I had written this some time ago and forgot to upload it here. Now I have.
And so, I had planned to get a tattoo when I got here. I thought to myself the one way I can always remember this transition. A physical representation on me of what this is. I have not got round to that.
I was going to have a piercing on my ear. Mainly because I always thought it looks good. And also because I think my father had once said he thinks they are nice. I have not done that either.
I was going to lock my hair. A fantasy from my youth. A vengeful rebellion to every thing that is and has been a no to my life. Well, my hair is still growing. It is still not twisted neither has it been locked. Maybe that will happen some time soon. Who knows.....
I was not sure how my life here would turn out. I still am not sure. Working as a volunteer with the DC Black Pride has opened up my eyes to the woes that black people continue to deal with here. At the same time, it did open me up to the two things that I am and which I had not fully celebrated. My blackness and being gay. It was truly a celebration. It was also an interaction with a larger family of other celebrants. A testimony of love of us and who we are who all represent. I stayed and thanked God for me, for all the people that I know and for all the people that know themselves and have allowed themselves the freedom of being. My heart ached for everyone else who cannot do the same.
Two months later, the list of things I wanted to do is still undone. It is beginning to grow longer. There are things that have been ticked off on that list and there are some others that have not. The latter are longer. I feel like those are the things that ground me. Those remind me of the opportunity that lurks somewhere waiting for me. Two months later, I am still finding my ground. Two months later, am missing home. Two months later, I know that love can change things. Two months later I am glad that am here. Two months later my heart is at peace. still.
I am still here. I have never left. Still.
I was going to have a piercing on my ear. Mainly because I always thought it looks good. And also because I think my father had once said he thinks they are nice. I have not done that either.
I was going to lock my hair. A fantasy from my youth. A vengeful rebellion to every thing that is and has been a no to my life. Well, my hair is still growing. It is still not twisted neither has it been locked. Maybe that will happen some time soon. Who knows.....
I was not sure how my life here would turn out. I still am not sure. Working as a volunteer with the DC Black Pride has opened up my eyes to the woes that black people continue to deal with here. At the same time, it did open me up to the two things that I am and which I had not fully celebrated. My blackness and being gay. It was truly a celebration. It was also an interaction with a larger family of other celebrants. A testimony of love of us and who we are who all represent. I stayed and thanked God for me, for all the people that I know and for all the people that know themselves and have allowed themselves the freedom of being. My heart ached for everyone else who cannot do the same.
Two months later, the list of things I wanted to do is still undone. It is beginning to grow longer. There are things that have been ticked off on that list and there are some others that have not. The latter are longer. I feel like those are the things that ground me. Those remind me of the opportunity that lurks somewhere waiting for me. Two months later, I am still finding my ground. Two months later, am missing home. Two months later, I know that love can change things. Two months later I am glad that am here. Two months later my heart is at peace. still.
I am still here. I have never left. Still.
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