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But I am so much more. For years, I've made that persona my professional armor, but if not just a publicist, then who am I? I am the mom of 2 boys, aged 22 and 2, the wife of an incarcerated man and a first-generation Caribbean-American who was born, raised, and still resides in Bushwick, Brooklyn.

I have been a single mom for the better part of my 20-year-old son's life. And for the past 10 years of it, I have had virtually no help in raising him. I made this single mom thing work by prioritizing my son and his needs above all else. Next came the job, because, well, I had to pay the bills, and lastly came me. Always.

I want to celebrate all the moms in my life, but I have spent years on mother's day exhausted going from one place to the next with the hopes of getting home in time to maybe celebrate me. It's a challenge for me to balance it all in one day — even on a day, that's supposed to be about celebrating me. But this year is going to be different, in more ways than one.

The day I started writing this essay, I got in a spat with my husband while I was baking brownies with the kids. He didn't understand why I had doubled the recipe. Despite the fact that I announced this fact multiple times, because I wanted to make them thick like I did as a child. As soon as I poured the batter into the pan, he came in and said, "Oooh, that's going to be so thick! Shouldn't we split the batter into two pans?" I saw red; I lashed out on him telling him how dare he question my nostalgia brownies and why not just say, "Thank you for doing this with the kids and I can't wait to eat them"? He looked at me like I was crazy.

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