When I sent her a photo of me standing on the London Bridge, her first comment was, “Where did you get that jean jacket? The collar pops up so nicely!” London Bridge wasn’t “falling down,” but it didn’t sit high in my mother’s priorities. 

 Just as Wonder Woman gained the ability to fly using the power of her Lasso of Truth, my mother did the same with the pop of her collar. I saw the magic happen daily. As she finished getting ready for work, I began to get ready for school.  Crossing mirrored paths, the last thing I saw her do was pop her collar. She went from an unsure 5’7″ to a confident 5’9″ and out the door she went. Crossing Jefferson Street, her feet never touched the ground.

It’s no surprise that as I flew into my own truth, I did the same. I DO the same. (When the golden lasso is passed on to you, it would be a shame not to use it.) Popping from state to state, country to country, I stand a little taller, not because my mother gave me a map, but because she gave me wings.