A Slightly Mushy, Happy Post

This might be a really crappy post because I am trying to listen to my mother talking while also doing what I said I would do today. Which is… Write a happy post!

I was going through my posts and realized how freaking depressing they are. As a group. Some of them just are. They are neither sad nor happy nor anything else in particular. But then lump them all together and I am running around like a madwoman trying to figure out how to make myself a not so miserable person.

Until I realize that I’m not quite a miserable person. My life can be fairly miserable and I certainly have days where I want to curl up in a ball and stop existing, but there’s a lot of good in it. I have time to read books and to wander through woods and I have a roof over my head and a job and thus some form of income. I have clothes and paint and ways to play music.

And what most days is the most important thing, I have amazing friends. Sometimes I miss the heck out of my old group of friends and, gods, do I wish some of them were still in my life because there are moments that don’t feel entirely complete without them, but I adore the friends I have now. I love wandering in the woods with them. I love the honesty and truth in each of them and how open and real they are. I love cracking them open and having them crack me open in return. I love that I have found a group of people that I know I can trust with pieces of myself. I love knowing that I can call some of them up crying and it’s okay, they don’t care (Or, they do care, they care so much, but not in a negative way). Heck, they might even call me up first. And have, on multiple occasions. I love the nights that I can’t fall asleep because I spent time being alive with these wonderful people and the happiness I feel at being able to have them in my life is buzzing through me.

Recently, I have been so grateful for them. For every single one of them, from the friend (ish) person I have known since I was 12 to the friend (ish, in another way) person at work who I can sit and talk about guys with.

So that’s some happy. And I could go on, about friends and about other good things in my life, happy things, and I am sure I will at another point in time (actually, I know I will, mwahaha), but it is late and I have things to do in the morning and I really want to post this while it is still Monday somewhere (still living in New York is good for one thing, at least), even if it is a messy post and it isn’t even attempting to be written eloquently or to impress anyone. But, that’s what happy things are sometimes. They are blunt and a bit jagged, but in a good way. They don’t have everything smoothed down to perfection. They are moments of honesty rushing up and taking shape without being forced into a specific one.

And I am fortunate to have a lot of those moments, even if sometimes the other moments outnumber them by a ton. But the wonderful thing is that one of those moments, of happiness, outweighs a handful of the not so great moments.

I hope that, whoever you are reading this, you are surrounded by a group of people who care, who will prove all your doubts wrong, who will wander through woods, both real and metaphorical, and you will know the happiness that a good group of friends gives. And I hope you find happiness in the little things, that you brush your soul against the facts and find peace in the details.

~Kiartha Qwon’um

Despite What You Told Me

Dear Church,

Dear Family,

Dear Ex-Lovers and Ex-Friends,

Dear Myself,

Despite what you told me, what you showed me, what you ground into my being with a sharp heel,

I am worth something.

I have flaws. I have anger and I have rage. I have moments of weakness and I have unbridled strength.

I have failed many times. I will fail many more.

My victories are few, but they are there.

I have scars. Ugly twisting scars. I have lines on my skin and on my soul. But that does not diminish my beauty, despite what you say from the mirror, from your pedestal, from your spot as you walk away.

I have fought to love. I have fought to care. I have fought to feel. I have fought to live.

And here I am. I will love and I will care and I will feel.

Despite you.

You told me I cannot speak. You took my words, you twisted them, and you wrapped them around my throat, hoping I might choke on them, waiting for me to be silent.

And I was.

I shut myself up, locked myself away.

I was ashamed of everything I thought, everything I wanted. You made me believe that I did not deserve to think such things, to want such things, to dream such things.

I wanted knowledge, I wanted answers. I wanted to push against the walls of injustice. I wanted to love the unlovable and feed the forgotten. I wanted to be loved, to be heard, to be accepted. And you told me I couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t be allowed to.

Every time I forgave, you told me I shouldn’t have. You told me forgiving was the worst thing I could do and you hated me for it. You taught me to love unconditionally, you asked me to love you unconditionally, and when I did, you told me I was wrong.

You told me everything good about myself was wrong. That it was evil. That even the parts of myself I liked were too damn fucked up. You told me this for years.

And I believed you.

I believed you all this time. I let you trick me into thinking I am worthless. That I have no value.

I have looked in the mirror and I have seen a monster.

I have hated myself. I have hated every inch of my being and I have wished that I would collapse in flames.

I allowed you to use my wings as shackles.

But not anymore.

Despite you. To spite you. Because I am not a monster, there is something in me and it is good; I do not need you to be okay.

I will love. I will forgive. I will speak up. I will fight. I will get mad when I see bleeding hearts. I will look in the mirror and see a face that maybe can’t be loved, but it’s not because she doesn’t deserve to be.

Despite everything you have told me since I was born,

I will not be ashamed of myself.

I will not ask forgiveness for my existence.

I will not apologize for being alive and for loving.

I will not continue to see myself as worthless. Perhaps you cannot see my value, but it is there, despite what you told me.