How do I even start this letter? How do I find the words to tell you, little sister, it was NOT your fault. None of it was ever your fault.
In the last few months you've been sad and spiraling into the curse that has plagued our family for years...depression, and I know you see it, too. So let's talk this out starting with our Father. Yes I know you would like to paint a rosy picture of what life would have been if he was around but that's because you were too young to remember him and his trifling ways.
No he never hit mommy or cursed at her; he tried to break her emotionally. And I'm sure in private she had her moments but then she looked at us and knew it wasn't worth it. HE wasn't worth it. Our mother chose to raise us. She wasn't abandoned as so many single moms are. She called to her ancestors, her father long passed away and she prayed for strength and they delivered her and US. Though a crucial part of our lives was without the daily presence of a father, we were 10 times luckier to have a mother that moved mountains. We were afforded opportunities that other kids never would have had.
Take a minute and look back on our lives: you were 10 years old in Hawaii, a featured dancer with your African dance troop, and spent an entire Summer in Spain. How many kids did we know that could say these things? Even with two parents.
Mommy worked hard for us, going to a dead end job so she could afford to finish her studies, even taking us to class with her sometimes. She never complained, she just did it! She never once blamed us for his behavior, she even kept his last name to stay connected to us, and she never made us feel like he was an evil person. Her exact words "Some people just aren't ready to be full time parents, but you should still love your father, he loves you".
As we got older he'd appear here and there but mainly it was a check in the mail, a birthday card, an amazing drawing of the three of us but that never filled your void, never filled mine either.
And then I turned 25 and I made a decision to get closure on my own, because clearly he wasn't going to ever provide that and honestly I wasn't interested. I've been free of him for 10yrs now. And in that 10 years I've taken the path my mother prayed for all those nights and now its your turn! You're a beautiful, smart, and talented woman and you are throwing all that out the window because you want for a father, a father that even now manages to only appear when he feels the need to. He hasn't changed, HE WON'T change. But you have to before this eats you alive.
If you don't do it for you do it for your daughter and your mother. But it's time! It's time to stop blaming yourself and lay that emotional burden at the feet of your God and walk away. I promise you it's a lot easier and painless. When we were kids you would recite John 3:16 over and over "for God so loved the world he gave his only be gotten son" well Lil Sis he gave his son so you would never feel like you had to save the world, the people of the world, YOUR FATHER included.
Now you're grown and you feel like some of the bad decisions you've made relate to him. Well, maybe they do. It's still no reason to continue making bad decisions. You're not 17 anymore. My point is that you've learned to recognize the bad so now you need to rid yourself of it and reclaim your happiness. A happiness that you're only entitled to if you participate in it.
I'm sure if you got a chance to read this letter you'd ask me why I'm writing this? Well I'm worried about you, and more importantly your daughter. She's experiencing the same thing only worse because she's an only child. Who does she have to turn to and hide behind? No one. We were lucky there were 3 of us. If she can't depend on you to be strong and selfless who will she ever be able to depend on? When her teen years roll around in a few short years, and her hormones control her every thought, she'll need to have some foundation and she won't if you're depressed.
Of course she'll have us but you and I both know there is nothing like a parent's love in the moments where you're torn. I know you want so many things for yourself, that's normal. But right now you need to focus on her and what's to come in her life.
So I beg of you, stop blaming yourself for what was never your fault and live guilt-free for the sake of you and your magnificent daughter.
I love you with all my heart!
xoxo,
Krishna D.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
The Ex-Factor 1.10.10
Dear XXXX,
I just want to let you know that I don't hate you. You did a horrible thing and I'm still trying to figure out why, but I don't hate you.
We knew each other for four years. Forget the whole 'relationship' aspect of what we became, you were my closest confident. You counseled me through some of the most difficult periods in my life. Though we were long distance, you were there more than people who made up my immediate circle. You seemed to work very hard to get me to trust you and then I do, only for you to tell me you're married with kids.
Four years. I'll never understand why you let this thing go on for that long. When the truth came out, we both said hurtful things. I meant what I said. You are a shitty person. Yes of course, some of my anger came from my own ego of having allowed someone to shit on me from a great height, once again, but there's certainly no denying that you are a shitty person. The things you said on the other hand, were lies. To say you never cared about me and the whole thing meant nothing is completely untrue and you know it. You put an awful lot of time, effort and money into someone you never cared about. It's about actions, remember and your actions showed you being a presence in my life virtually every day for those four years. You cared. Your immaturity showed when you only told the truth about your situation after I said I was over 'us'.
I'm not wearing that like a badge of honour. It certainly doesn't warm my heart to know that I thought someone else's husband was my boyfriend and genuinely cared about me. But however much you try to deny it, you did care.
I was mad for a couple of months, but I released it. The anger won't help me progress. I just have to believe that not every man is like you. Please God don't let every man be like you! I just feel sorry for you and your family for what you're doing to them. I feel guilty that all that time you'd spend on the phone with me at night, you should have been with your sons, helping them with their homework or cuddling with your wife. I hope that you're doing everything in your power to make it up to them now. It's infuriating that all the things I want (a marriage, kids), you have and are quite happily pissing all over. If I had those things, I would cherish them.
Here's the thing, I'm still heartbroken. Because I loved what I had with you and I'm sad it was all a lie. But mostly I'm heartbroken that any human can go out of their way to hurt someone like that. I'll be okay. But how do I ever trust someone again? How do I allow someone into my life and not think they'll do the same thing? Eventually I'll figure it out and I'm sure I'll spend my life with someone worthy. You on the other hand, will most likely continue to lie your way through yours and for that, I can do nothing but pity you. What a sad, sad existence you have.
I do genuinely hope that one day you man up and do what you're supposed to do.
Sincerely,
Muireann
I just want to let you know that I don't hate you. You did a horrible thing and I'm still trying to figure out why, but I don't hate you.
We knew each other for four years. Forget the whole 'relationship' aspect of what we became, you were my closest confident. You counseled me through some of the most difficult periods in my life. Though we were long distance, you were there more than people who made up my immediate circle. You seemed to work very hard to get me to trust you and then I do, only for you to tell me you're married with kids.
Four years. I'll never understand why you let this thing go on for that long. When the truth came out, we both said hurtful things. I meant what I said. You are a shitty person. Yes of course, some of my anger came from my own ego of having allowed someone to shit on me from a great height, once again, but there's certainly no denying that you are a shitty person. The things you said on the other hand, were lies. To say you never cared about me and the whole thing meant nothing is completely untrue and you know it. You put an awful lot of time, effort and money into someone you never cared about. It's about actions, remember and your actions showed you being a presence in my life virtually every day for those four years. You cared. Your immaturity showed when you only told the truth about your situation after I said I was over 'us'.
I'm not wearing that like a badge of honour. It certainly doesn't warm my heart to know that I thought someone else's husband was my boyfriend and genuinely cared about me. But however much you try to deny it, you did care.
I was mad for a couple of months, but I released it. The anger won't help me progress. I just have to believe that not every man is like you. Please God don't let every man be like you! I just feel sorry for you and your family for what you're doing to them. I feel guilty that all that time you'd spend on the phone with me at night, you should have been with your sons, helping them with their homework or cuddling with your wife. I hope that you're doing everything in your power to make it up to them now. It's infuriating that all the things I want (a marriage, kids), you have and are quite happily pissing all over. If I had those things, I would cherish them.
Here's the thing, I'm still heartbroken. Because I loved what I had with you and I'm sad it was all a lie. But mostly I'm heartbroken that any human can go out of their way to hurt someone like that. I'll be okay. But how do I ever trust someone again? How do I allow someone into my life and not think they'll do the same thing? Eventually I'll figure it out and I'm sure I'll spend my life with someone worthy. You on the other hand, will most likely continue to lie your way through yours and for that, I can do nothing but pity you. What a sad, sad existence you have.
I do genuinely hope that one day you man up and do what you're supposed to do.
Sincerely,
Muireann
Monday, April 12, 2010
To My Brother From Another Mother, E:
Peace!
It took me several days to figure out what I was going to write. I always have much to say. I didn't want to write a dissertation either. I wanted to get to the point but there always has to be background. What we go through is much more complicated that one assumes even though the solutions to our problems are simple.
First, I want to say this that I write this out of love. If I didn't love you, I would not bother to write this letter. We go back, brother. Back to a time when we were bachelors still trying to figure things out. During that interval in our lives, we became brothers because of where we were from and what we loved: hip hop culture. When we went our separate ways, I hoped that we would stay in contact but somehow in the age of instant messaging, we lost contact.
It came as a surprise that almost 10 years later, we found ourselves in Ohio only 55 miles apart. I was happy to speak to you and we immediately linked up. It was obvious that our reintroduction came at a time when you needed it the most. You were going through so much. My heart broke to find you in the manner that I did. I knew that if I did nothing, you would die.
Even back in the day, I saw your fall into Christian fundamentalism. Although I was critical in my skeptic ways, you never responded. I appreciate that and yet I hated the fact that you did not respond. I know that at times I can be abrasive when it comes to matters of religion and spirituality. I wanted to challenge you to deconstruct what you were being told. I wanted you to see the delusion you were being sold. I have many peers who somehow find God in their 30's only to become apathetic zombies and shells of their former selves. When we first met, I thought you were a warrior who would never fall for the okey doke.
Fast forward almost ten years later and you have become the Christian Taliban in the Midwest. You were challenging pastors on the minutiae in the Bible without a pot to piss in. I was sorely disgusted. You were always a hard worker and the best sales person I ever met. You could sell water to a whale as easy as the average person gets up from a chair. You were living in a one bedroom shack and never went outside unless it was to go to church. You gained so much weight you were wearing sweat suits in the summer. I was saddened at your mental and physical condition.
As you recanted your the events in your life in the past ten years, I could not help but see that I had a hand in that in some way. I was not the friend you needed me to be. I should have shook you back then and pointed out how you were following charlatans and pulpit pimps who were selling you nonsense. In your fierce loyalty, you followed these demons until they used you and left you in the gutter spent and hollow. I should have been there to tell these half men and degenerates off.
It bothers me that you cling to white folks who have no love for people of color. You have told me stories of their contempt for Blacks and Latinos and how in your blind faith you continue to pray for them. It's amazing how I can tell you when and how they would betray you and it happens but you continue to treat these people as if they were your own flesh and blood.
I know you, brother. I have known you before I even created my family. Those people you congregate with don't know you. They do not have your best interests in mind. I do. I urge you to seek help. You should seek counseling. You should reach out to your family who loves you. I dread the day that I head over to your place and find you dead in the hell they created for you. I dread the day I have to drive out in the wee hours of the night, armed like some street thug, to defend you against the white man you claims you raped his daughter.
They say that you can only help those that help themselves. I will wait patiently until you see the proverbial light. I will have you know that when that time comes, I will grab my pistols and knives and slay those demons who come in the night for you and never look back. When you call us in the middle of the night to come and get you, our home will be open to you as a sanctuary. I love you like the brother I never had. You know how deep that goes.
Your brother in the struggle,
Dan Tres Omi
It took me several days to figure out what I was going to write. I always have much to say. I didn't want to write a dissertation either. I wanted to get to the point but there always has to be background. What we go through is much more complicated that one assumes even though the solutions to our problems are simple.
First, I want to say this that I write this out of love. If I didn't love you, I would not bother to write this letter. We go back, brother. Back to a time when we were bachelors still trying to figure things out. During that interval in our lives, we became brothers because of where we were from and what we loved: hip hop culture. When we went our separate ways, I hoped that we would stay in contact but somehow in the age of instant messaging, we lost contact.
It came as a surprise that almost 10 years later, we found ourselves in Ohio only 55 miles apart. I was happy to speak to you and we immediately linked up. It was obvious that our reintroduction came at a time when you needed it the most. You were going through so much. My heart broke to find you in the manner that I did. I knew that if I did nothing, you would die.
Even back in the day, I saw your fall into Christian fundamentalism. Although I was critical in my skeptic ways, you never responded. I appreciate that and yet I hated the fact that you did not respond. I know that at times I can be abrasive when it comes to matters of religion and spirituality. I wanted to challenge you to deconstruct what you were being told. I wanted you to see the delusion you were being sold. I have many peers who somehow find God in their 30's only to become apathetic zombies and shells of their former selves. When we first met, I thought you were a warrior who would never fall for the okey doke.
Fast forward almost ten years later and you have become the Christian Taliban in the Midwest. You were challenging pastors on the minutiae in the Bible without a pot to piss in. I was sorely disgusted. You were always a hard worker and the best sales person I ever met. You could sell water to a whale as easy as the average person gets up from a chair. You were living in a one bedroom shack and never went outside unless it was to go to church. You gained so much weight you were wearing sweat suits in the summer. I was saddened at your mental and physical condition.
As you recanted your the events in your life in the past ten years, I could not help but see that I had a hand in that in some way. I was not the friend you needed me to be. I should have shook you back then and pointed out how you were following charlatans and pulpit pimps who were selling you nonsense. In your fierce loyalty, you followed these demons until they used you and left you in the gutter spent and hollow. I should have been there to tell these half men and degenerates off.
It bothers me that you cling to white folks who have no love for people of color. You have told me stories of their contempt for Blacks and Latinos and how in your blind faith you continue to pray for them. It's amazing how I can tell you when and how they would betray you and it happens but you continue to treat these people as if they were your own flesh and blood.
I know you, brother. I have known you before I even created my family. Those people you congregate with don't know you. They do not have your best interests in mind. I do. I urge you to seek help. You should seek counseling. You should reach out to your family who loves you. I dread the day that I head over to your place and find you dead in the hell they created for you. I dread the day I have to drive out in the wee hours of the night, armed like some street thug, to defend you against the white man you claims you raped his daughter.
They say that you can only help those that help themselves. I will wait patiently until you see the proverbial light. I will have you know that when that time comes, I will grab my pistols and knives and slay those demons who come in the night for you and never look back. When you call us in the middle of the night to come and get you, our home will be open to you as a sanctuary. I love you like the brother I never had. You know how deep that goes.
Your brother in the struggle,
Dan Tres Omi
Monday, April 5, 2010
The Ex-Factor 6.21.07
Welcome to my new site; How better to kick off this launch than with the letter I wrote that started it all, way back when I was still infatuated with a certain ex. Ladies and gentleman, for your reading pleasure...
Dear D,
I'm not really even sure why I'm writing this. Maybe because I dwell on shit too much, unable to forgive or forget or let things go, even when I know that what went down between us was for the best, and I'm not looking to be in a long-term relationship with you (or anyone) anymore.
But I liked being the center of your world, the most important person in your life. Okay, maybe that's a bit much, a tad dramatic, but you know what I mean. You'd drop whatever and turn your whole schedule upside down to accommodate mine. Anything I wanted, needed- there you were with it. I got a little spoiled. I warned you not to do that, not to let me get comfortable, not to be so damn nice to me.
Did I ever even thank you? I can be so selfish sometimes. I never even said "I Love You" until after it was over and we were just friends. Because it's easy for me to say "I Love You" to a friend; that's old hat, second nature. But to say it to someone I'm dating? Why would I do that? Why would I let the guy I'm dating know how much he means to me? I'd never give anybody that much ammunition against me...
So our split was right. Justified. I was closed off. You were not ready. We were a hot ghetto mess together.
But sometimes when we talk, hang out, whatever, I can still see what drew me to you. Your piercing eyes...like they're looking right into me. Your energy, so bright and full of life; never a dull moment with you around. The way you still look out for me, genuine goodness and thoughtfulness...what's that about? Why can't you just be a dick so I can hate you?
But alas, you're such a dear. And I'm glad you're still in my life. My id would prefer it if you still had me on that pedestal, and my ego tries hard to re-create that experience for me everyday, but my superego understands that things worked out for the best for everybody involved.
Still, know that in a moment of weakness or drunken abandon (or sobriety...it really doesn't matter; any moment would do), my id would not kick you out of bed. Because on top of everything else, it was that good.
------------
Dear D,
I'm not really even sure why I'm writing this. Maybe because I dwell on shit too much, unable to forgive or forget or let things go, even when I know that what went down between us was for the best, and I'm not looking to be in a long-term relationship with you (or anyone) anymore.
But I liked being the center of your world, the most important person in your life. Okay, maybe that's a bit much, a tad dramatic, but you know what I mean. You'd drop whatever and turn your whole schedule upside down to accommodate mine. Anything I wanted, needed- there you were with it. I got a little spoiled. I warned you not to do that, not to let me get comfortable, not to be so damn nice to me.
Did I ever even thank you? I can be so selfish sometimes. I never even said "I Love You" until after it was over and we were just friends. Because it's easy for me to say "I Love You" to a friend; that's old hat, second nature. But to say it to someone I'm dating? Why would I do that? Why would I let the guy I'm dating know how much he means to me? I'd never give anybody that much ammunition against me...
So our split was right. Justified. I was closed off. You were not ready. We were a hot ghetto mess together.
But sometimes when we talk, hang out, whatever, I can still see what drew me to you. Your piercing eyes...like they're looking right into me. Your energy, so bright and full of life; never a dull moment with you around. The way you still look out for me, genuine goodness and thoughtfulness...what's that about? Why can't you just be a dick so I can hate you?
But alas, you're such a dear. And I'm glad you're still in my life. My id would prefer it if you still had me on that pedestal, and my ego tries hard to re-create that experience for me everyday, but my superego understands that things worked out for the best for everybody involved.
Still, know that in a moment of weakness or drunken abandon (or sobriety...it really doesn't matter; any moment would do), my id would not kick you out of bed. Because on top of everything else, it was that good.
About Me
- The Jaded NYer
- A writer for pay and play; come with me if you want to get crunk!