I’m Tired, But I’ll Do It Myself.

Like the most of y’all, I have Donald Trump blocked on everything. Lately, I’d rather walk away from the screen than to even look at the new nonsense that administration spews for the hour. Change the channel so I don’t have to hear anymore bullshit. I haven’t even bothered to pay attention to the newest stories of discrimination, injustice, police brutality, etc. I’ll admit, I do not know who the newest hashtag is. I haven’t been keeping up with current events, and I’ve been purposefully doing so. Purposefully muting words, clicking “Hide Post” or “I don’t like this tweet” or “Show less of this” for anything that even slightly fits the categories I just mentioned.

I’ve been telling myself that if I see less of it, maybe..

 

just… maybe…

 

it’ll go away. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of sight because I can no longer physically withstand being sick to my stomach while I face the harsh everyday reality that my people are being treated like we’re worth less than a decent human life. My stomach, once immensely strong, now turns at the most miniscule sign of discomfort. Out of mind because my heart truly does hurt every time my ears catch the talk, my eyes scan the read, and it’s another precious life stolen in hate. So, I mute. I block. I skip over it. I run away, far away, from it all.

 

And I’m ashamed of it.

 

My dream is to change the world.

One word at a time.

One act of love at a time.

One heart at a time.

One soul at a time.

One community at a time.

 

There are days when I truly believe that I can do this, to be a part of the change that this world needs to see. To spread knowledge about the issues that so many of us face, with one issue being so vastly different from the next, but come from the same flame nonetheless. To inspire change throughout, starting small and watching it snowball into something great. Because why else am I here in school, busting my ass to find my way into this maliciously fixed system, help break it down and rebuild it?

 

But, damn I’ve been feeling so discouraged lately.

 

I know I’m not the only one that sits and thinks so deeply and intently about the atrocities that we as minorities face, so much that I find myself crying.

Crying, because there is no way in hell that there are so many people in this world that have this much hate in their heart, to take away so much from those that need it most.

Crying, because no way in hell is there a war on women. On Our bodies, our worth, our lives.

Crying, because there is no way in hell that Black women are still getting done SO dirty. By other Black women, White women, White men, non-Black people of color, and SO VERY dirty by Black men.

Crying, because our Black men and our Black babies and our Black people are still being murdered, out of hate.

 

I am.. so tired.

 

But should I feel as bad as I do for wanting to block it out for a little bit? Although we Black woms are expected to cap for everybody, we deserve a break. I don’t want to make it sound like I’m trying to make an excuse for my actions, because I do believe that there truly isn’t an excuse. But still.

 

Are we even allowed to have a breaking point to reach?

 

I think the sad reality is that we just might not be allowed to rest our aching hearts, or to heal our broken spirits. We must continue to be that foundation that everyone else in the world needs, because (I sincerely believe that) we are the only ones strong enough to be. We are the source of moral, physical, emotional, and mental support.

 

But I do believe that we can lean on each other, count on each other to have our own backs. It’s how we are. Like when one of us gets weak, we step up for our sister, and it’s a beautiful thing. We’re supposed to just keep on pushing, keep on protecting, keep on loving, because we can.

 

And, more importantly:

 

Because if a Black woman ain’t gone do it, who will?

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