Being Human

Even though I had to find all the pieces on my own, and I’m still finding them, and processing how to make all the pieces fit, the reason why it hurts so bad is because I love my parents, they’re a big part of me, and as I put my whole self back together, I’m not complete without them, too.

They might not ever fully understand, but they’re trying.  They still say things that are still completely oblivious and full of white privilege, but they’re listening and they’re learning.  I still get angry, but they let me.  I speak my whole truth, and they believe me.  And I’ve only just now started to grieve, but they’re here for me.  And they’re sorry.  And I forgive them.

I didn’t have the privilege of screaming on social media “Black Lives Matter” when all of America’s painful truths started to surface and then stop the work when it came to myself and my own family.  I didn’t have the privilege to avoid looking at my own painful truths and the truths of my past, present, and future.  I didn’t have the privilege to give my parents a pass because “they’re old and they’ll never change” or my friends a pass because I didn’t want to lose them.  Having that privilege for me meant staying in pieces, being forever in survival mode, and worst of all…passing the trauma - my personal ones, and the systemic ones on to others.  Giving myself, my parents, and even my closest friends a pass on caring for humanity and doing the work meant muffling my soul, my true self, and never knowing real love - through the good, the bad, and the growth.  But if I can change, and my parents can change, even after 75 years, I believe in humanity.  I believe love conquers all.  I believe in me.  I believe in them.  I believe in you.