A Legacy of Love: What My Mother and Grandmother Taught Me About Strength

By Trinity Barnette

This Mother’s Day, I want to honor the two women who raised me—who shaped me, protected me, and taught me everything I know about strength, faith, and unconditional love.

Diane: My Grandmother, My Stability, My Standard

My grandmother, Diane, was born on September 9th, 1955, in Maryland—the youngest of three children. At just 17, she got a job working for the government and never left. That’s just who she is: loyal to a fault, kind to the core, and as empathetic as they come.

She takes care of everything around her—people, pets, gardens, and birds. We have four cats now, and all of them are thriving under her quiet, nurturing care. If love had a language, she speaks it fluently in sunflowers, second chances, and soft-spoken prayers.

There isn’t a woman I look up to that compares to my grandmother. She is the definition of strength—quiet, unwavering, and deeply rooted. She’s the reason I believe success isn’t just about money. It’s about stability. It’s about integrity. It’s about showing up, again and again, for the people you love, even when no one’s watching. And she’s done that for decades.

I hope to be as loyal, independent, and spiritually grounded as she is. And if I can give even a fraction of the love she’s given me to someone else, I’ll know I’ve made her proud.

Erica: My Mother, My Mirror, My Warrior

My mom, Erica, was born on November 18th, 1984, in Maryland. She’s the oldest of two kids—and yes, she was wild as a teen. Funny, rebellious, and eventually caught in the grip of addiction, my mom struggled with drugs for many years. But even through her darkest moments, she never disappeared. She always found a way to be in my life.

She had me on October 11th, 2005, and from that moment on, we were in it together. Our life wasn’t stable. It wasn’t easy. But it was ours. And even in the chaos, I found ways to make it fun.

There were times I saw things a child shouldn’t see. Times I carried weight too heavy for my age. But even then, I didn’t see my childhood as tragic—I saw it as messy, hilarious, chaotic… and real.

When things got hard, my grandma stepped in. She made sure we never starved, never went without. She was the net beneath us both. And in 2020, when my world was spinning, she took me in and gave me the one thing I had never truly experienced: stability. That year changed my life. I became an academic success. But I also slipped into depression and began to self-harm. Still, they stayed by me—my grandma, steady as ever, and my mom, still fighting to find her way back to herself.

And she did.

She went to rehab. She found her faith. She reconnected with who she was before the addiction, before the pain, before life stole her softness. And in true Scorpio fashion—she was reborn.

The Lessons They Gave Me

From my grandma, I learned that success is spiritual. That you don’t have to be flashy to be powerful. That quiet strength, consistency, and compassion will outlast any storm.

From my mom, I learned that desire can either be a driving force or a destructive one. That unchecked indulgence can ruin lives—but that it’s never too late to take control back. She taught me what it means to rebuild. To fight for yourself. To choose healing even when shame tries to bury you.

Together, they taught me the power of love that doesn’t quit. The kind that holds you through your worst and claps for you at your best. The kind that redefines family.

To Erica and Diane—Thank You

I owe so much of who I am to the women who held me together when I didn’t even know I was falling apart. This Mother’s Day, I’m not just saying thank you. I’m honoring the sacrifices, the strength, and the stories you’ve carried—so I could one day carry my own.

And I will carry them. Out loud. Unapologetically. And with love.