There Weren’t Any Bruises….

Tags

abuse, advice, blackgirl, changing, life, lifestyle, relationships, verbalabuse

I never thought it would happen to me.

As a child, I would hear my mother’s screams for help. I can remember the crackling of cupped hands against her skin and the sound of bodies tussling against tiled floor. Even more so, I can remember my attempt to calling 911 and yelling that my dad was killing my mother, only for her to tell the officers upon their arrival that it was only a disagreement. I couldn’t fathom why she was lying, why she would allow the abuse to happen over and over again.

So when I became of age, I promised myself – it would NEVER happen to me.

Yet, it did.

He never touched me.

I never had to worry about the bruises on my skin or having to quickly gather an excuse like hurrying to hide away discarded laundry when visitors arrive unexpectedly.

I never had the bruises, that’s all I remember when it happened to me.

“If he never touched me, I wasn’t abused”.

Yet, I remember the stings that burned my heart, and the welts that formed in my insides.

It was as if it was sunset. You knew it was coming, you even knew the time it would come; yet, you would seemingly wish at times for it to wait a little longer or to never come at all.

He talked about me until I rotted.

About my looks, about my behaviors, about how he disliked me more than he ever disliked anyone else. He would say things like I was dumber than I looked, how I was the worst “BITCH” he could have ever fell in love with, how no other man would learn to love me. He would say that I wasn’t unattractive and how I was a hoe. He would belittle me and push me into a corner and with his growling words he would shower me with pain.

I’ve slept in corners before while he slept in the bed, too scared to be near him. I’ve slept in closets to be able to lock him out. And I cried in the shower knowing that the bathroom was the only place he respected “my space”.

And when it was all said and done. He would love me again.

Like a wounded puppy, I took shelter in his arms knowing what would become of later days.

I once said, that this would never happen to me.

I blamed him. Blamed him for my escape, blamed him for how I now viewed myself, I blamed him – simply because I became everything he told me I would be – or so I thought. But it takes two…

It took years to find me. It took years to shower off his hurtful words, to rebuild a broken heart that splintered from constant burden, it took years for my soul to shine from the shadows.

I overcame.

It would never happen to me. But it did. And I can honestly say if you are in an abusive relationship, even if he doesn’t put his hands on you – get out now. Love is often associated with pain. And if you’re like me- you believe that love IS pain. But it is not. Love is when you’re able to stand in front of a mirror and with loving eyes and a heartfelt mind be able to justify and love who you are. It is when you’re able to be you, all of you – not the half time special in which he only knows part of you because he doesn’t “like” other sides of you. It’s when you’re able to laugh more than you cry. It’s when he’s not the cause of your weeps in the shower, it’s when your closet is only made to store things, and it’s when corners are only meant for two walls to meet up.

Love yourself. I can’t ever explain how important it is…to love yourself.

Advertisements

A Lesson on Learning Self Value

Tags

advice, better, blackgirlrocks, blackgirls, change, dreams, lessons, life, love, selflove, selfworth, strength, women, words, worth

I received a message recently about the reasoning for my “disappearance”. People seem to be intrigued on how I’m quite the social butterfly one minute then the next, I’m gone for weeks at a time without a trace. Yet, I’m able to reappear somehow refreshed and happy. 

I sort of laughed when I read the message, “How are you able to be the person you are and still be in the shadows?” The answer to the question, being the person that I am – was answered with another question. “How are you able to find yourself, speak to yourself, love yourself when you and your self – skin included, have yet to know each other on a personal level?”.

I take the time out to know myself because just like seasons, you will change. Behaviors and emotions reveals who you are but sometimes you are not aware of them, especially when they suddenly appear (and trust me they do sometimes, leaving you to question who you have become). I’m going to share something personal, on what happened to me recently that I can laugh about, now.

My insecurity of “not being good enough”.

Recently, I became friends with an old flame. During the time we talked, he had nothing going on for himself – lived with his mother, no job, no education past high school (not like that’s a bad thing), no will. NOTHING. After becoming cool again, he had everything – a house, a great job, a will to chase his dreams, etc. And you know what I said to myself … “I’m not even good enough anymore”.

Lol. WOW. 

So after praying to my God and discussing with him my insecurities. What he has now are only materialistic things. What about his insides? But that’s not even important!

What’s important is what I learned. I create my own definition of worth, of value, of self-love. Do you understand that? I can only be seen as “good enough”, when I feel as though I am good enough! Thus, I cannot outperform my level of self-esteem. && that is one of the many great lessons this life has taught me. I belong to myself, what a blessing that is.

Dear Valerie Strauss

Tags

black, blackamerica, education, ivyleague, life, racism, success, washingtonpost

Dear Valerie Strauss,

It was recently brought to my attention of your article concerning Kwasi Enin’s and Avery Coffey’s acceptance to different Ivy Leagues. Great article in some points but let me just point out to you that it was absolutely hilarious to see the tone of your articles to be SO BITTER. What you DID do for your readers was further conclude that even at an older age that you are, ignorance can still blossom in a heart that beats only by an hidden agenda of hatred. Instead of congratulating, you took your hatred and created a spat on YOUNG men who have WORKED for something and obtained their dreams. I can only imagine that there was once a time when you applied for a college and was denied and seeing individuals who look nothing like you do the SAME and be admitted. You furthered your argument by stating that the schools have manipulated the admission system to meet their demographic standards. Therefore, you find that these two black men were only admitted because of demographics and not because of their hard work. So it had nothing to do with Kwasi’s ranking 11 in his class of 647, or SAT scores, or him taking 11 AP courses, or his volunteering or even his WILL to pursue school being a first generation student? Or what about Avery’s will – it had nothing to do with his hard work with living with a single mother trying to maintain her household in the poorest wards in DC or his GPA of 4.3? In the words of Avery Coffey “You can go anywhere you want to, pursue any career that you want to, and you shouldn’t let anybody hinder you from trying to reach your goals” – THAT goes for YOU TOO MS. Valerie, your sour words won’t hinder these young men at ALL. So let these young men celebrate because WE, the black community are often burdened with stories that lack the will of drive, success, and integrity. Personally, these stories are GREAT stories to share with the fellow youth in the community especially brown and black young men. So to answer your question, can we stop talking about who got into the Ivy League. NO, we cannot and will not and when more students of color get into prestigious schools we shall congratulate them over and over again and it will continue over and over again so I took the time to make this for you. /_ . That’s a literal seat. Sit in it and learn to appreciate education and intelligence from all walks of life.