I felt something, something I did not want to face nor become obsessed with in my head. There was some dialogue with God, relief and more breathing.
After leaving you ladies, Majella and Sherrie, at Franklin Ave in Brooklyn. I continued my train journey home to East New York. I felt something, something I did not want to face nor become obsessed with in my head. There was some dialogue with God, relief and more breathing. I got home, spoke to the husband about the podcast but leaving out details that I shared my abortion story. Abortion, a word that is harsh. A word that leaves many women ashamed and/or in hiding. I am not the first woman of the world to terminate a pregnancy, however, speaking on it at a different frequency brought me into a space that I have not wanted to return to. I did this "thing" as I shared. I started consciously going numb as I spoke.
It is the wee hours of the morning, 4:23am to be more precise and I am reviewing in mind all that I missed out on saying and sharing. I found it difficult to cut into the deeper emotion filled aspect that I continue to block myself from.
A pattern that I embark on to protect the vulnerable me. I realized, at this hour, that I told two other persons that I did not hold intimate spaces with. These two persons, women, were almost the testers. Actually, they were the testers. In saying this, I am not trying to diminish their existence, however, I shared with them to see how they would react. Their reactions made me shut that door of that experience, that journey I selected--the termination of a pregnancy. I really thought I would not say out loud that "I had an abortion"/"I terminated a pregnancy" anymore because no one cares, that so many women have before me and will continue to abort after me. In that, I closed off vulnerability, I closed off my hurt, I closed off myself from allowing myself to feel grief because I did not deserve it because "So what?"
And as I peel away the layers in my head, I want to stop, I need to stop because I will lie naked to a world of vulnerability. It is rough to take on, to face. So numbing myself and disconnecting is far more easier than anything. Thus placing myself in a space of void and loneliness when it comes to certain aspects of myself. So whenI connect and I am able to see someone else and I tap into parts of themselves as Black women, their emotions and they are able to achieve vulnerability...they reach a level that I am unable to reach, some sort of healing, that I am unable to go through. It is that very thing that enables me to be a healer, developer, cheerleader and/or booster for some other woman that I hold an intimate space for in my heart and my being. It is a privilege that I do not allow myself because I have ultimately accepted that notion that my tumultuous inner being is the steering wheel that activates my ability to understand so many and so much, yet it is that same thing that drives a wedge in some potentially deeper spaces.
Now, in this stream of consciousness, I return to the original point--abortions. I never wanted children as long as I could remember, however, in finding a true partner, I wanted to create tangible, physical love that is earth bound. My husband and I, after a few short months of being in a relationship made the beautiful decision to have a child, to produce for the world to see our groundedness, our investment in the future of sustaining love. Khari chose us to be his parents. A blessing! Baby number 2 happened towards the end of 2017, and she simply could not be here because of work (I put in my resignation 2 or 3 months in advance and left the organization at the end of June 2018), the toxic environment that I was surrounded in and honestly, I mentally could not handle anymore and unequipped for another pregnancy. She was re-absorbed into the earth and a part of myself died that day. I am still trying to find the whole me while learning the evolved me. It seems unconceivable that this is achievable. Attempting to have another child is not what I need nor want nor feel as though is necessary for wholeness. However, sharing myself, my vulnerability is leaving me open--
Feel free to use my inner narrative. (Pardon any grammatical errors as I have typed this up on my bed, laying down in the dark in the late, late hours/early morning time, as I listen to the rain outside. Feel free to edit as you see fit.)
Thank you for creating such a platform and intimate space. You both will!