#blackwritersmatter

Why do you repeatedly call me ugly?

Why do you say I’m darker than you constantly?

Like my complexion is something to be ashamed of. I am not you nor do I want to be you.

Why aren’t you happy for me when I succeed?

You never spent time with me as children. You abused me as a child. Both physically and emotionally.

The envy and jealousy you emit is suffocating.

It brought me down to a level of self-hate. So much so I tried to end my life.

Why can’t you be happy for me?

Why is it always a competition between us?

Shouldn’t you raise me up the way I do to you? You are the second oldest and I the youngest.

Aren’t you ashamed of your behavior towards me?

Now you don’t speak to me as though I did something wrong?

You told me your dreams. I was excited for you. Encouraged you...

I told you my concerns. You got upset with the truth.

You want to be a great performer. But you don’t practice your craft.

How do you expect to be your best when you don’t put in the time or effort.

Yes there is natural talent, but in order for you to be the best you have to work harder than everyone around you.

Now I got something for myself that I am striving for and your jealousy almost broke me.

But I know now, I cannot trust you with my dreams or aspirations.

I hope one day you will see your faults. But as for now I will be happy for myself.

I will succeed without you. Because I never needed you I wanted you.

Too often we tell ourselves that we are not good enough for the task at hand. We diminish our own talents, and make our self feel so small, that even the mole hill looks like a mountain. 

As of late I have found myself on yet another journey of self discovery. It seems as though each year that passes brings bigger obstacles, and scarier realities. 2020 has not been a year for the weak of heart. Between COVID-19, being a new mother, and the daily ups and downs of life, sometimes I want to throw the towel in. However, as I sit in my first art gallery showing, watching patrons come and go, reviewing my work, I cannot help but use that towel to wipe my sweat. 

Sometimes I am far too hard on myself. I finally made it to one of my goals, an art gallery. It is an honor to be a part of this experience. This post is merely a reminder to #BeYourOwnPinnacle. It’s hard enough having others tell you who you can and cannot be. Give yourself permission to be exactly who you are. 

Peace, Love, and Sunflower Dust,