Growth

Lately I have been leaning into life in such a way that has been keeping me prostrate with my heart open. I cannot recall seeing gentle women in my life because they often carried the weight of unrequited love; heavy with deceitful longings. Frustrated at the thought of giving themselves over to another person or having to carry the burden of raising children alone. I have become the remnants of delicate flesh yearning to heal from centuries of not acknowledging the pain.

I speak of trauma not because of the work I do or because I am not restored, but I speak to unhinge us from desensitized emotions + overcompensating buried truths of low self-worth. As I hug my wife, I peel away years of anger down to the core of loving myself + her. Damn it feels good to love another human being from a dark temple that wreaks of sunlight. Damn it feels good to recognize the conflicting rebellion of being tough + soft but still capable of flooding a space with genuine loving kindness. Damn it feels good to see a reflection of something you have always desired mirrored through your own reflection. Damn it feels good to love a black person whose ancestors have endured the pain of hate.

As I stand in the center of corn stalks in my garden, I am growing tribe. Growing into the woman my mother desired to be, but wasn’t patient enough to cultivate the ground until it produced the harvest she felt worthy of receiving. Here’s to remembering that each time you love you heal your past + preserve your future.