I knew,
and at one time I was to receive the dogs name;
it was first come first serve.
My mother would take me to the park
with the dog of course, whose bite was not worse than her bark.
And I would play there, on the swings and down the slide,
just like any other child I knew.
My mother took me to dance class,
where I met many other children,
who all took ballet to their dismay,
but learned to love it anyway.
I also used to skate,
gliding in figure eights around the ice.
I grew to know some friends there too,
who memorized the same routine
of Yellow Submarine.
And just like many other children,
my mother gave me the best,
and would never rest
until she knew I would be okay on my own.
But that doesn't mean she was a better mother,
than the one half-way across the world.
The one who may not have had the same religion
or the same hair or skin colour,
but was a mother all the same.
A mother who gave their best
and would never rest,
until they knew their child would be okay on their own.
Some people grow up, afraid of people who are not the same,
but we all have mothers.
We all live on this earth,
and want to be looked upon with love.
I want to be loved,
And the women wearing niqabs, want to be loved.
And the women who do not want to be defined soley on
how they look, want to be loved.
And the women who wear their hair naturally, want to be loved.
The women who have made mistakes, want to be loved.
Women who look after others, want to be loved.
Women who represent others, want to be loved.
Women who fight to be able to have their photo taken without permission, want to be loved.
Women who support their families on their own, want to be loved.
Women want to be loved because
we are all human.
Humans want to be loved.
Because it doesn't matter what skin colour a person has,
or where they came from,
a mother is a mother.
And a mother on the other side of the world
is looking down at their new-born child with love.
That mother is going to do their best
and not rest
until they know that their child is going to be okay on their own.
So lest us forget the mothers and women of the world.
Because we are all human.