If you’re reading this in May 2020 then you are well aware of what life has been like during this pandemic. Most of us Americans, and the rest of the world have been quarantined for the past three months to what now feels like a lifetime. Some are playing their parts to keep the numbers of cases stable, others feel like their invincible, and I shamefully fall somewhere in the middle of hopeful & hopeless.
Whether we are mentally accepting our worldly crisis or adapting to a possible new normal, we all are fighting this “together”. But that’s the cliche, isn’t it? The reality is some of us are waging this battle alone. If you are….my heart is with you. The beginning of the quarantine was expectedly lonely so to past time, mental stimulation has been the best way for me to avoid being underwhelmed. Reading, journaling, research, cooking tutorials, and any other material has been my jam lately. So as I was listening to a thought provoking podcast, up came the topic of family dynamics of each host and then a deeper dive specifically in the black community. Their stories were parallel to my own. Absent fathers, half siblings, broken relationships, and all of the other factors which are no longer jarring.
In a later post I’ll engage into the specifics of my own story, for now this is simply a rant to express; I’m no longer contempt with this family dynamic in the black community. Our relation to one another shouldn’t be the trauma and emotional baggage we carry in silence from our childhoods. The terms are simply unacceptable, exhaustive, and intolerable. I’m no advocate to speak on what the solution is, but I recently made the decision to no longer be a product of someone’s negligence. A lot of self reflection has inspired me to do the internal work to restore any parts of myself that did not feel whole, to rekindle family relationships that are not a lost cause, and to let go of the ones which are no longer beneficial to my life. This is phase one of breaking the generational curse, because it starts with me.