The Missing Piece

It may be hard to understand but it’s one of the most valuable and most honorable things to feel.  I woke up crying this morning for maybe the 1000th time.  Wondering why I could never feel it.  Knowing whatever the reason is, is the reason why I’ve had troubles giving it.  I wasn’t taught what it means or It wasn’t defined for me.  Sure, I appreciate gifts and the joy that came with it but this was not, in fact, a need or want.  I stood alone for years trying to figure out where it comes from.  I’ve had desires that were hidden within to avoid judgments.  No one wants to be dragged down by views of “trusted” ones. And no one wants to live in fear.

I wanted to make “her” happy, so I followed “her” desires that “she” had for me.  I had no other advice.  It was assumed that I knew how to grow into an adult.  So the many mistakes I made, I was looked down on and criticized.  Being called names. Being told that I’m stupid. And being punished physically.  But no one thought to give in time with me before a mistake could have ever been made. No one showed me how to self-respect.  Morals weren’t discovered.  Lies were told for engaging manipulation. Forcing the mind with fake dreams and covering the possibilities of becoming my own captain.

I wish I could have been driven to be the best I could be then.  Yet, I was told I was beautiful and smart.  Beautiful from having very few fine features, the meaningless matters.  And smart from being first to bring home straight A’s which was easy being in a dominant area in a low-quality school that provides low-quality education.  Forming me into an individual who’s prepared to be unprepared for any situation thrown at me.  But it hits me hard once I’m criticized for making a wrong decision.  Being told that I’m doing it wrong when no one cared to show me in the first place.

As a kid.  I wanted to be accepted.  I wanted the ones who love me to understand and care about my desires.  I wanted my family to teach me values and lessons of the many possibilities I could face alone.  I wanted them to be involved in my decision making, to a certain extinct, for guidance and positive opinions.  I just wanted them to love me and love who I am.

I’ve only been competing with black women during this so-called growth.

A “black woman” has been an enemy since my beginning.  And it took me 32 years to finally end reviewing my past.  It took me 32 years to figure that the women around me are full of shit and isn’t capable to provide me with a sense of character.  It took me 32 years to understand that once you become an adult you can no longer blame another woman for your mistakes but to understand who you are, to love yourself for what you’ve learned and are able to do now and to strive to be the best woman you can be.  I can never depend on anyone to give this to me.

It took me 32 years to love me and to love everything about me.  It took me 32 years to finally forgive those that I’ve blamed.  I went through battles and circumstances alone and now I am still standing alone and proud to be the woman that I am.  This missing piece is finally discovered.  If you don’t love yourself you will never love anything or anyone who crosses your path.  You for sure wouldn’t grow.

Now, I appreciate myself.  I also appreciate negative views and comments as well as positive views and comments. I’m thankful for my educator, Life, as I am where I am today because of it. And it’s wonderful to overcome fear.


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