What did you want to be when you grew up? A doctor? An astronaut? Maybe a police officer? When I was little, I always said I wanted to be a “typer girl” or a pediatric nurse. But, as I grew older, I realized that I really just wanted to be myself. I was always bullied and gossiped about in school whenever I stuttered during prayer before lunch or when my best friend and I had a secret handshake or when I said I love the Titanic (1997) film. From the music I love to sing to the company I keep, someone always had something to say about it. But, after so long, I learned to ignore those who didn’t like the real me and just focused on those who loved me for me. My advice to is: JUST BE YOU! I always introduce myself as a proudly weird person because I would rather just be myself than someone I’m not. So just remember, always be yourself and don’t ever let anyone tell you any different!
I learned the importance of family and how fleeting life is. How those we love could be with us one moment laughing, smiling and sharing in day to day events to only be gone in the fraction of a moment. No goodbyes, no reasons why. How important I love you’s and I need you’s are when we have no clue what goes on within each others minds even when we think we do. How fragile we really are as human. And how easily we could lose someone we never thought we would, taking for granted all the moments shared. I lost two younger brothers to suicide after Covid had rolled through. While most people were losing loved ones due to health complications I had lost mine in the matter of a blink of the eye without any warning. I struggled with grief and my emotions. They were only 28 still babies in my eyes as I was the oldest child. Angry thoughts thinking them selfish, thoughts they were weak and should have been stronger. Not understanding and never knowing why. I was a mostly emotionally absent person in the lives of those I grew up with. I didn’t share my thoughts or feelings often and kept others at bay. It’s important to share how we feel with those closest to us and share those private moments where we speak our thoughts, feelings and emotions. It sounds cliche all the quotes and things we see about family, thinking they’ll always be here with us. It’s not like cancer claiming them, knowing in advance what will happen and preparing for it. It’s a sudden flash and a phone call throwing you into a tidal wave of shock and despair. A scream abrupting from your core as you punch at your legs and cry why. It’s the freezing up of the throat as you try to force out the torrential outpouring of emotion coursing through you. The subdued overspent sadness you feel, in watercolor shades washing over you as you try and force yourself from bed to do the mundane tasks of living life. It’s one day getting up and discovering every beautiful detail in life again. All the simple things you’ve ignored before now so important. Blades of grass with tiny dew drops, the clouds lazily moving across the sky, the sound of birds flying overhead. So grateful of every breath taken and living life with childlike innocence again. Life is a magical journey to be embraced and explored. A gift from our higher power. Our families a blessing to share with. Covid also was a lesson in family. Being separated from those we love or loved. Not being able to make hospital visits to those important to us, not being able to say goodbye. Funerals held at bay for several months after the loss of those cherished in our lives. Not being able to make peace with it or find closure the way we normally do. Cherish every moment. Make each moment count. Even those that seem mundane. Don’t take those around you for granted. It takes mere seconds to send a text or make a call. Check in, say I love you often. Be the light in someone’s dark. I explained to someone once that the moon had to work harder to be a light and shine bright surrounded by so much darkness. Be a moon in the night sky, a light to guide others.
this is the obituary you won’t write for me
because I want to taste the words first
I dunk them in the well of my soul
and let the cool water wash away the hurts
let the triumphs and the tragedies dance
across the surface like flower petals
the recipe for a good life is passed down
from old tongues to young ones
and each time it gets a little bit better
measure with your heart
or your hands
but never look at the scale
this is what I have learned
watching my ancestors at the cooking hearth:
sprinkle love on everything
first, water the garden with it
and when the stories and lessons are ripe
harvest them gently
this is what I have learned
while throwing things in the fire
and hoping a feast comes out of it;
no meal comes together without a little disaster
and the bitter vinaigrette of sorrow
pairs best with a sticky-sweet bite of happiness
this is what I want you to learn:
write your own recipe
grow your own truth and
sow your own legacy
and remember you can never over season
anything by adding a little more love
I was asked if I had one message for each and every one of you about one thing I’ve learned in life, what would I say. “The pain won’t last forever.”
That horrible gut wrenching darkness that is nearly squeezing the life out of. That feeling won’t last forever. Tell yourself that and keep pushing through. Every moment ends, and a new one begins. Some last longer than others but the pain will end. So hold tight. Don’t give up.
That anxiety through the roof, heart pounding, sweat dripping, head throbbing you’re feeling? The pain won’t last forever. You will feel yourself again. This will pass. Breathe.
Through my *almost*37 years of life I’ve learned that we suffer a lot. We go through many ups and downs and some people deal with more downs than ups, unfortunately. The one thing that finally clicked with me after years of hearing that I should “take a walk” or “try yoga” or “try painting, you like painting;” was hearing someone say, “the pain won’t last forever.” Those words kept me going. Those words keep me going. They keep me going through low times and also anxiety sometimes. When I’m feeling anxiety I often tell myself “this wont last forever” and it helps me calm down.
So, World, incase you need to hear this: the pain won’t last forever.
Being in love with love
It first starts within
Being in love with self
Then with strangers, family and friends
Learning to love yourself even
When in doubt
Learning to stand alone while figuring everything out
Healing from traumas that others may not know
Stepping into your purpose
Doing your part, so that more love in the world can grow
Being in love with love is spreading peace, happiness and positivity
Being in love with love is loving others outside of me
Being in love with love is loving all……unconditionally
This is the biggest lesson I’ve learned and wanted to share
That no matter what we go through in life
Still show someone else love, and that you’ll always be there
Someone else may have it worse than you
Someone else may need the strength that lives inside of you
So showing love even when you don’t feel it
Is the best healing that you can do
Being in love with love is understanding that within you is where it begins
I am in love with love
Because I know now that in a world full of hurt, evil and pain……..
Spreading love is the only true way we all can win.
From me to you,
which truth is true,
and how to choose between a few,
take this clue and read it through.
When taking pills of red or blue,
when you’re deciding what to do,
you know who will guide you through,
and your perspective He’ll renew,
and give you a new point of view
so you can understand it too.
So, when it comes to what is true,
you should know a thing or two
about how what is new to you
and that you now believe is true,
compared to what you thought you knew,
wasn’t new, just new to you.
Dear Unsealers,
To all those still stuck in addiction, when you stop there’s a big hole missing there are keys to the ignition to higher consciousness to open a closed mind’s vision. Time to cook up some new food for thought when lost dreams awaken I sought it out through prayer and meditation Things will get clearer I’m a witness to trial and error with full dedication. I walked by the side of the Paul Bearer until I had a full revelation. Dropping the ego that was full of frustrations, not mine but thy will be done gives me constant elevation. There’s more to life than just numbing the pain, deeply engraved my scar tissue is being mended and saved. Working through my issues the feeling is brave. Not running from my emotions gives me even better days. Life still happens but freedom from an obsession with things I used to crave is a blessing that I got it before I lay in my grave. I can be better than my past one day at a time at a steady pace. If I keep taking out the trash to create new neural pathways. A simple program for a complicated person if it works it’s working at being a better version. I’m going on an excursion inside of myself throwing out a burden and cleaning house. I know the drill thanks to a higher power and turning over my will is a daily reprieve ‘ a coping skill’. there’s hope to build in the recovery field trying to hold on to old ideas the results were nil. The snake seizes the heel when things seem to have a pleasing appeal. Grab your chest plate, armor, and shield to avoid the triggers, schemes, and treacherous ordeals. We let go absolutely, so I’m here giving freely to fulfill my duties to be a productive member of all communities. The universe is where my immunity lies must stay plugged into the source or my recovery dies .differences of opinions, internal controversy God supplies a higher power to all diversities. Mines, or your understanding of one could set you free from tragedies evil deeds, the planting of a seed. Where excessive greed and compulsion of wants and needs will no longer succeed. I will not Leave the past behind nor wish to shut the doors on our memories. Trust and believe there are therapeutic recipes farther than the eye can see. Research and study a disease that’s been slowly killing me. I take a fearless searching moral inventory so I can process the change slowly surfacing within my story. I found something here that I thought I would never find a gift of gratitude an inner sunshine where love is no longer blind. There was a downhill spiral now it’s an uphill climb but supported at the same time. The journey is being recorded along the way I see the signs. My prayers are being answered as long as I keep reading between the lines. This ain’t a race I see progress through blind faith in a divine. We must not let our fallen die in vain. Recovery is possible when there’s nothing more to lose but everything to gain. We break the chain of insanity and dance in the rain. I feel their pain, I pray they get off the street and find peace. We find strength where we are weak and love once the hate is deceased. This is where it gets twice as deep. I take the cotton out of my ears and put it in my mouth when the speaker speaks. This is where I admit defeat and the newcomer is saved a seat because their life is never obsolete. Have faith to take the leap. The goal is to learn how to stand on our own two feet. Instead of roaming aimlessly, like lost sheep the broader the foundation the higher the peak, and become like that rose that grew from concrete. A true inheritance for the meek, a flood to a leak. We critique the patchwork that is sown into a new lifestyle that flows gently down the creek.
let go.
let go of people.
let go of things.
let go of places.
let go of yourself & all of the negative inner monologues along with it.
let go of labels.
let go of bad habits.
let go of unfulfilling relationships of all kinds; friendships, family, coworkers, romantic partners, you name it.
let go of mistakes.
let go of the past, future & the fear of living for today.
let go of anything & everything that does not resonate this very day.
let go of old perspectives.
let go of previous wounds.
let go of past hurts.
let go of your first & last lover.
let go of lack mentality.
let go of all that was ever known.
let go of anything & everything that no longer rings true within your heart.
let go in exchange to move forward & welcome the unwritten chapters of your life.
hello to new people.
hello to new things.
hello to new places.
hello to new beginings.
hello to new opportunities.
hello to new chances.
hello to new loves.
hello to abundance.
hello to the present.
hello to myself.
let go to surrender to your destined life.
the story is only yours to create,
what will you choose to write?
Dear 8.1 billion of you that I share this planet with:
The vast majority of you I will never meet. We walk separate paths that statistically – will simply never cross in a meaningful way. To the one waking up on the opposite side of earth than me today. To the one I see on the news. To the one who made a TikTok that made me giggle but I’ll never remember your name. To the one who took their child to the very same park I took my son to hours later, but never met.
We live in an era where we’re more connected than ever, and also more divided than ever. The media spins a tale that we are so very different from one another. And yes, it is somewhat true – we are different. We have different backgrounds, different privileges, different beliefs; but one thing remains more true:
We are more similar than we are different.
In another life, that girl you look down upon could be your best friend. In a parallel universe, the homeless man you silently judge on the street corner could be your brother. In an alternate reality, an older woman bagging your groceries could be your grandmother. If there was a glitch in the matrix, that infant crying in the seat next to you on the flight could be your own child.
We are all human beings with beating hearts. If you were to sit down and have a conversation with an individual you think couldn’t be more unlike yourself, I bet you would leave that conversation feeling otherwise.
We are more similar than we are different, and that is beautiful.
I love the way you never give up. I love the way no matter how ruthless, mean, harsh kids were you never stopped being you. You never gave in and became a bully yourself. You always loved so hard with all your heart. You were always there for anyone and helped them to see the light out of the darkest times possible. You had such charisma and character always going above and beyond. You took the cards you were dealt and handled them.
Erin, this is so sweet. Kids can be brutal and always speak their minds, regardless of who they are hurting by saying it. I am glad that you were resilient and didn’t let what others thought of you define who you are today. Great work!
Collecting Pennies: It’s The little things that matter
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I love your true colors, ‘cause you have always been you.
Even when young and the sky was grey
you had it in you to smile and dance in the rain.
This isn’t a poem, but a letter to you-Little Annie
Dear Little Annie I admire you and love you. When I look in the mirror, I try to connect with you. Honesty sitting here at 32 and writing to you is hard. But I’m going to! I love how you were never afraid to write, how creative your mind is. I love how when you put your pen to paper it just seemed to create life. You weren’t afraid to say what was inside, even if it was a fantasy or a story of what could be or a story of processing, even escaping everything you been through…anything really! And here I am struggling to write to you-to me-to us. Girl I’ve been thinking about what to say and write about to you. That is a true shame. I’ve been trying to figure out if I even know you, recognize you or remember any parts of you. So I put this off to last minute, maybe even overthinking which is something I think we both tend to do…that is a real shame too. But when I think of you-my inner self- my inner child, I hide and avoid and I don’t know why. Truly I don’t! truly I don’t know when I pushed you aside. So I write this letter with hopes of finally finding you inside. Little Annie you have 5 children now and all of them are their own people but little mini you’s too!
You have that 1 one that is shy and reserved and a jokester and the right moment will make her come alive, she kind of has a mean streak but still sweet! 1 that is tough on the surface but truly soft underneath…like a sour patch kid “First he’s sour, then sweet”, he longs for love and affection. You have 1 that is just full of love and attentiveness towards you-feels your pain and only wants to be a joy to you! Kind, loving, helpful and a protector at heart. You have 1 that is intelligent, bright (as in a sweet soft light) and brilliant and a little quirky too! Then you have 1, the youngest, who is brave, with a beautiful curious mind. Full of openness and expression and has a passion for fashion. Inquisitive, reserved on for a moment. And, willing to push pass fear. She is blunt and outspoken and a people’s person! what she likes and how she likes it. Damn it, I’m getting teary eyed. All of them are individuals in their own right but are your 5 heart beats- a part of you! You held all these little parts in you. Where you became lost to see you-Allah gave you…you in the physical! How beautiful! That’s why you[I] find it important to nurture and nourish them because in a way you’re [I’m] doing that for yourself[me]. They don’t even know it but they are teaching us to love all of ourself. They bring out the child in me. Playful, creative, explorative, the joker, the reserved and brave one with a mind full of wonders and an energy that wants to be unleashed. You seen the world as many different possibilities, and you never limited yourself. You had a love for the creator and a wonder about His Power and Might. In you, you knew Allah was everywhere and never out of sight. I love that about you because you’re now Muslim! I remember you adopting all the children you can by writing letters and sending “a penny a day” or even throwing away food and money just in case someone went through your trash that day! Wow, I’m just now realizing “a penny a day” is something I say and do! Collecting pennies- the small things add up to big gains! A figure of speech, but when I see actual pennies, I make sure to pick them up! Gives me a reminder along the way! So, I want to thank you and tell you I love you Lil Annie for always being you even when I forget along the way
Love Big Annie!
p.s you and I both love we are named after our Granny!!! Now you’re no longer….Little Annie! In a way!!! Xoxo
Annie, this is so cute! Your younger self would be so happy to hear that you are doing well and that you appreciate every step that brought you to who you are today. Whether it be little jokes, good times, or the amazing people you met, all of the things that little Annie did made you such a good person! Always be grateful for little Annie ♥♥
I love and appreciate you so much. You are beautiful, empathetic, creative, caring, kind, intelligent, determined, understanding, courageous, and the list goes on and on. You have so many amazing qualities, as well as some flaws. I love every part of you but what I love most about you is your resilience. You made it through the hardest times of our life. Some days felt like real life nightmares that you couldn’t wake up from. Most of your nights were filled with actual nightmares that left you in a state of fear even while you were resting. While other nights you were unable to sleep because of the mental anguish you were left in from all of the hardships you encountered in life. You rarely knew peace. You’ve been through things no little girl should ever have to go through. When I think about everything you’ve endured, I want to hug you, hold you tight, and squeeze away every ounce of negative emotions you feel. I know it seems like no one cares about you or loves you but I know one thing for sure, I love you! You’ve been through a lot and through it all, you never gave up, even when you had every reason to. I know at times you asked yourself “Why is this happening to me?” and I want you to know that it’s not your fault. We don’t get to choose the cards we’re dealt, but we can make the most of them. Everything happens for a reason. The dark times are behind you now, so just keep looking forward to the future as I know you like to do. As I like to say, “The darker the past, the brighter the future.” You were meant for great things. You’ve endured things people can’t even imagine going through and you survived. It takes resilience to withstand the pain you’ve endured, whether that be emotional pain or physical pain. They say “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” and this has proven to be very true for you. I appreciate you and your resilience for getting me through those hard times. I love you, younger me.
This is such a sweet letter. Everyone has things that they would have liked to protect their younger selves from. Although this isn’t possible, every event that was maybe traumatic or scary to you as a little kid, shaped exactly who you are today. It sounds to me like even though childhood you went through a lot, she became a terrific person. ♥
I used to be embarrassed
of my sensitivity, my feelings, my heart
I was made to feel ashamed,
like my softness was a weakness
But what I didn’t realize then
was that those who shamed me
felt threatened by my vulnerability
and my capacity to feel
because that was a weakness of their own
Either because they could not understand
what it was like to feel so deeply
Or because they did not know how to respond
to something so profound
Or because they were unable to sit
in the discomfort of vulnerability
Whatever the reason,
it was always their problem-
not mine
My vulnerability, my capacity to feel, my softness,
and my unapologetic need
to express what’s in my heart
This is my strength,
my superpower,
my bulletproof vest
protecting me from regret
ensuring I always stay on the path
that’s intended for me
Sometimes it feels like a curse
to feel everything so deeply
and to be so painfully aware of it all
but I’ve learned to love this about myself
It’s rare, it makes me me
It lets me live my life in full color
I experience every single day to its full capacity
my senses always heightened
my heart sinking and swelling
countless times each day
I feel the entire spectrum of emotion
with burning intensity
all in one day
and I wouldn’t have it any other way
Anything else would feel
boring, dull, muted, incomplete
At least this way,
I get to feel and experience
every single thing
that life has in store for me
My heart, my sensitivity, my capacity to feel,
these things were never a weakness
I’ve just spent a lifetime surrounded
by people who did not understand my soul
but now I understand me
and that’s all I need
Marissa, this is so sweet. Feeling things so deeply is a blessing, not a curse. Your emotional spectrum is just more diverse than others! Sensitivity is never a weakness, you just understand/interpret things in different ways than other people might! Understanding who you are can be a long journey, but I am glad that you have stayed true to…read more
I love this!! :,) I’m glad that you were able to recognize that your sensitivity is your strength, not your weakness. I especially love that you refer to it as a superpower! Go you! <3
Dear little me.
I respect you.
I appreciate that you were strong.
But I don’t love you that you were.
Because you shouldn’t have had to be.
You were the soldier no one noticed.
Even though we’re one in the same.
I know you so well.
But I don’t know how you survived the things you did.
You should never have been drafted.
You were a gentle soul.
Quite, shy.
You wanted everyone to like you.
Not built for war.
But you ended up being the perfect soldier.
A fighter.
Because you fought to bring me here today.
Every day waiting for the car ride home was like preparing to go back into the combat zone.
Fighting a war made up of friendly fire.
Confused why love looks like bullets.
And words are grenades.
Combat medic trying to bandage wounds that won’t stop bleeding while everyone haemorrhages around you.
Blood, tears, and chaos, your constant companion.
Walking to school everyday with seeping wounds no one sees.
Being forced to enlist changes you.
Eyes that have seen too much pain.
Arms tired from holding a gun made for hands bigger than yours.
Unable to relate to your classmates.
Hopscotch didn’t remind them of avoiding explosions.
The sound of gun fire didn’t ring in their ears during class.
It never stops ringing.
Never your own thoughts, just the sound of explosions and gunfire in your mind.
I hate now the coping mechanisms you learned,
but I love that you learned them.
You saw the war we were in and you built us armour with your tiny hands.
You dug trenches to protect us from the onslaught.
Erected a wall to stop the shrapnel of our parents shattered life’s that hit us.
Laced barb wire around our heart so no one could get close enough to take us out with friendly fire again.
The perfect soldier.
You learned the warning signs, the sounds to take cover.
You trained us to raise the walls and bunker down to ride out an attack.
We wouldn’t have survived without your fortress.
The perfect soldier, resourceful.
You learned how to hug yourself alone in your room as you cried.
Now when I see feel warning signs go off
When the alarm sounds off you used to duck and cover so many times.
I feel the walls go up.
And I end up in our bunker because of those that haven’t shot me yet.
I end up feeling trapped inside these walls you built.
I want to resent you.
But it wasn’t your fault.
You had to dig these trenches, you didn’t have a choice.
You laid the bricks of these walls to save us from the sieges that were happening.
You survived in the only way you knew how.
But now our armour doesn’t serve us.
It’s heavy to walk in everyday.
And I’m tired of the echoes of this bunker being my only company.
For years when I recalled you, I thought I was laying white flowers at your grave.
A martyr.
A girl that never truly lived, killed at 10.
Ask to become the parent.
Be the human shield your parents wanted
Ask to die for a cause not about you.
Lay down your life for others.
It was never asked if you wanted it.
To lay your tiny body over your exploding family.
Gone is the little girl that used to throw herself at the ground over and over until she learned to cartwell on her own.
The little girl who felt like she was was so proud of her first poem.
Childhood was ransacked from you.
You never got to think about yourself, you were too busy making sure we lived till tomorrow.
You never thought of today always just dreaming or a day that you could come home from the war.
But you never saw it.
But as I dissect the pieces of me I realise you’re not dead.
You’re just hiding under all that armour.
You’re just trembling in a trench.
Don’t worry; I will find you.
I’ll find the kareells I want to conquer and I throw myself at them for you.
I’ll learn to let someone hug me.
I can’t bring myself to do it for me.
But I can do it when I think of you.
Because it’s hard to love me but it’s easy to love you.
Because I know you deserved more.
We deserved more.
So thank you for your sacrifice.
Everyday I’ll remember as I lay those flowers at the grave of our childhood.
Thinking of you as I take on each new day
Knowing its empty tomb.
You’re not there, you’re in me.
I’ll keep you alive everyday
That I chose to love you.
That I chose to love me.
Wow. I am truly taken aback by how beautiful and creative this poem was. Your comparisons are genuinely some of the best I have ever heard. I feel so terrible for you for what you went through. I am glad that you are working through this and even though you don’t approve of what you went through, you appreciate the resilience that you had that…read more
Big dreams.
Taking up all the space of her young brain.
Big words.
Being consumed and expelled with little gain.
Big eyes.
Wonder-filled eyes of chestnut, of burnt grain.
Big tears.
Rivers and rivers, flooding like rain.
Picture it- a girl that feels so much that she feels everything.
Picture it- a girl that feels so much that she feels nothing.
Picture it- a girl who had a dream to give to the world but it was shattered,
battered,
scattered,
like it never mattered,
causing existential crises as the rain pattered.
Writing every new word she learned.
Seeing opportunities everywhere she turned.
Hoping that pure love could be earned.
Naive to what evils that had to be discerned.
A girl who would let others take and take and take because she knew no other way.
Her heart would break and break and break until she stood up for herself one day.
I am so proud of the young girl that kept dreaming even when things fell apart.
Even when things broke her tender heart.
Even when she felt she could no longer produce art.
Even when she felt she was lost and had nowhere to start.
Girl with a big heart who thought it was a curse.
Girl that fit as many just-in-case things in her purse.
Girl that cared for others as if they were in a hearse.
Girl that gave herself for others, for better or for worse.
Young girl. Little did you know your dreams would come true.
Young girl. Little did you know that person you dreamed of was you.
Catusha, this is beautiful. There is something so pure and fragile about childlike innocence that is so inspiring to me. We all start in such similar ways but everyone becomes different as they age. Your childhood self would be so happy that you as a “grown-up” are so happy and proud of her. ♥
if i could travel back in time
and talk to my younger self
i’d travel back a decade
to time when i was 12
i’d take him to outback
cause it’s his favorite restaurant
find a corner booth and say
“Get whatever you want.”
he would pick something cheap
because he’s trying to be polite
i’d tell him it’s okay
because he’s more than worth the price
i’d ask him about school
and what subjects does he love
i’d ask about his homies
and what girl is now a crush
i’d listen to him yammer
cause i know he likes to talk
pay close attention to
each and every single thought
i’d ask about his clothes
and if he picked them himself
he’d probably say he fly
and he don’t need nobody help
bust out laughing
cause i’d say the same shit
only reaffirming that
i’m still the same kid
we’d split 4 appetizers
2 orders of wings and fries
side caesar salds
tryna balance out the diet
we would chow down
then slide into nerd land
talk about dragon ball, naruto, and spider-man
i’d laugh at all his jokes
even if they kinda corny
tell him that he’s funny
cause that skill gon’ be important
while we wait for dessert
imma ask him how he’s doing
then i’ll ask again
cause that’s where most people lose him
don’t know what he’d say exactly
from so long ago
probably tell me bout his daddy
that got shot some months ago
i’d ask how he’s holding up
he’d assure me that he’s fine
i’d tell him that he doesn’t have to be
all of the time
we’d finish our sweets
i’d finish paying the bill
find a spot outside
me and him could go and chill
then i would reveal
that i’m really future him
he’d ask questions to confirm
i’d complete
and then he’d grin
he’d get so excited
and probably say that i’m cool
i’d probably start crying
from all the joy in the room
i think he’d be surprised
that i did it so fast
cause he hasn’t done it much
since when he lost his dad
i’d tell him that it’s freeing
he should give it a try
hug him with all my being
while he balls from his eyes
tell him he’s okay
that he’s always safe with me
and on his roughest days
to just hold a place for me
i’d tell him that i love him
a hundred and plus times
and don’t be scared to fewl
tryna be some tough guy
cause lil man you special
God put you here for a reason
put words to all them feelings
you gon give people healing
tell him, since i love him
that just means he loves himself
please recall that lesson
every time you need some help
tell him that i’m leaving
but to not be scared
just call me,
and i’ll be right there
Scott, this is so sweet. This honestly made me tear up a little. I know that you went through so much as a kid and having all of those emotions and nobody that truly understands you is never easy to manage. I aspire to be someone who will let people vent about their real emotions, not just the “I’m good” after a “How are you?” Some people just…read more
I had every intention of writing something perfect for this submission, as any artist knows – perfection is the antithesis of the process. Please enjoy, I apologize for any typographical errors, this is being submitted as a first draft – I wrote this in my Uber on the way home from the airport.
Tonight, while flying home from my childhood home, I witnessed a man die for the first time. At 7:18pm, I bought my favorite candy – skittles – and a bottle of water. Boarding started at 7:23 and I was gleeful to make the timing after the abhorrent flight adventure of the past 5 days. I texted my mom, thanking her for the meals she made me while I played cards with my dad each night. There is nothing more privileged than getting to lay your head to rest in your childhood bedroom. My room, once painted hot pink – now the walls are beige – is filled with books, journals, cds and sports participation medals. When I lay in my childhood bed and stare at the ceiling, I can faintly see the pencil reacting from 2000 stating “I love Luke”. Luke aka my elementary school LOVE. It only takes a couple of mornings back home for me to become annoyed with the noise level in the morning. As mom makes coffee, dad opens the garage to leave for work and my sister comes over for breakfast with her son – it only takes a couple of days for me to groan “ughhhh I can’t wait to be back in MY home, MY apartment where none of this noise wakes me up!” I dreamt of being able to say that to myself when those walls were still hot pink. Fantasizing about the cities I’d live in, the adventures I’d encounter. I often lived in my head, seeing the promise of optimism in the world. When I was a child, I believed that the big blue lake sparkled because mermaids had hidden diamonds under the sand. When I stared at the tall trees and their magnificent branches, I thought about how fairies and caterpillars must cohabitate. Because something and everything as wondrous as nature in this physical world MUST include a bit of magic. As I’ve aged, that wonder and amazement has somehow persisted. Through heart break, depression, abuse, loss, desperation – that glimpse of the world with the sparkling waters and magnificent tree branches remain. Albeit, stifled. Pushed down so as to not seem gullible or weak. Compartmentalized so that I can be taken seriously, the way I so badly wanted everyone – specifically my love, Luke – to take me seriously in 2000. My life’s path has been jagged with twists and turns, like most. But when I go home, my home home, not my apartment in Atlanta. Not the rooms all around the country that I so willingly shared the name of HOME with. It is in those moments that I hear her again, whispering in my inner conscious – do you see how the dew collects on those flower petals? Magic. Do you see how the sun shines through the cumulous clouds? Magic. Do you want to go an adventure? Where and how far? The whispers grow as I’m cocooned in my childhood bed, watching the narratives paint themselves over the beige walls until they return to hot pink.
Skittles in hand, I watched a man who was maybe 70 years old topple forward as Zone 4 was boarding the flight. I was Zone 5 and eager to get back home to my apartment in Atlanta. Someone screamed as individuals ran to the large body and turned him over. He was bleeding on his forehead and his limbs were limp. A civilian nurse immediately began CPR after a gentleman yelled “he’s not breathing, call 911”! The rest of the flight backed up to give the first responders space when they arrived at 7:32. They ripped his jeans to give him a shot that I assume was adrenaline, and hooked him up to the AED machine. “CLEAR” they yelled as the man next to me asked the gate attendants when they expected we could board again. A woman standing next to me grabbed my hand, it was then that I realized that we were watching this man leave this physical realm. As tears filled the gate area around me, my own life flashed before my eyes. I thought about my mom’s meals, how loud my family was every morning, playing cards with my dad. I thought about the glistening waters, hugging my dog and how it felt to lay in my childhood bed among my memories. I thought about this man, his family, how did he once see the world? Where was his home? Did he ever get to experience love or feel the magic I so firmly once believed in? By 7:46, they had rolled his body onto the EMS transport and off he went with police escort. First responders left behind shook their heads, wiping off sweat. We were boarded and off to Atlanta by 8:01pm.
I now sit in my apartment and am staring at the ceiling, wishing I could be home again. Nothing feels the same as it did when I bought those skittles.
I have prayed but now, I’ll write this letter to my inner child, reminding her of all that life hopes to bear.
Dear KK,
Never lose your heart. Your sense of humanity. You have experienced the darkest hours and still held on to the light. Your ferocious kindness is a gift, not a weakness to be stifled. Your lust of for learning, your compassion for humanity is a gift – not a hindrance. Although there will be days that the shine doesn’t feel as bright, find the glitter. Sprinkle it for yourself and others. Believe that good will always prevail. Perfection has never been what you seek, stay the course of adventure. Steady the hand that convinces you the world is beige, rather than hot pink. You are all you ever imagined and you have all you could have ever hoped for. Never stop calling in those you love, so that they too can see the vastness of life from your magical perspective. Remember that home is a feeling, one that can be carried with you to many new places and will hold you tight when at terminal A18 in Detroit. Time is an illusion, 40 minutes can feel like a lifetime and for some. I love that life impacts you and you hold it even more close.
Wow, Kristen. What an interesting story. Your letter to your childhood self was so adorable. It is so sweet to look back and remember what made us happy and what we liked to do and then compare it to what are interests are now and how you have changed! Great work!!
I would typically start with something like, “Hope this letter finds you well”, but we both know that’s not the case, so I’ll skip the pleasantries and cut to the chase.
Buckle up, kid. It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.
I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. You’re trying to tune out the fighting, doors slamming, and that bathroom mirror shattering into hundreds of pieces. She’s hoping you’re too young to understand what’s happening or that you won’t remember when you get older, but it’s all still there, locked away in a dusty little cabinet of dark memories. To be fair, most days you won’t think about it, but you can still feel it, like a stain on the carpet that you forget about until company comes over and the whole time you’re wondering if they notice.
I could offer you reassurance that none of this is your fault; that she’s doing her absolute best to protect you, and if she knew how it was affecting you she would have found a way out a lot sooner. I could tell you how liberating it’ll be when you finally watch that gray house get smaller and smaller until it fades in the rearview knowing you will never see it again, or how a musty cot feels like a California king when you can rest your head knowing you won’t be woken in the middle of the night to sneak out to the minivan while he’s still asleep and can’t stop us from leaving.
But I know that’s not enough. You’re living through a hell so few could comprehend, and it’s not fair. No amount of sympathy or advice is going to change that. And even when that nightmare ends it seems like there’s always another obstacle to work around, another person trying to take control, or another consequence of someone else’s bad decisions you have to overcome.
The only thing I can tell you that might give you the slightest bit of hope is this; you are the best part of me. When I can’t get out of bed because the weight is just too heavy, or I feel like I’m not enough, I reach for you. I stare past my reflection in that broken mirror and call to that little girl who is somehow strong enough to get up every morning with the hope that today will be better than yesterday. That girl is scared but strong. She’s angry, but she’s kind. The flames you’re fighting now become the guiding light that brings me back when I forget who I am and what I’m capable of.
This is long overdue because you won’t hear it from anyone else, but I’m sorry. And I am so proud of you.
Alyssa, I am so sorry for what happened to you as a child. I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for you. I am glad you would be willing to tell little you the truth about what will happen to her and not sugarcoat things that aren’t sweet. You are SO powerful! Don’t let anyone take that away from you.
Brittney, I am so sorry for what you had to go through as a child. Sometimes when people are too busy worrying about one thing, they tend to neglect some other major responsibilities. Little Brittney would have loved to hear that you matter and people care about you! Even though it didn’t seem like it, you were and are so, so loved. ♥