Nobody owes me anything. Not an explanation, a dollar, an apology, not even effort. Nobody owes me comfort or compassion. It was when my dad voiced his truth, that he didn’t owe me shit, that I had finally come to this realization. As much as it broke my heart to hear this, at 21 years old I find truth in his words. Had it been the words of someone other than whom I called my father, it might not be cut so deep. And for my inner child, this is a topic on which I'm going to speak. Reason being is because I owe it to myself, and that’s enough for me.
I owe it to myself to become everything I’m destined to be, to experience the trials and errors that make me greater. Nothing in this life is promised to me, which is why I promised myself that I would get it by any means necessary. For all those times when I needed help from a parent and got an excuse, or help from a friend and got led astray, it’s always been me for me at the end of the day. To do the heavy lifting, to fight for what it is that I know I can attain. There are minimal efforts to fight with me from those who claim to love me. I'm not going to sit around and wait for someone to care, I’m going to stand up for myself, and care anyways. I’m going to take care of the home that is my body, pay the water bill that is my emotions, and keep the air on that is my thoughts and intellect. I’m going to make sure there is gas on the stove that is the fire in my word, my passion, my presence. I’m going to solidify my security within myself that is the stepping stone I stand on in my cobblestone home.
No welcome mat here and still I thank you for guiding me to the shelter that is the embrace of my own two arms. The lack of yours showed me how real those memories are, how you helped decorate my bedroom ceiling with glow-in-the-dark stars. There’s no longer a room here for keeping the type of peace that creates a war in the basement that is my root chakra, or clutter in the attic that is my crown. Springtime is for cleaning this home, sweeping from back to front, mixing Florida water with my mop water, knocking on walls to make sure I AM the only one home because I AM. Do Not Disturb on my cell phone because before I’m led astray, I’d rather just be left alone.
Any spirit that doesn’t resonate can simply kick rocks and not my precious gemstones. The ones that call to me, to feed my energy with reciprocity. Nazar in my window for onlookers whose curiosity keeps them dormant to my nonexistent doormat with animosity. R-E-S-P-E-C-T, respect all of my boundaries, even the ones that make you a 40-hour walk from me. To the good of all and the harm of none, my deadbeat daddy taught me that there’s no place like home. This is probably why he was never there because he didn’t learn what it was like to share. To share space, to share love, to share compassion. For him not owing to me a damn thing, it sure taught me how my light was damn blinding. And while I sat on the phone and did all that damn crying, I can’t find it in my heart to say I don’t care without goddamn lying. I owe it to me, for me. If there’s anything my daddy has taught me, it’s that nobody owes you shit, so keep on got damn shining.
@tyshaisacredcircle | @indiyatyshai