Yearning for Community

Maybe ur like me- or it's my fault. Either way, the only way out is expression.

Are you sure, sweetheart, that you want to be well?… Just so’s you’re sure, sweetheart, and ready to be healed, cause wholeness is no trifling matter. A lot of weight when you’re well.

-Toni Cade Bambara, The Salt Eaters

From the very first time I read this quote I knew that I was headed in the right direction. I believe books speak to you, and they find you in divine time. I was navigating my own wellness journey and absolutely at the point of no return. I was in a space of too broken to pretend I was good and too close to good to pretend I could sustain being broken.

But I did... pretend. I pretended I was good and kept moving. Kept working. Kept producing. Kept smiling. And do you know what actually pinned me to the ground- refusing to release me?

You guessed it- grief. Well, maybe you didn't guess it, but if you've been around you know I lost 7 people in under 16 months. All from different pieces of my community, with the last being one of the loves of my life- my mother's mother.

I called her my best friend. One of my first examples of true love. One of the biggest pieces of my community. Still. And losing her took me out. But not before I continued to pretend I was good. That the straw that broke the camel's back hadn't broken me into pieces because I could still walk. I could still work. I could still think.

Until I couldn't.

I eventually had to stop working and many other things that I loved to do, to just be.

To just sleep.

To just cry.

To just scream.

To just stare.

To just do absolutely nothing because I couldn't think or feel or focus on anything.

And in this state of freeze I realized just how bad I was yearning.

Yearning for community and connection and love for me that mirrored that love I had lost. And outside of my parents, I realized I couldn't find it anywhere.

My truth? I struggle to maintain community. As baby B I was great at making friends, but bad at maintaining friendships.

I went to Kindercare and Headstart, George Watts and E K Powe, Northridge and James Martin, and West Charlotte, CATO, and Durham Tech for high school. Never ending where I begun. Losing all the relationships along the way.

This was the beginning of MySpace and phones that had minutes but could be taken everywhere. And after all this moving and grooving- I was scared. Scared to form something real for the fear of having it taken away. I'd enjoy it while it lasted, but never held on too tight because it was very rare that it might. Last that is.

My longest relationships are with my college crew. But their the same, too. In person people- meaning our strongest relationships are with people we see. And when we did see, we saw each other regularly. I can remember graduating college and winding up teaching in the same state. Being roomed together in Mississippi and eventually basically living in the same city. Dinner together almost every night. With the whole family. Even the baby when he finally came. Falling asleep on the couch and waking up with 2 hours left before we all had to be to work. Driving through the country to the backwoods to make sure everyone was good. Long phone conversations about truths too precious to quickly reveal, so having to peel and peel and peel. My first real feeling of community. That I had a village around me, outside of family.

Because my family wasn't a village. It was a town. With people plotted all over. Some coming together to laugh and grow. Some i still to this day hardly know. My mom even moved us out of town for a bit. But I only think that helped us split. Helped us forget about blood by getting it out the mud. Helped us forget about unity by giving us independence. Only seeing each other at dinner. Or for the occasional movie. Thinking this helped things run smoothly. Thinking it kept everyone sane. But this is where it all began. The yearning.

The learning that I may not be enough. That blood isn't enough for trust. That sometimes you're the them and the people you love are the us. The beginning of real pain. Real confusion about why I wasn't enough. Why I wasn't wanted. Why I wasn't needed.

Because I need my people. I need to belong. I need to connect. I need all of that.

And it has to be more than romantic love. It has to be more than being wrapped up in one other person, and maybe that's why... Maybe that's why I never took any guy serious. Never fell crazy in love. Because I knew, from a young age, that it takes more. It takes more than love to sustain a relationship. It takes more than yearning and wanting and being.

It takes more than gifts on holidays, or dinners.

It takes more than cheering in case it's a winner.

It takes more than laughing together every once in a while.

It even takes more than supporting with raising a child.

Community is more that just relationship.

It's care.

It's support.

It's presence.

It's choice.

And i want to be chosen. I want my people to choose me. Even though I'm an in person person who's too anxious to pick up the phone. Even though I'm too sad sometimes to spend time. Even though I'll probably turn the conversation political and bring up a little despair. Even though I'm not quite whole so still a little trifling.

I want my people to still want to be there.

Still want to chose me.

Still want my community.

And I just don't think I've found that quite yet, but baby- I'm yearning.

*cue Brian McKnight Anytime*

Yearning but hopeful. And determined. Because baby, i think I've earned it. And if i haven't I've definitely named it. So now I guess I just have to claim it...

One offering I have for creating space for new connections is our free #CreativeAccountabilityCircles starting tomorrow and every Monday from 7 to 8pm est. Come write with me and maybe we can be community.