It was a Saturday.
I walked out of the DSW after using a giftcard to purchase shoes for my godsisters wedding. I was met by cop cars and flashing lights and a crowd surrounding a man, who laid on the ground bloody. Not a totally unusual scene for Union Square.
There you stood overlooking with a cautious yet caring eye. I knew you were feeling heavy from the weight of life. I admired your transparency. I too was feeling broken under the harshness of life.
I tapped your arm and in all your fierceness turned around with “Ah! I am so happy you are here” These words have become my affirmation. I am here!
We talked about life in all its complexities, transformations and rainstorms. The details of our exchange will remain between you and I, for its sacred.I sung to you: Its ok to be sad sometimes. We hugged multiple times, good hugs that only two fat fabulous sisters could give each other. For that one moment we didn’t feel alone in our loneliness, alone in our hurt, alone in our not being ok. We had each other. It felt good.
You walked away pulling a suitcase behind you. You turned to me and said “We have to get tea”, which was an affirmation that our divinely “random” running into each other reminded us of how much we had in common, how much we really liked each other and above all else we are sisters.
You went into a store.
I went into Forever21 to get a new outfit for my early bday transformation haircut. I was determined to feel renewed, so I made the decision to cut off all my hair. Cutting off my hair has become a ritual of cleansing and releasing the past. Getting a new outfit insured that when the cape was removed I would be reborn into eveythang brand new!
Tuesday was my 32nd birthday and I felt released and closer to a path of healing. I thought of you and was going contact you for our tea date.
True to fashion of our modern times, I checked my social media for bday love messages. As I scrolled my timeline I saw a beautiful collage of you by our mutual internet sista Keena. I read the caption and my heart dropped.
On Sunday, the day after we loved up on each other, you decided to it would best for you to leave this world by ending your life.
My life has been forever changed by our last moment together.
I may have been the last person to hug, sing and consul you. The Universe trusted me with that divine task. The Universe knew we needed each other. We needed to see our reflection each others eyes. We needed to be affirmed.
This world, a world we sometimes just merely exist in…….I am living more now, is harsh on the bodies and souls of black, fat, femme, differently abled, queer women. The Universe knows this. The Universe knew we needed that moment to be released, understood and held.
I believe this to be true.
Taueret, I am better. My healing, our collective healing, has become apart of my work. I have reignited the poet,performer, artist and activist within. I am committed to addressing how WE sustain and care for each other.
To do our work we must remain connected to the collective emotions (the trauma,joy,discomforts, IT ALL) in order to heal and advocate for our community. Its exhausting! We must be a master empath. But who loves the lover, who heals the healer, who fights for the fighter, who gives to the giver, who teaches the teacher, who replenishes our well! We make ourselves visual for the empowerment of not only our lives but others. But when do we live in the abundance,take a break, get some recharging going, do we know how to? Perhaps our healing can found in the work. I am committed to finding pathways to self care, love and healing. I do it for us Taueret.
Sometimes I am angry. Angry that you are gone. Angry that we must learn how to live under siege. Then I am reminded by our mother ancestor Lucille Clifton to celebrate!
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
-Won’t Celebrate with Me
I understand why you choose to leave,sometimes the rainbow just ain’t enough!, I love you. I hope you found peace. I know why you left, I know why so many of us leave. I know why so many of us stay.
In honor of you, our moment and my re-birthday I had a gratitude and celebratory tea party with the village that held me down, my anchors, when I almost slipped away. Over laughter, tears, dancing and many hugs we had the tea that you and I never had the chance to share. It was beautiful. We celebrated!
You were there. My sisterfriend gifted me a yellow Venus of Willendorf candle!!! The symbol you wore on your chest. The symbol that made us first connect in the hallway of a Brooklyn apartment building getting some air from the first Sweat parties.
I miss you although I know you are always with me.
I am closing this letter with a poem I wrote, it dedicated to all of us magical black girls.
Thank you for that day.
I love you.