I remember the first time I opened a 2-liter soda bottle. I was 7 or younger, the table it sat on was up to my chest or slightly below it, and it was because of a challenge from an adult, a man to be exact, who told me I couldn’t do it. He may have been my dad. And although I’m a righty, I did it with my left after a few struggles. It’s still my go-to hand. What’s the point to this other than my random memory? Well, it’s another linkage for me in my history about my ability to perform feats under strain, particularly where I gotta prove disparagers. But I also smile at the fact that my little self did that (cuz it hurt and I still have small hands & wrists!) and didn’t give up until I accomplished it.
We’re powerful y’all!
When those naysaying voices around or in us say we ain’t got it, we do. I’m a socialized fighter so I like forcefully proving that I am fierce. I also cope by justifying my wins in the face of peril and danger, sometimes limiting myself to only perform under pressure or when my life depends on it. Where I gotta make it. That’s not a self-care strategy. It’s survival, naturally ingrained to an extent in my core as an animal, and also very much based in trauma. It’s not strengths-situated. Nevertheless, I got it. You got it. We have to remember that we do no matter how it emerges AND we need to create situations where this simple, yet constant fact emerges and deposits in a happy place for us to access. Examine your life and remember where you prevailed, where you soared, where you did more than just get by. Shit, phone a friend.
We’re powerful, family!
I’m thankful for today’s memory and for you. Asé.