Rooted, Not Stuck: What the Women in My Family Taught Me About Growing Forward

Mother’s Day always makes me reflective.

Not just about my mom, but about the women who raised me, stood beside me, and quietly held the world together while making it look like magic.

My mother. My grandmother. Two women from different generations, each with a strength of their own. As time passes and I mature, I put more effort into understanding their stories. The more I listen, the more I see how much sacrifice lived in their choices. How much of themselves they gave so I could become.

Their sacrifices shaped what success looks like for me.

I want to make them proud. I want to be the proof that it was worth it. That everything they endured didn’t go unnoticed. But sometimes, I look at my life and wonder if I’m far enough along. If the sacrifices they made are being honored the way they should be.

Because the truth is, I thought I’d be further. I thought I’d have more to show by now.

And that’s hard to sit with.

It’s taken time for me to realize there’s a difference between being rooted and being stuck.

Being rooted means I carry them with me. Their strength. Their values. Their love.

But being stuck? That’s when I start making decisions from a place of pressure and guilt. That’s when I start telling myself that struggle is the only way to prove I’ve earned it.

The women in my family didn’t dream for me to repeat their path. They dreamed I’d have options. That I’d have space. That I’d go further.

I know now that growth doesn’t dishonor them. For a long time, I thought choosing rest or wanting more ease meant I was somehow turning my back on their struggle. That if they had to fight for everything, then maybe I should too. But I see it differently now. Choosing ease doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the fight—it means I’m carrying it forward differently. Rest honors them. Ease honors them. Joy honors them. The life I’m building doesn’t erase their sacrifice. It gives it a softer landing. It makes room for everything they couldn’t ask for but still hoped I’d find.

And I can still want more while deeply loving where I came from.

So this week, I’m thinking about them. The women who gave me everything. And I’m reminding myself that I don’t have to be perfect to make them proud. I don’t have to arrive to be worthy of the legacy they gave me.

I just have to keep growing.

Rooted in love. Rooted in strength. Rooted in something sacred.

But no longer stuck.

‘Cause wah fi yuh, cyaan un fi yuh.

And since I’m talking about legacy—shameless plug—my grandmother is 101 and just published her story. You can read it here. Drop a note in the comments if you happen to grab a copy.

~ Meisha