Undaunted.

We do not always get things right, or make the right choices, or be with the right people, or say the right things, or do the right things– even when we really, really do try to. We constantly evolve, through perceptions and ideals, adjust to re-align ourselves to a moving world. We do everything to fit in and match up.

Sometimes, it works; and all of this magic rightness and righteousness turn out nicely- nice job, nice house, nice partner, nice kids, nice life. At other times, it doesn’t. We realise, having put so much effort into being right, that it doesn’t always get us “there”. Of course, “rightness” is subjective, as is that place called “there”, but the pain is the same, as is the gaping hole from the disappointment, rejection, loss, or heart-break; and the silent question on the edge of our lips that reads “didn’t we do all the right things that we were asked to”?

People will think things and see things differently; seated outside that glass window that is our life, they will drool over its’ seeming perfection, and even adopt our names as prayer points; unaware of the splinters and cracks in our souls from which tinny drops of life seep in to culminate into a rivulet of ache and pain.

These days almost always come. These feelings, almost all of us are familiar with. And it is okay to ask the questions, and cry the aches out; but we must also make sure to praise ourselves for trying and daring to love; for giving even without getting a dime in return. We must praise ourselves for having the courage to entrust our hearts to be broken; for having been vulnerable enough to be invaded. Most importantly, we must praise ourselves, because deep down in our hearts, we know that once beaten is not always twice shy; and even when our heart’s been beaten to a pulp by life’s wanton surprises, we would never truly give up on trying. We are beautiful because we are strong. We are strong, because we’ve been weak before, and we broke, and we healed. And now, we are standing again, waiting undauntedly to be broken again…

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© The Short Black Girl, 2016.

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