“You’re crying over spilled milk.” “Just get over it.” “You’re not making it better by harping over it.” “ I know you feel like your life is over but you will love again” “Maybe you’re bipolar” “Are you pregnant”
These are all comments that I’ve received since I hit what feels very much like an emotional “rock bottom”. *insert pleasure p’s voiceover* Not only were they insensitive but they were eye opening.
How could people that I’ve been so supportive to be so cold in my dark time? Why wouldn’t they scratch my back if I have scratched theirs for so long? If I’m dealing with depression and I’ve expressed suicidal ideations, then why wouldn’t they care enough to just check on me? Wouldn’t they be concerned if they really cared?
But the real question I should have been asking myself is why am I here, at an emotional “rock bottom”? Why are so many people that I consider to be “close” so selfish? And why hadn’t I felt the need to be more like them. Maybe I’m at rock bottom because I’ve been so available to others and too unavailable to me.
You know, the whole “I can’t pour from an empty cup” schpill that’s all over the Internet? Yeah, there’s truth to it.
Or maybe I hadn’t been carrying the spirit of “fuck you” heavy enough or even at all. But the younger me, that firecracker did. She understood the importance of fighting for herself and living out loud. With minimum to no fucks and she was happier because of it.
That is, of course, B.F. “before fuckboys”
Its crazy that the “real one” who can “light your fire” can in the same breath, be the real one to put that motherfucker out.. but I digress.
So I’m gonna tell you how I’m working to level tf up in 2020. Yes, tf. Because that’s just how real this healing is.
I’m doing things that me b.f (before fuckboys) would do, you know.. to reignite that fire. Channel that inner yonce energy! Getting back to me, if you will.
I’ve saged my house more in 2020 than I have in my life. And we’re only 20 days in. But who’s counting.
I’m meditating. Silencing the noise because it’s really all just some bullshit.
I’m laughing at any mother fucking thing. *drag it out like Bernie Mac would for a giggle*
I’m dancing and SINGING to the top of my lungs . Regardless of who’s watching. Because… who give a fuck who’s watching?
I’m facing fears.. the ones that I developed a.f (after fuckboys)
I’m calling myself on my bullshit. Because how dare you not be tf poppin behind some bullshit. Like, tf?
I’m praising myself. Reaffirming myself. Reassuring myself. Because there aren’t enough “you dat bitch(s)” or “you’re it girl, you’re the shit girl(s)” a girl can get. Thank brother of the night for the second affirmation.
I’m processing and detaching from all emotional trauma that i didn’t know I accepted as my norm. Do know that your bullshit can be your new norm and start a whirlwind of low standards and bad choices that your older self could never thank your younger self for. But forgive yourself. We’re all human at least once.
I’m faithin’ it and going after what’s mine. Cause everything I want is waiting on me. And there’s not a replica alive that could take it from me. It’s true. There’s NO ONE that’s more YOUER than YOU.
Elle, A Grown Ass Black Woman