A Crown of Flowers
What does vulnerability look like?
Does it cry when it feels pain?
does it yell?
Does it hold everything in?
What does Vulnerability smell like?
Does it smell like a home cooked meal
A favorite fragrance that smells like home?
What does vulnerability feel like?
Is it the warmth of lit candles during an Intimacy Ritual?
Does it feel like the gentle hands across back, hips and thighs?
What does vulnerability sound like?
Does it’s moan in ecstasy send tingles up your spine?
Does it speak with an enlightened state of being, that often goes over your head?
How Problematic Has It Been For Us, That I Regarded These Things As Transparency, And Neglected To Share My Pain? I Thought, If You Didn’t Ask Then You Didn’t Care. Never Truly Letting You In.
I Thought I Had Given You My All.
When In Reality, I Was Only Giving My Healed Pieces, Or What Was Comfortable To Share.
I Mean, Is It My Responsibility If You Didn’t Ask?
When You Told Me, “I Got Issues…” I Said, “Well, Don’t We All?”
I didn’t feel the need to mention that my “Issues” stemmed from years of abuse which I endured as a child? Beatings, starvation, neglect, torture. Yes, even that. Would that have been my real truth? I mean, I’m comfortable saying, I’m a queer black woman. Intellectual, theologian, healer, survivor. Still, I never shared the gravity of what made me these identities. the puzzle peaces of me. I never told you how I feared rejection, which happened nonetheless when I came out to my family. I never expressed how books literally kept me sane, and education saved my life, gave me meals, and was my escape from the abuse at home. I didn’t tell you about the nights I cried out to God, praying things would get better than what they were. My first acts of faith- getting through what I’d been through, taught me there had to be a god. But experiencing so much pain told me, that this god had some explaining to do.
I spent most of my childhood obese, you know that part. But did you know I spent the better of 5 years not able to breath due to acute asthma, plagued with open sores on my neck and arms due to eczema? I first healed myself at 16, during a church service. with all the faith I could muster, asking God to take this affliction away – and It worked!
I say all this, while there is so much more, because I wanted to share some vulnerability.
This open letter, is the only way I can release this pain I feel inside. I’ve been so hurt because of what appears to be your unwillingness to fight for love. To overcome obstacles to reach a desired goal. I’ve seen you give so much to some. Not to others. Picking and choosing who was worthy of your love. I just didn’t know I was ever going to be on the list of unworthy…
Perhaps it’s you who feels unworthy? Unworthy of being loved unconditionally, for the first time ever.
revealing your only limitation to be your lack of faith in your own Super Powers.
I’ve realized that I can’t make anyone see the God I see in them. When all they see is a fragile boy.