Finding that “something stronger” has been an adventure I didn’t sign up for. In fact, one I never wanted to go on, ever. Adventure implies that there’s a thrilling element to it, an element that is alluring and draws thrill-seekers to its glimmer, like a mirage in the desert. My adventure has been anything but alluring, attracting, or admirable.
My purpose in this post isn’t to seek the affirmations of my friends, family, or followers. It is for visibility. To show that while my chosen adventures of running a bookstagram, a (soon-to-be released) website, a career teaching children with special needs and loving them as my own children, at the end of the day, I’m still on the side quest of searching for the “something stronger, something real” inside.
My absence may not have been noticed or felt, which doesn’t bother me in the slightest, but it was for a few reasons. The first being vaguely described above. I’m not sure why I’m hesitating to call it an “illness” in the proper sense because in essence it’s caused me physical pain and strife. Regardless, that’s the foremost reason. Secondly and simultaneously, I took the time to tune out irrelevant voices and topics to really hone in on the ones that needed listening to, amplifying those voices through channels and platforms I was able to utilize. Spending time organizing and taking part in book clubs to hear, see, learn, and feel as much as I’m able to about the lives of marginalized groups. To step back and recognize my part in all of this and how to change my own actions in an effort to halt the propagation of ignorance, prejudice, and hatred within my community and those that I surround myself with. Educating family and friends that have been and are still living in their privilege and are able to use it to deny its very existence. This will remain ongoing because Black lives STILL matter and mattering is the MINIMUM.
All of this is to say that I love you all, I have missed you immensely, and I will continue to search for the “something stronger, something real”.
