A mother's daughter part 1

You look just like your mother my relatives often cry and when they do the words fall upon my ears like knives. They say I bear no resemble, no appearance of my father but I see so many similarities I don't know why he bothers to laugh and pretend with me that I am not his kid, but I see so much of me in him that seems to be hid My dad took care of me but not in the manly way, he cooked and cleaned up after me, packed my lunch for school each day I hate to say he was my mom but by tradition he was it, my mom worked and made money but she could not seem to fit Into our little bubble of family, my dad, grandparents and I, she was hardly home at first but that changed as years went by. When my mother appeared in the mix she did not seem to mind, that I was closer to my dad but as the years went by She slowly became concerned that I was becoming too much of a boy, she began putting me in dresses, dance, and makeup to only her own joy. I seemed to love every moment of dressing up and being pretty, I dreamed of singing on a stage in the big city As a kid I grew up with Baptist songs and church choir, those places were a home until my soul burned with a fire To love those who looked like me and dress like a boy, these silly ideals of mine did not bring my parents joy They cast their stones along with my peers and hoped that I would change, and now I know after all this time it was never just a phase.