For many years we were taught to be seen and not heard. For years we couldn't ask questions. For many years I felt abandoned and alone. For years, I couldn't understand why many black families were dysfunctional and broken. For many years we held on to family secretes and lies... That era is over, no more secrets and no more lies.
It's time to talk about it and heal.
After starting with my mother, I learned my grandparents, mother and father were sexually abused, as was I. Sexual abuse has been apart of Black America's History since the genocide of Native Americans. Sexual abuse is used for different reasons such as: power, control and repeat learned behavior. But ever since then it has created disruption, defiance, hatred and violence. I am the product of my black history both good and bad, yet I was labeled by my family as a menace to society.
So as I free my demons with these words, I think to myself.
Did they forget that sexual, mental, and emotional abuse has been passed down from generation to generation? Did they allow a comfortable space for me to come to them without judgement? As a victim of abuse, can I address my feelings to my family even if they're not ready to talk about it? When is the right time to discuss it? Is there a right time to start that process? Am I judging them too quickly? How can I break this generational learned behavior?
"But once you know who are, you don't have to worry anyone" - Nikki Giovanni
Well it's time to address it, and I feel I have a duty to speak my truth so that my children will know the true meaning of love, forgiveness, family, honor, respect, and courage. I want to live each day working towards breaking our family generational curse that was passed down to me. I want to be the narrator of my story and not my family gossip. So I'll start with this...
You insulted my intelligence by ignoring my presence with your ignorance. You bullied my soul with your religious quotes that was contradicting. You used your education and status to make conscience threats. You used historical metaphors to oppress my growth. You emotionally and mentally raped my mind over and over again with the denial of our family's abusive history. You judged my every decision and choices. You disliked me because your threatened by your insecurities. You lied about love, family, loyalty, respect, and honor. You brainwashed my innocence into believing that your behavior was acceptable.
[I prayed for forgiveness with the understanding of compassion.] I even used my pillow to distort my screams and to soak my tears. I even replaced negativity with mediation, social gatherings and musical therapy. But I needed this opportunity to say these words.
To the Bard, Johnson, Hill, Harris, Simms and generations before me:
Though you've labeled me out of ignorance, I thought you should know how disappointed I am for your neglect of love, empathy, and your lack of accountability. However, I forgive you... wholeheartedly.
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