Bout it

I’m grateful for the real ones. The ones that show “I love you” by showing up and requesting me to be at my best, however incremental. The ones that won’t deflect or project to avoid accountability or being wrong. Ones who don’t need to know everything, but can name their feelings and accept their shift. The ones that seek healing instead of escapes. I’m grateful for the real ones. Ones who display humanity over performance. The ones I can count on who won’t judge me for being in need. Ones who won’t help me just so I can repay the favor. Those that won’t aid out of martyrdom and resent me thereafter. Ones without excuses. Ones who can not know and still grow. I’m grateful for the real ones. Where faith and hope are actionable towards progressive change. Where they don’t hide behind titles and roles to feel important or superior. Where shame doesn’t wear a mask of abuse. I’m grateful for the real ones who say “sorry I hurt you” and can wait to be forgiven. Real ones that don’t begrudge me for being human or tally my mistakes. Who reach out to truly check in and actually support instead of feigning concern just to be down and included. I’m grateful for the real ones. Real honesty about their limitations without justifications and platitudes. That don’t get brand new with revolving seasons. Who are reliable and legit. Who aren’t always victims. Who can act right no matter where they’re invited. Those that make space at all tables and don’t throw bows or pull chairs from under me. The ones that accept discomfort as requisite for growth. Who walk alongside me without dominance and sidesteps as their failsafe. Those who honor the ancestors and elders, that respect children. Ones who soothe their inner child. Those who speak truth to power and own their limits. Ones who don’t want me to win just so they look good. Kind ones. Real ones.