I don’t remember everything you said but I remember everything you made me feel. You, with whom I have tried always to speak truth and walk truth and be truth because I love you, you made me feel like I had on clown shoes and a false nose and a rainbow-coloured wig but all I had on was myself and my truth and my joy – and you laughed at me. You laughed at my fears and called them trite and told me to stop listening to Dr Google, but not once did you stop to ask how I’m doing and not segue into you telling me how you’re doing.
I don’t remember what you said but I remember how you made me feel. I am not angry or bitter or disappointed or even hurt – I got past that like I always do because if life has taught me anything it’s that nothing good ever comes from my anger or my pain, beautiful disasters that breed more disaster. No. Everything beautiful in my life is because I chose forgiveness over hurt and anger and pain; because I choose, consciously and as often as I remember, to do the loving thing. You will not steal my peace and replace it with anger, you will not hijack my joy and give me hurt instead. You won’t even take up space in my memory because what is you will soon and very soon be replaced by what is peace and what is all of the things I choose to make of myself, things that do not include staying stuck in a past of regret and sadness, carrying the burden of remembering you.
Everything is not for everyone and I am not for everyone and you, dear, have proved to be everyone. I am many things but I am not a doormat – not anymore – and I am no longer here for you to decrease me without replenishing; I’m not available to be your plan B when plan A fails nor to be any of the things I used to be despite that you never gave a thought to my needs except when it made you look and feel good. I don’t remember what you said but I remember how I felt, and I remember too that I am a God-child and a goddess and a queen. Hey there, bitch, did you forget who I am?