Not Gonna Drown.

I think my dad was drunk more times than me and Taylor already thought. Sure, he had his binges, but mama, he was definitely NOT  a binge drinker. Just reflecting on how often I was humiliated. Beaten, molested, spat on. I haven’t forgotten the day you dropped me and Taylor off at St. Helena and your husband saw fit to dig his fingernails into my inner eyes. How much did I fuck his life up to deserve constant ridicule from classmates, then at home from my own family? I was conscious and respectful enough to honor your request to treat your son with a soft voice and kindness, because you taught me that a Black male has nowhere to feel loved outside of his home. So, where should a Black female find it?

Are the parenting styles of our culture so ill-conceived that we build our queens up, while simultaneously tearing them down? How many drunken rages was it gonna take for someone to love me? How much more was I to endure until my Prince Charming fell from the sky? I’m still waiting for the man I need to save me. Still waiting on that one beautiful soul to engulf me in his whirlwind of passion. To entice me with his eyes and charm his way into my heart. My daddy fell short. No one’s relationships with their parents are perfect, I dare say ideal. Mine in particular, though, tore through to my soul. No one around to fill the empty space, and so the breeze chilled me from the inside out. The ice began to weigh my chest down. I couldn’t breathe. I realized I could either sink or swim. I mustered my courage. I wiped my tears. I found my strength, and I chipped away at all of it. All of the pain, confusion, and fear melted and broke away like glaciers. And the final outpour compared to no other source of joy on this earth. No accomplishment that I have or may achieve measures to the pride I had when it was over. When I finally realized who I was. When it was finally over.

I’ve been doing this on my own for a while. I had to. I had to swim.

Author’s note:

*Edited & copied from a journal entry dated June 29, 2014. I’d also like you guys to know I deleted the phrase “Hey Ma” with a winky face next to it from in the first paragraph. In 2014, I cared about offending others with my truth. Three years later, I know there’s nothing anybody can tell ME  about ME.