I remember the moment I realized my magic was fading. It was a little over a year ago and I was on a school bus chaperoning my sons trip to the Arden Theater and I remember riding down Walnut street on that bus just crying. I felt this overwhelming sadness that I couldn’t shake and I just pulled out my phone and started writing. This is what I wrote:

I hated myself long before I even knew what love was. The blackness of my skin. My short, nappy hair. My pig shaped nose. The dark circles around my eyes. They all were just a daily reminder of just how ugly I was. Socially awkward. I dressed funny. I wasn’t cool. I had no friends. No one liked me. No one wanted to play with me. As I grew older the need for validation tormented my soul. The fake friends, the liars, the manipulators, the users, the sex, the alcohol, the partying, the drugs, the life that was never intended for me was mine and I hated it but I needed the attention. These people, places, & things made me feel validated. Gave me purpose. Gave me life. So I chased them and it. For 30 years I’ve chased them and it and them over and over and over again… and after 30 years I still hate myself. Hold your head high, shoulders back, don t let the world see you’re weak. Walk like a Queen so they don’t see that you’re nothing more than a peasant that hates herself. Paint your face in the mirror. Make it pretty. They’ll notice. You’ll feel good. It worked most days, but not anymore. The ugly pours through the makeup. Not enough to cover that I am not pretty. Not beautiful. So I chase those people, places, & things to make myself feel good until they get tired of me or my body gets tired of it..begging them to stay so that I didn’t have to face myself alone. So that their rejection couldn’t break my heart or my spirit once again. Each time I was broken, i got back up and chased another validator to make me feel…whole. But now there’s nothing left to pick up. My spirit has been broken for so long i don t remember it’s warm resilient reminder that life is good. People are good. Love is…good. I am in pieces that I cannot seem to get back together. I can’t catch my breath. I’m suffocating in my self hate. My daily torment. I wake up wishing I was smaller, prettier, richer, wanted, loved, appreciated, valued & that I could love myself! Wishing i could be seen! I’m breaking more every day. Sinking deeper into my hatred and self pity. My children…what will my children think of me? They keep me afloat, but it’s not enough to stop the sinking feeling i have in my soul. I’m filled with pain…make it stop. Make me right for once. I’m a black girl with no magic. No love for herself. No spark to fuel the fire dying to burn inside me and ignite my life! Im broken inside. Dying more and more each day. I want to be free!