Past Imperfect: Breaking the Chains that Bind

(originally posted July, 2006 via Y360)

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Bag lady… you gon hurt’cho back…draggin’ all dem bags, like dat – Erykah Badu
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As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. – Nelson Mandela

Free your mind, and the rest will follow - En Vogue
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… Okay… so I’m trying to sweep up all the little pieces that were left behind yesterday, and it occurred to me that if I’m going to tell people that their misery is of their own doing, maybe it would be helpful to let them in on another big secret:


There is no shame in having experienced bad things, and we sell our FUTURE out when we remain chained to that which we should have abandoned long ago.



I’m not talking about crying over spilled milk. I’m talking about lives being locked away in regret and marinating in unnecessary bitterness over things we cannot change that happened ages ago. My mother died of a broken heart long before her heart gave out in May of this year and I will not see myself follow the same path.

I suffered what could be called abuse (both physical and emotional) at the hands of the people who felt it was their duty to do what my parents couldn’t. I lost my mind when I was 15 and I’m still here only because I wouldn’t have my dear Grandmother’s reputation sullied in her community because I went off my rocker and killed myself. I have committed atrocities against my own body and others for which I will one day have to answer to God himself. I failed as a wife and as a parent. I have lived in situations to which most folks would turn up their pointy ass noses and say “ugh.. I would NEVER do that” (and whyyabullshittin – you don’t know what you’ll never do until you feel like your survival is on the line but I digress) But I am STILL here. In spite of everyone who said I’d never be shit… those who called me crazy… those who said I was unlovable because of where I’ve been and what I’ve done in this life. To all my detractors I say FUCK YOU. Up against the wall, in handcuffs, with superglue on your lips!

But… there is another side to this: I’m not special because I survived. In one form or another, we’re all survivors. There are a million stories behind a million doors. So many of us carry deep, dark secrets, and in some futile attempt at maintaining a façade of normalcy, we hide the scary parts as best we can, and do not permit ourselves to truly LIVE, because we believe that we are abnormal. Newsflash: nothing and no one is NORMAL, or at the very least it can be said that what is normal for one person is freakishly grotesque to another. Living in a society based on laws written by man puts us in a place where we are trained to accept “customary” as “normal.”

Somewhere along the line, we must gain an understanding there is no mortal man or woman on this Earth that has a Heaven or Hell to put you in. However, it is apparent to me that so many of us… too many of us, really, sentence ourselves to a lifetime of regret because of the fuckups of the past. It’s not even about making the next wo/man pay for the sins of the last in terms of relationships, it’s about second-guessing (and third and fourth-guessing, whyyabullshittin) ourselves, in ALL areas of our lives, into analysis paralysis and paranoia deluxe.

It’s a wonder that some of us can get out of bed in the morning to face the world. Sometimes it’s all we can do to fake our way through a day hoping for a better tomorrow. Lord knows I’ve had plenty of those days – lying to my co-workers about my non-existent allergies because I was trying to hide the fact that the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing and I was just embarrassed beyond belief, first off for going out like a bitch and crying in the first place; but in front of OTHER PEOPLE? *OH HEYLL NAWLL!*

Again, I grant that the life I have lived has had its extremely dishonorable elements. I have done things for which my family would likely disown me if they ever became aware. Conversely, they have inflicted pain upon me such that there have been times when I didn’t care if I ever saw any of them again. Over and over I asked myself WHY? Why ME?

Then it struck me… even if I learned why things were the way they were, would it make them any better? Would the understanding take me back in time to make things different? Nope. We are each the sum of our experiences. We teach our children not to quit… to dust themselves off after falling off their bikes, and get back on to ride that bitch till the wheels fall off. We tell them to get back out there on that field and swing for the fences, and here we are, ashamed of ourselves, living a fraction of the lives of which we are capable because we fell down. Mmph.. lawwd *eye roll*

It’s time. Time to set yourself free. Right now. Matter of fact, not NOW... but five minutes ago.

In closing I paraphrase the words of a poem that I can’t give proper credit for, but it goes a little something like this:

“Who are you to believe that you are a divine being, worthy of love and respect? I SAY, Who are you NOT TO?”

Life is given to us to be appreciated and lived ABUNDANTLY. Do not let the failures and mistakes of your past deter you from new opportunities or paths to greatness destined to be yours.

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.