7.09.21
I was holding off on writing while I prepared for a big shift in my life this week. Instead of a shift, there was a crumble and I am truly beside myself with emotions of all kinds.
I thought I would be here to tell you that I finally secured the legal part of the solo parenting I have been doing for almost two years and the full custody I have had against my will for over a year. I would tell you that because I’d been left to fend for myself and my big babies with no word of where their father was or if he would ever come back, the judge awarded me full custody and I could carefully turn the page and carry on with my hopes of healing and reclaiming my freedom.
Instead, I’m here to remind you, in the words of Malcolm X, that “The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman.” And were it not for a fleet of friends who remembered my court date, prepped for the difficulty with me, and literally made it possible for me to breathe afterward I don’t know where I’d be right now.
Nothing mattered to the judge as much as the rights of the father who abandoned my children. But since he abandoned them and refused all communication, their dad wasn’t even there to be coddled in real-time. There was just me, once again, enduring the consequences of his actions. In shambles.
I have been nearly silent in my writing about the real details of this situation. I thought I would continue to be silent until my kids were legally protected but if protection doesn’t exist for their mother and sole caregiver then protection simply doesn’t exist. All I can see are question marks. And a bit of rage. I’m working on rest and recovery while carving out space to find solutions. I’ll write more when I can.
Today:
What’s more volatile than a roller coaster? That’s what I’ve been riding and I am exhausted down to my soul. For nearly a year I’ve been searching for a place to relocate with my sons but I’ve been stalled by covid, legalities, and money. Here, I am deeply tired. My bones hold pain, my skin steeped in betrayal. My muscles hold everything and everyone in this household up, even if just barely. I imagine that nearly anywhere else I might remember what it’s like to be anxiety-free or excited about new adventures. Here, I worry always and it wears me down.
But even when it comes to moving towards peace, running to a life worth living, I am reminded that there are barriers everywhere. Will I be too Black, too gay, too liberal, too partially but not really divorced, too much of a single mom, too borderline poor, too hindered by disease, and too downtrodden to create a beautiful life and feel safe somewhere new?
For years, it has been my wish to share some of the most enjoyable parts of my life, my kids and how we homeschool/unschool, projects we get into, the art we create. To share everyday musings and failed attempts at organization but all of the hardest parts of life get in the way. One day we’ll get to the fun parts.
Much love y’all. -B