After the ending of my last marriage, and surviving COVID-19, I decided to go back to therapy. I decided that what I was going through, I didn’t haven’t whatever I needed on the inside of me to handle it.
The Black girl is tired. The Black woman is exasperated. I needed help.
In this space of trying to be mother and superhero–I ran out. Completely spent! I had to make the decision to keep getting hurt think that was my lot, or decide to do the harder thing and heal.
In my sessions with my therapist, I was scared to open up, felt like I had to have all the answered, and feeling like (on some level) I still had to solve it. My therapist told me this, and I have stewed on it ever since. She said, “What would it mean for you to not have all the answers?”
And I froze.
I had always been in the position where I had to know. I had to figure out! There was never anyone in a relationship that I could count on to take this weight from me. And it was from there, that I had to admit that how I was going through my life was nothing less than survival mode. Which is counterproductive to where I want to go, and things I want to do.
When I admitted this, after my session, I was silent. I was hurt. But I was determined to go forward. Which goes to what I say now: Healing is hard, do it anyway.
The Ideal Firestarter 