Y'all Won and I Healed: Another Sankofa Story

I took a trip back to the deep south a little while ago and sheesh! It was interesting. I had a short list of priorities-all of which were completed. But what I hadn’t listed was a given. Anytime I go back to my childhood region, there is a theme that surfaces and I have resolved to be open to it because it could be a chance to heal more deeply.

I somehow knew I needed to acknowledge spaces that were left unmemorialized. For me, these are places of trauma, sadness, and innocence. And to start, I visited what was formerly the “church on the glade”- the site of my primary indoctrination. I had to go back and remember the smell of Sunday school. . . the “bat birds” that came through the chimney. . . the scary bathroom. I remembered my wonder and innocence and I watched the image of my young self usher me back to the very air I took in before things got complicated.

I also visited the grocery store where I spent most Saturdays posted up selling donuts, candy, and asking for donations for church. It was the bane of my existence- sun up to sun down. I recalled feelings of deep embarrassment, degradation, and rage. I felt pimped out. So if you can imagine me walking up to the store after almost 20 years, then please know that it nearly took me out. It felt like I was identifying people on a crime scene (so much happened out there). That kind of shit can weigh on your soul.

Lastly, I took the first drive to my Grandma Cleo’s house for the first time since her transition. I got butterflies thinking about how excited I used to be to see her pull up in the yard after she’d gone fishing. She meant a great deal to me and though I let go, I have been very sad. I miss her human form ( although her spirit is with me). I stood in her humble yard, glitching. I was spacing out feeling all the life and memories and safeness of that space. You see, in my own way, I’d told my grandma I was queer when I was a little boy. She entertained it with love and we kept talking and snapping peas under the sunset. I felt like a haven was destroyed when she died.

Soooo there! I just coughed up several chapter summaries from my memoir. It’s a dense description, but it’s the perfect way to say it’s okay to heal. All year long, i’ve been talking about catching a vibe this summer. Ha! The universe was like, “aite, bet!” and there I was in South GA, whimpering in the pasture like a devastated child. The category is vibes and the answer is “HEAL.” I didn’t go out of the country, or to a festival, and I damn sure didn’t procure a summer body. So y’all won all that for yourselves. Congrats. Whatever came with summer, I missed it. (I mean, caught the last 5 minutes of Pride but time FLEW!) I did heal though and I suppose there is more to do.

Big peace and love to every soul that’s healing… one summer at a time.

-Teddy the Brave