Its no longer a debate on whether we came from a LONG line of emotionally unavailable women or not. Its no longer a debate of whether this system made her that way by stripping her of our father’s, her father literally &/or figuratively. But now that we’re here, the offspring generation Y, fully awakened & aware of said conditions looking around at this world as newborns.. like how did this happen? When the evidence lies within what of our remains bloodline..

I remember Thanksgiving 2009.. My great grandmother had passed on MLK day bacin January 19. Couple months prior trying to be a team player going the extra mile for a certain pizza chain, ended up being T- boned by some idiot totalling my first ride.. a 99 Toyota Tacoma.. tore ligaments in my neck & for the first time in my life, I was terrified to drive.. I even started smoking cigarettes (one of two things besides adrenal gland fatigue that took my Mama Dea out.. along with her husband a few weeks prior to thanksgiving back in ’96)  just to drive again once I finally ran out of savings.. Fast forward to thanksgiving.. car-less, body broken, ego shattered, heart? (don’t mention it) And my aunt is on her way to pick me up to take me to be bombarded with memories of the staple of my life that no longer exists. the one person who never turned her back on me.. or it looked at me with disgust for being “broken”.. she was gone. Fast forward I decline the ride and to my surprise, no-one sent me a plate. They fed the “homeless” in Madison instead.. As punishment for not showing up, I didn’t “deserve” a plate. Which reminded me of that one Christmas mom didn’t but me anything because lets be honest.  i was a problem child.. year after year presents & plates were piled high for me.. I can’t remember the crap i was bought or the foods on those plates but I remember the disappointment.. the emptiness.. the rejection of not being understood. I learned just how cold & unsympathetic the black woman could truly be..

My new perspective is that they were grieving too.. And my not being there was a way to lash out for all the grief a sexually abused child brings upon a family. My not being there was a bitter sweet feeling because 1) I wasn’t a physical reminder of what the town knows happened 2) I gave in to depression. I was becoming a loser & a failure because I wasn’t as “strong” as them. I couldn’t just “put on” for a few hours and pretend to be overjoyed to see them.. make them feel better and it’s better they don’t have to see me. 3) more food for them

So I said all that to say this.. what my family doesn’t know is that I haven’t had an appetite on thanksgiving since ’95.. I have to force myself to eat every year during this time. I can’t smoke to provoke an appetite due to current profession so all that’s left to do is feel. And if I must say so myself, I feel more alive NOW than ever before. However I do understand why people feel anger, anxiety, depression during these times. It feels as if We’re stuck in bereavement mode, my generation. All this knowledge we have we just can’t seem to evolve past the pain. Pain, self victimization, self pity,  self sabotage, self neglect and all around trauma have become our normal. Granted some of us can & are doing the werk to evolve but there comes a time where one must separate others pain, their PAST trauma, their PAST hurts and embrace where they are right now. In the present.. Thanksgiving 2016, the outside world is “grieving” for native American struggles, all summer it was “black” lives, and today is a gumbo of the “world’s” pain and tragedy. And im over here like, nah. I still dont have an appetite but i DO have joy in my heart. I can actually FEEL love and compassion for others without feeling drained of life force. In ’09 my heart was filled with despair. 2013, I was praying for Trayvon, scared for my teenage male relatives.. 2015, I observed the final thanksgiving I was going to spend being “concious” 100% in my head about the knowledge & superior to my blood relatives.. true I would fake happy til this year but I made it through!!! I finally beat depression. I finally have my innocence.. my femininity.. my sensuality back and for that, I Am thankful. The world will burn I mean turn no matter what hashtag is popping this week. I Am thankful for moments of the present. And one day, this life or the next, so will you..

Thanks for reading.