a heavy heart

From a tired, heavy heart.

I’m scheduling this for my newsletter, in pain, tired, exhausted at what feels like one of the hardest 6 months of my life.

At many times it has felt like the most fulfilling but the painful moments have been unfortunately as prevalent as the bad.

I try to only share things here when I have good news or words to offer that I think build people up or are essential, but right now all I have to offer is a heart that feels too heavy.

Right now all I have to offer is a desire to do good for others in situations that feel like they are made to stop that.

Right now I have a deep hole that people keep chipping away at, and I don’t understand why. I wrote last week that I feel like Job, a figure (whether you are religious or not, drom the storytelling side) that represents relentless pain and unbearable suffering that seems to just continually arise at the worst moment. People who you trusted crumbling that trust in front of others. Places that you thought were safe being unsafe. At some point ironic by Alanis Morisette isn’t even enough to illustrate the circumstances.

If I went through the laundry list you’d swear I was making up cases.

(the most recent fiasco)

You have people insist that for bad things to happen, you must be bad when we know that isn’t how the universe works. At a certain point you can claim day and night what the truth is and people will make their own. That is a tragedy, but it is life.

Little dark skin Black girl know-it-alls that grow up to be big dark skin Black girl know-it-alls don’t get the chance to make what people view as mistakes. The paper our degrees come on don’t sit high enough for those who view us unworthy. Our papers don’t weigh enough.

Our frustration is viewed as straight aggression. We are called escalators when we don’t openly take a lash. The harm against us is viewed as deserved. We started it and someone always saw where we ended it somehow, but never where it actually began.

No matter how qualified a bold bald twenty-something is, she will still not be qualified enough to someone who views themselves as superior. To the women of all backgrounds that view her as a threat, she’s a little bitch who hasn’t earned her place. They view your presence as violence and they justify or elicit violence against you.

It is never enough because people don’t want it to be enough.

I believe anyone can do good. I believe anyone can be redeemed that chooses to be redeemed but I’m learning that sometimes people just don’t want to do anything else.

I am so grateful for the people that have supported my work over the years.

I am grateful for the people that have defended me not just in private but in public when the benefit was nothing more than friendship.

There’s only so many attacks, so many veiled and explicit threats, so many knives in someone’s back that a person can handle before there’s just a bunch of skin covering blades.

I am grateful for every life I’ve ever touched, I try and remember them all. I’m grateful for every life that has ever touched mine, but now I’m tired and something has to change.

I hope by the time this goes out I will have more light but until then I love you all in every way.

Sometimes the sun burns too bright.

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