There’s a stillness in my maturity and immaturity that’s hard to pronounce.
Hard to pronounce but recognizable. I’ve always seen her there. She is always in competition with my doubt.
Doubt that I am worthy enough to be valued solely because of my soul.
Because of my strength.
My persistence.
I see the “between the lines” in most situations, if not all of the situations especially in regard to communication. You can say all you want and filter your speech but the words unsaid don’t need to have a microscope on them for them to scream at me. Scream, pull, pick. They’re loud and I don’t silence them.
I am astonished by behavior of people that I really thought loved me. And I never want to take selfish turns with my entries, but maturity is also realizing your body is your temple and your mind deserves to thrive in the temple as well. I am so beautiful and proud and grateful. To have a mission to somehow pull that light out of me, and never admit to yourself or frankly anyone else that you’re doing so, is mind boggling to me and will forever remain that way.
The desperation of authentic relationship stains itself into the pages of this chapter in my life. I thought I left that desperation behind chapters ago. I thought I’d be done wanting that outside validation. Wanting it is natural. And another thing I shouldn’t be trying to fray from.
My antics and yours can be celebrated. You can be parallel alongside people. There truthfully doesn’t need to be meshing and mixing. We’re not soup or sauce. You don’t need to scream to the rooftops: “What you want should be exactly what I want, and you better tell me how you’re going to do so. I’ll tell you that you’re wrong again and again. You should do everything my way. You should be ashamed.” For living? Existing? Laughing? Playing?
Life will never be about survival for me. My brother and mother don’t deserve that.
And I’m going to poke a bear even more, but I will try to refrain (out of respect for certain parties) to be specific. Grieving out loud is something I’ve always advocated for. So just because my grief isn’t your biggest fear it’s less valid than another’s grief? You are so weird bro *blows a raspberry at you*.
I think I blended my immaturity and maturity very well in that last paragraph.
Bewildering to me again is how people view a lot of their lives and other people’s lives as competition. Desperation vs Depravity? The same? I don’t know, but you must be starving. To claw at the same things other people do/like, and cast them as your own? I promise there is enough room for you.
I made a terrible analogy in my head yesterday and I’m going to share it because I think I am hilarious (self validation is also something that you don’t need my permission to do or think, right? Just checking).
We both defecate on the floor. I look at my pile and I say, “wow, why did I do that? I’m going to clean that up. I thought it was a good idea before but now I must clean this up and I won’t do it again.” As I’m cleaning my pile up, you place a cardboard box on top of yours. You run over to my side, and you point at me cleaning mine up, jumping up and down screaming, “LOOK AALIYAH JUST POOPED ON THE FLOOR! YOU’RE DISGUSTING. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF. EVERYONE LOOK. SHE’S SO GROSS.”
… Hello? Did you not just do the same thing, and I took accountability and wanted to leave the place better than I found it? Meanwhile, you cover yours.
Your pile is still there.
And it stinks.
The same actions are going to be sanctioned for. I promise.
The only people that are going to reap the consequences are the youth you care for and replenish (I say as I smack my thighs, widen my eyes, and then point straight back at you).
I ponder every day whether or not giving the energy back that I’m receiving is worth doing. Even if you’re not being direct about it.
I come to the realization that you don’t bother me.
My mission is to leave places, people, and environments better than I’ve found them.
And your mission is above what I just wrote about my mission.
Gross.
I’ll love you from a distance even though I will never be offered the same grace.
You’re welcome.
[ Image Description: a toddler, in a green camouflage patterned winter jacket, trekking in the snow. The jacket engulfs him. You can see his nose, and a snow covered mitten hand, and black snow-pants but not much of anything else. In the background are trees with no leaves, a thin strip of the road and power lines crucial in the winter especially to keep warm. He is having the time of his life being blanketed by the snow. I have to remember that whatever season I might view as inconvenient, as long stretched and frigid and full of icy breaths and runny noses it can be, there are people that love it and endulge. Like the beautiful kids in this world, whose futures depend on our attitudes and our permission, frankly. I love this boy a million times over. Photo taken by my sister and we do own the rights to the photo. Thank you.]