Take a breath. Life is beautiful. The weeds, flowers, sunshine, our perfect hearts. The sensation of skin touching. Fresh and supple and together. Deep. Slow sex in the morning. Footsies. These are just moments. And in-betweens. And I just want to never stop loving like my life depends on because well my life does depend on it.
I think the easiest thing after a betrayal by someone we love is to question the validity and worth of ourselves in comparison to the betrayal. When in reality our worth isn’t tied up into anyone, but ourselves. That the betrayal likely started long before these moments. The betrayal might’ve been why we left in the first place. I found out on social media that a person I was recently romantically involved is getting married.
I’m sharing this because my heart is hurt. My heart is not hurt because they’re getting married. My heart is not hurt because I’m not happy for them. My heart is not hurt because I want to be in a relationship with them. My heart is hurt because I didn’t hear it from them. My heart is hurt because I thought so highly of this person. My heart is hurt because of the nature of our friendship, how intentional we were to remain. My heart is hurt because we respected each other. My heart is hurt because they didn’t grant me the opportunity to celebrate them. My heart is hurt because up until now we’ve been gently and lovingly transparent about EVERYTHING, even when it hurt.
For anyone feeling the sting of betrayal today, know that it has nothing to do with you. Know that our lives will go on, will thrive just as they always have. Know that we are enough during this transformative time. I recall my umi’s words, “We can wallow in self-pity for a little while, just don’t stay there”. We’re responsible to forgive the betrayal of ourselves for this person. We gotta create the closure we need. Take time and space.
Stanlee’s death affects me deeply because so many black women and mothers aren’t given any love, support or breaks in this cruel world. We are left to our own everything. I think of my mother who had died an emotional death that she never recovered from long before she died physically.
My heart is broken today. A young mother of three completed suicide in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania two days ago. We all have a painful tune we carry. No one is exempt from a pain like this, the thought, a memory.
I took a mental health first aid course earlier this year. Most of the people in the class including myself used the term ‘committed suicide’ when recalling stories. However, as the instructor described that using the verb ‘commit’ when followed by an act is generally reserved for actions that many people may view as sinful or immoral. Someone commits burglary or murder or rape or perjury or adultery or crime or something else bad. Suicide is sad, for those left behind yes, but the person who completes suicide is not committing a crime or sin. Rather the act of suicide almost always is the product of mental illness, intolerable stress, or trauma.
Though taboo we need more love in this world. More love. ❤️