Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday. And I am in Connecticut, where I live now – alone – after harmfully careless things were done to me by harmfully careless people. One person in particular – a person whose face I can’t even remember from just four weeks ago, a fortuitous development that makes me feel happy and hopeful and clean.
Six months ago, I moved from Boston to Mississippi because the person I loved there promised me beautiful things, and I wanted to be a part of them. Today, I want only to be a part of things that I know I can hold fast to – things that I know won’t betray me, or trick me, or trade me in for something easier. I gave Mississippi every single piece of myself – and in return, it spit in my face like I was nothing. But I am not nothing. I am a good and generous and loving person, and I deserve loyalty and honesty and good, old-fashioned, uninhibited respect. So tomorrow, for my birthday, I am giving every single piece of me that I once gave away back to myself. Because everything is good — I am good — and nobody ever gets to tell me otherwise again.
I know it’s been awhile, but I’m planning to be back in earnest in the new year. In the meantime, merry Christmastime to all.