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America’s Truth is my bitter Medicine
This past year (actually past yearssss but it really hit these last 12 months), I have had my own inner reckoning with America. I thought I knew and got what was ugly about our issues with race + power but I was still protected in so many ways.
Truth has been my bitter medicine//Soul has been my balm//Writing has been my lifeline.
Truth and clear eyes wrecked me then strengthened me. My innocent eyes, my white privileged parts, my inner little girl shattered into pieces and I got to pick those pieces up -rebuild myself- mold and shape and transform them into a Truer place.
One that holds spirit in one hand, reality in the other, and has that soul smack down the center.
I don’t believe in choosing between spirit/soul and reality. I live from both. I’m sickened by the conspiracy theories touted by white *conscious* communities, white supremacists + those that have felt unseen- which have been stirred and applauded and lifted up by DT. These theories make it easier to look away. Ignore. Pretend what is right in front of us. There is so much pretending/fantasy/child like innocence masquerading as ‘woke.’
I’m grossed out by the pretending. And although I haven’t fallen down red pill rabbit holes around Q… I know how to pretend. Guess what. It’s what women are taught to do. I know…
