i used to be steady. i used to be steady as a rock. nothing could move me, rattle me, shake my vision. sometimes to a fault.
i miss her, i miss my fearless self. she was younger, stronger, braver–so sure. and now i feel like i have become a bundle of fears, worrying about other people more than myself, and seeing where i’m wrong. and maybe this is what happens to women of color, we get our strength beaten out of us by a world that would rather see us as shadows. maybe i am mourning for something that will never come back. maybe this is better, now i can see all sides of something. almost too well.
what am i afraid of? maybe this is what happens after you’ve lost some things. and that losing never really leaves you. maybe this is what happens after you’ve seen the damage that fearlessness can do. maybe.
but still, the question bubbles up inside of me, rolls around my head, slinks behind my every move: what am i afraid of? there is nothing left to lose now, except the thin illusion of the shell of safety. i am standing by the ocean asking it to promise not to drag me down before i dare to enter. that is not how the ocean works. it is not answering. it is laughing at me, mocking me, pittying me.
and the horizon lies in front of me, the land at my back. or is it the other way around? how do you know when it is time to leave? maybe that’s where she has gone, my fearless self, maybe she has gone to the horizon. maybe she is not lost at all. maybe she is just waiting for me. calling me to come back to her, after all, she must miss me, as she rides the sea foam of each wave. she must miss the rawness of my pain and the thunderous beats of my heart.
i miss her.
she is worth swimming against the current for. she is worth the ocean. we are.
13 responses to “we are worth the ocean”
That’s such a wonderful post !!!!
Since a few months (have a year?) I feel afraid of so many things which wouldn’t have frightened me before, too.
Might be because I am still in the process of loosing friends, ideas about who I am, and stuff…. To me it feels like I have been hurrying to jump from am cliff and now that I am at it’s edge I hesitate and struggle to hold my balance – not jumping/ falling but not really stepping off the edge either…
Thank you for articulating this strange/ uncomfortable feeling and therefore making it a shareable experience.
beautiful …. and yes …. and yes.
I am sorry for your loss.
thanks, the cliff image and metaphor feels so real to me too. <3
You did it once again, Mia. Beautiful. Is there anything you need?
Thank you Mia..You are so gifted..I love you Mom
so glad you put this to words & shared it with us. xoxo
You articulate the feeling of loss/fear so well…thank you for your beautiful writing.
I loved this. Glad I ran across it. :)
” i have become a bundle of fears, worrying about other people more than myself, and seeing where i’m wrong. and maybe this is what happens to women of color, we get our strength beaten out of us by a world that would rather see us as shadows.”
Maybe it is. But reading this post makes me think we can get our strength back somehow.
Recently I told a friend I needed something good to read, so she refered me to your blog. And I must say… it is absolutely what I needed! I love this post because recently, I felt like I had forgotten my old self. BUT, I found her again. In finding her I learned how to find her when she isn’t in sight— maybe, after this practice of hide and seek I will be able to learn her best hiding places and she won’t be hiding for so long next time for me!
I think your expression resonates in general … perhaps it’s part of the plan …we lose ourselves and our path includes finding our way back …whatever our distinct challenges (real or perceived). I am not a woman of color, yet feel beaten down… I do not have a disability, yet am mourning the loss of strength and power. I am a white, straight woman, born and raised in America, non-disabled, seemingly privileged. So different and yet we are very much the same, you and I.