Free

I will smile the day I see men from my community trying to show women, who have internalized the scars of weak men, to be free.

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Waiting

I know what waiting is like.
I spent my childhood watching my mother wait
for my father to be a father, a husband,
a decent human being.
Until she stopped waiting
officially, in 2015.

I still sometimes feel her waiting for love,
for her children to be supportive adults,
for comfort and community.
I know some waiting never ends.

This knowledge scares me,
and it scared me enough at 22
to jump into things that weren’t meant for me.
I wanted experiences and feeling.

I learned to live, to hurt, and to leave.
I learned to run, to settle, and then to set myself free.

I still fear waiting, and the process of waiting,
even though I remember when I was really waiting,
even if involuntarily,
I was at the best that I could be,
I was creating.

I don’t create now.

I met you at 24 and so briefly,
but it gave me enough to remember
that whatever is convenient might
delude me or distract me,
but I will always be waiting,
be it unknowingly,
until I find what sparks that fire in me.

“If Your Boyfriend Does These Things, He Truly Loves You” and other bad advice on the internet

This entry is inspired entirely by a shitty advice article I recently came across during my regular mindless browsing of Facebook. This thing was called, as many of them are, ‘If Your Boyfriend Does These Things, He Truly Loves You‘. Before I go deeper, I must disclose that although I do not have a boyfriend, I do have what the kids these days are calling common sense, which has always proved to be a wonderful companion in detecting stupidity. I’m sure you would  also hopefully be wondering, what kind of person with self-respect clicks on these articles? I can explain myself. As a way to keep myself entertained, I like to read shitty articles and mock them in my mind, then sometimes write about the mocking if it becomes elaborate enough in my thoughts. Hence, this.

This article is meant to ‘help’ people who are insecure about saying ‘I love you’ first in fear of not receiving reciprocity. First of all, have a fucking backbone. Communicate your feelings because you feel them, not out of the expectation that they will be returned. But alright, keeping in mind that human vulnerability is difficult to deal with, let’s turn to what advice is offered to young women in this enlightening piece. Continue reading

Love & Money

In recent times, I’ve learned that I have a dysfunctional relationship with both love and money. Both of these vices have the potential of being deeply positive and deeply negative. As I reflect on both, I see the different parallels that exist between them. When used positively, they have the potential of making life fruitful and beautiful but negatively, they can really hollow out your heart and mind.

For several years now, my relationship with love has been one of taking, of selfishness. I have found comfort in receiving love from people while keeping them at a distance from my heart so that I never have to give back. I’ve thrived from the attention received from male counterparts but been too cool to attend back. It’s not that I intentionally guard myself or prevent myself from feeling or giving; it just so happens that my life experiences have shaped me into an ungiving, cold person. There is some degree of safety in this. You are not likely to get profoundly hurt or sad. However, that also means that you are unlikely to profoundly learn or grow. To shield your heart from hurt limits the richness of its experience. It may feel as though you have the upper hand when you receive and don’t give but what you have is guilt and perpetual loneliness. Similarly for money, many of us like to hoard money for safety and to look out for ourselves, but there is a perpetual sadness in this. Money feels better when shared, distributed, and given back. Holding onto more money than necessary for survival only provides a very hollow, temporary satisfaction. The enriching way to use it is to distribute.
Continue reading

Love IV

I remember that first Valentine’s Day of intimacy
and how uncomfortable it made me.
Second Valentine’s became comfortable
–idea of romance less repulsive,
more normal, more regular, more mundane.
Third Valentine I had determination of walking away
looking back

wishing I kept my discomfort.

Intimacy will never be comfortable for me
but I learned to lie so well,
pretend so convincingly.

Lying in different arms
thinking of the feel of your chest
against my cheek,
your arms around me.
In that moment, we both wanted comfort
and we had it.
It was wrong for me.

Maybe it will always be.

Feel

I embrace my painful thoughts
with tears of affection.
Long lost friends that
reveal me to myself.
How painful it was to search my mind
for feeling
and return with
nothing.
I ran through hallways of tragedies
only to find the stone face of apathy.
Separated by a comfortable distance
surrounded by indifference
sitting idly in its mindless company.
In numbness,
I ceased to think, I ceased to be.