Empathy is underrated- the series (3)

It is a long read, it is however worth your time.
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I have never really liked Saturdays. I was born on Saturday, the rains hadn't stopped for even the slightest minute. Mama had to give birth at home, the roads were too flooded..
Mama had died on a Saturday too. Dad had beat her into a plump for going to Women's church meeting, her marriage had fallen apart, she was being pressured for not having another child and she was still been beaten on most days. These meetings were the only things that made happy.
She had been really late that day and he had beaten her and left her to care for herself. He expected that when he got back dinner would be ready and she would cleaned up for the activities of the other room.
If only he knew he would meet her corpse.
I had come downstairs after he left to meet her bleeding from her head. In that moment, where my ever strong mother wasn't so strong all she wanted was to let my dad know that she was sorry and she wanted me to know that she loved me. Even in death she wasn't thinking of herself.
I lost my mum at 6, holding her in my arms on a Saturday evening.

I went on to live with my aunt and miraculously I didn't believe  #All Men Are the Same. My uncle was very kind and he adored his wife so I knew my dad just came from the specie of men who just couldn't act right. You'd think I survived my childhood, but I didn't. I didn't find out until much later.

I learned how to be really strong and composed from a young age. Somehow everyone brought things as an option of comfort. I couldn't cry until I was alone and somehow they made sure I wasn't alone. It was either we were going to grab a bite, walk the mall or grab ice cream to perhaps freeze my heart. It worked.

I became many things but not one to show emotions. I think I was upset at how even death my mum had still considered my dad. How?!

My first boyfriend had just ended things with me and it wasn't because of the constant complains of how I was too strong, how I couldn't let my hair down to really feel and play down a little bit so he could take care of me. It wasn't because of any of those things.  It was because he was a cheat.

The second, third and fourth boyfriends were all good guys but they all said the same thing. I wasn't expressing enough, they couldn't work with that. I was rigid and it just wasn't working.
I loved these guys I just couldn't get it out the way they wanted.

Loosing my fourth boyfriend was the one that hurt me the most and just before he left, he said "3it's like the door of your heart that should be open has been replaced by a rock and there's no getting through to a rock".
I was heartbroken beyond words and I grieved. I laid in bed all day and cried hard and long. I lost weight, strength and will.
I was mocked by many who knew. They said "the heart is like a rubber band, once it is stretched it should go back to its original size".
They said "no man is worth dying over, you're just too weak".
They don't know the hurt is way beyond one man. How much more till my heart can't take it anymore.
Funny how everyone becomes a teacher when another person is involved. But how do you see a person whose shoes are marked by dry concrete and because we all now stand on a tiled floor you mock them for having concrete forgetting we all didn't walk through the same paths to get to where we currently stand.

Healing is underrated.
Empathy is underrated.

Comments

  1. Like I read somewhere, there’s always a reason why people are the way they are, if we could all be more understanding.
    But suicide isn’t the way. I wished she sought help, I wish she told someone about all she had gone through and her present frustrations.
    Beautiful writing as usual Toyo baby...Welldone

    ReplyDelete
  2. It’s hard to understand where people are coming from until they are willing to share and some don’t even want to share because the door is sealed. Communication is everything, good composition.

    ReplyDelete

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