i invoke the spirit within me that calls for me to own my power, using my voice in a way that causes me to shine my light outward, despite what he/ she/ they/ niggas gotta say.
Can you imagine being silenced before you even have a chance to raise your hand to even insist you may have some shit to say? Can you imagine that being the story of your life for over 30 years? Can you imagine this oppressive spirit following you for much longer than that? Well, eye could not and apparently the universe wasn’t having it much longer neither.
In good fashion of alignment, i randomly watched a talk led by bell hooks (rest in power to one of the greatest writers. please get to know her work if you don’t already — all about love is a good start) the other day: Moving from Pain to Power. i’ve been struggling with a lot of self-loathing which has been hindering to me growing as a writer and in other areas. (It’s still befuddling to me to even say that aloud but here i am bitches). So yea, as i’ve been on the struggle bus lately, i suddenly connected dots which brought me to liberating myself from such dormant state of mind.
“What does it even mean to decolonize our imagination?” was a question that slapped me in the face — off guard at that. Here i am, out here reading as much as i can to better understand how we must decolonize nations not realizing that the very same oppressive system that’s killing us in masses has also had me fucked up in ways i had no clue to think of.
**i cuss a lot irl LOL**
hooks further elaborated on the question by providing a reflective question for me: “how do you change years of being told negative things of who you could possibly be?”
i heard that question and i thought of people closest to me saying homophobic things, causing me to deny parts of my identity for years as if it was wrong.
i heard my parents’ harsh voices when they would compare my brother’s troubling behavior to my perfect report cards, instilling perfectionism in me.
i heard voices of old friends who would talk down on others, filled with confusion as i wondered who they told my imperfections to. Left with loneliness as i remembered why i held so much in.
i heard constant calls of “white girl” as a kid due to my enunciation of words, leaving me encouraged to only share my words with the furry pink diary i kept.
i further listened as a decolonized mindset was later phrased as “internal abolition”, learning that in order to free myself from the mindset that has had me fucked up, i must first gain awareness of the need to know i’m bound by fuck shit in order to get free from it. Furthermore, you must be in community with people to reach this epiphany.
i appreciate my community for accepting me and my peculiarities as i repay you with my unwavering love. i move on from others with grace and well wishes as you continue to learn and grow in ways that are important to you.
Who are you around that affirms who you truly are? Do you hold that space for others? When was the last time you truly felt seen and heard? What did it feel like? What makes you feel in good company with yourself? What does release look like for you?
Bottling who i was for so long manifested into my frustrations and outcries writing themselves a four-page letter, which became tucked away in this bottle.
Sitting alone in the sand on a deserted island, this message in the bottle awaited a recipient to hear its cry. Waiting and waiting, it sat alone until a powerful storm rushed it away from its solitude and onto the strong current that began to carry it.
As the storm calmed, so did the waters. Moving along the current, i sight its presence while i too am in solitude. My solitude resulted from need for discovery, though not sure what i was looking for. This sudden treasure became my answer as i addressed what was written in this bottle.
i thanked the waters for returning me what i had lost as i repaid my debt in tears.