Not Beyond Repair
You’d be amazed at what situations prayers can change. Photo courtesy of Nappy.
When I asked God for a voice, I was just coming out of a relationship with someone who swore he loved me, yet other words from the same mouth tore at my core and slashed my self-esteem. In the midst of my healing, my desire was to be able to tell my story or anyone’s story with truth, vulnerability, and integrity. I vowed transparency and said that I would share nothing but uncut pieces of my soul. I am not ashamed of the things that I have endured because the sum of my experiences has made me the person that I am today. I realize that some of my topics will make some people uncomfortable because they may feel that I am airing too much dirty laundry, or maybe by being so open I am not being politically correct. Others may feel a deep kinship with the topic; however, they shy away because my words may trigger a painful memory or aggravate an old wound because they have not received their healing.
Most of what I write has either come from personal experience or from what I have closely observed in the lives of my friends and loved ones. There are times when we are hesitant about sharing the more painful side of our reality because we are afraid of how others will perceive us. However, I have learned not to be anxious over what others think of me and not to be judgmental and critical of the experiences of others.
“Unless you can walk a mile in a person’s shoes then you can never know the true magnitude of that person’s blues.”
Blues is something that I am very familiar with just as so many other women, especially the Black women. I am not discounting the experiences of other women; however, I am only speaking from what I know and from where I stand. Black women have been viewed so negatively and treated so disparagingly that it has become hard for us to trust anyone. We have been pitted against our brothers and against each other in such a way that it has left a gap in our relationships so wide and so deep that it is going to take more than hard work to build a bridge sturdy enough to hold us all up—together.
We will not be able to do this alone, we must look to the Healing Master for patience, understanding, acceptance, and healing for us to get to the point of wholeness. This healing comes from open fellowship with the Lord, from laying your burdens at the altar and standing naked and unashamedly before Him, from accepting your humanness in the sense that no one is perfect and everyone makes mistakes, from learning how to adore yourself and forgive yourself for everything. I know from experience that what He sets free is free indeed and freedom from the past is indeed what we need.
This kind of freedom is the only thing that will help us to live and build better lives for ourselves and for those other sisters and brothers who may still be caught up in the same types of situations. The depth of a Black woman’s love never ceases to amaze me—especially when it comes to our men. We love them unfailingly despite the many negative outside forces pulling and picking at the core of that love. This negative energy has created so much distrust within them that our brothers sometimes dishonor our love and doubt our motives. On many occasions, we have been placed in the erroneous position of defending our names, our honor, and our love. I cannot count the number of times I have sat in conversations with other Black women speaking of our love for our men with honesty and openness as we reflect on its magnitude and its beauty. We cannot help but laugh and sometimes cry in memory of the joys and the pains, the ups and the downs, and the inspirations and the disappointments that go along with loving this magnificent man.
Unlike popular belief, my girlfriends and I do not sit around bashing our men. We do not believe that all men are dogs, nor do we believe that the mold for a good Black man was broken a long time ago. We speak from our experiences, and we have seen all sides of love—the good, the bad, and the not-so-pretty. We have experienced great love and deep hurt by the men that we have allowed in our lives, but through it all we know and accept it as simply a part of the human experience. Yes, at times it is hard to live with them, but we surely do not want to live without them. Personally, I find that there is something so awe-inspiring and profound about a Black man that I remain loyal and intrigued regardless of what I have gone through in the past. I refuse to hold against all men what was done to me by one man.
We love our Black men. Photo courtesy of Jessica Felicio
I must go on record here and say that the enemy of the Black man is not the Black woman. That is just a lie perpetuated by society and the real enemy in their attempt to keep us apart. It is one designed to keep our men on the offense, our women on the defense, and our family unit hopeless and broken. It is our job now to seek reconciliation and restoration so that this cycle will end with this generation. We must move away from hurt, anger, and disappointments and we must move toward healing, acceptance, and forgiveness. I believe that the first step is to return to our First Love while acknowledging our roles in creating some of the holes that are embedded within each other’s souls. We must be open to accepting the Truth, letting go of the lies, and letting God heal our lives.
The road to healing, self-discovery, and recovery is a long winding pathway that has many stumbling blocks and much debris scattered throughout. There will be times when it will feel like the journey is endless and in vain; however, the trek will become easier if you stay the course. After a while you will stop doubting that you are going the right way, you will stop looking back and you will start dreaming about what lies ahead. You will begin to see the beauty that is amid the ugliness that continuously tries to block you or scare you away. When I traveled that road, it was only through His grace and mercy that I made it through; therefore, my choice today is to stand as a witness and testify before anyone who will listen. I will shout from the highest mountain top and let the world know that I have been broken and I have been damaged, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that none of it was beyond repair.
This article is simply a tribute of love to the sisters and brothers who have overcome seemingly insurmountable odds. It is especially to those sisters who keep getting up even when life keeps knocking them down. It is for those who feel like they have no way out; therefore, they stay in situations that will eventually take them out if they do not reach out for help. I want them to know that they are not alone in dealing with the troubles of this world, and that they are not the only ones who have been so low that they have had to look up just to see the ground. I read that the race is not given to the swift nor the strong but to those who endure to the end. We must always remember and acknowledge that we are made of sterner stuff, we have overcome much, and we will continue to endure.
As a people, we have been blessed with an endurance that far surpasses anything that I have ever seen, heard, or researched. So yes, there have been and there still will be times when we may be badly beaten, terribly broken, and severely damaged; but we will not be counted out because the damage is never ever beyond repair. We, like the phoenix, will rise beautifully and mightily from the strains of this world. Together we will rise with our new wings spread wide and with strength and determination in our eyes we will soar to even higher heights than ever before.
