To me, being supportive always meant showing up and showing out for those that I care about, those that I love.
To me, receiving support always felt like tolerating how little someone who is supposed to care is actually doing to contribute a cause, while only truly offering judgement.
Basically, I don’t have support. I have an audience.
The season that launched 2016 showed me wassup but 2020 taught me what’s real.
My family is disappointing. They always have been. They are the epitome of how I see the African American diaspora in totality. Everyone has an idea of what oppression looks like, everyone has a judgment of how you chose/choose to face it. But no one has contributed; time, energy, or resources to your deliverance in actuality. In fact, often times the most eager judgements are assessed when there is an instance in which the variables are not clear. Even more so, instances where they lack the wherewithal or even experience to comprehend the parameters of the situation.
So like, ” I don’t get this but i’m going to judge it harshly and negatively because I am angry that I did not have the opportunity to even fathom what making such a decision looks like.” type time.
Not everyone applauds the opportunities you create for yourself because they wish they had the ability to do the same. Sometimes, it’s time that passed them by. Sometimes, the resources were never available, Sometimes…..
I’ve learned that I so eagerly offer support because I have never truly felt supported. When you know what it’s like to always be able to and/or have to stand own your own two, it’s easy to clap when you see someone taking steps.
But, I digress.
This entry is all about me clapping for me.
The amount of exponential growth I had to go to and through to even get here is incredible.
An initiation, if you will. Not everyone is privy to the vision so I had to learn how to have much more discernment with the gift.
I walk in the light in which the prophets have taught us.
And thus, I forgive them, for they know not what they do.