Who am I?
Doesn’t that sound goofy?
Well it is goofy,
But it is as real as rain in the spring and dryness in the Sahara,
I am not sure who I am,
Surely, you want to know why?
Fret not, I will tell you~
From a young age I had a flaw, a huge potentially fatal flaw,
I desired to care take, make better, fix,
No one ever had to ask me to do anything,
If I could do it or I had it,
I did it,
I know that Freud and many others would say,
I was on a quest to get love,
And they would be right,
Because aren’t we all,
As a young girl I covered my fears with doing,
And giving,
Made me feel worth a lot,
And powerful,
Because you do know, don’t you,
The one who has the most to give is the strongest,
Hardee har har…
I always knew that was garbage,
But until well like, yesterday I didn’t know how not to be that,
Or do it,
I was defined by my heart, my giving, my strong womanness,
My never needing to ask anyone for anything,
The other day the words flew out of my mouth,
That I had never owed a debt to anyone,
I was so proud of that for so long,
When I didn’t have I did without,
How virtuous, I thought,
Har de har~
But it was so sad,
At that same time,
Because it meant that I never allowed myself to be weak,
Soft, vulnerable to anyone,
Dag~~~telling some truths up in here,
And yesterday I turned a corner,
May seem like a small one but for me it was huge,
I made a decision to literally take myself out of a lot of equations,
That I had no business being in anyway,
Ouch~
And oh my God,
I shudder to say this,
I went to someone for comfort,
I bared my heart and soul to this one,
Told them all the things I was feeling and was going on to make,
Me feel as I was feeling,
I was scared,
Thought I would be judged,
Told that I could do even more than I had done,
But I wasn’t,
She prayed for me,
Wrapped love around me,
Made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a very long time,
Mothered~~
Yeah I felt mama’d,
I had been craving that since,
The last shovel of dirt was placed on my mama’s casket,
On February 1, 2003~
Also realized I hadn’t cried in years,
Which is ironic,
Because I used to be a ‘barrel of water’,
But my tears had dried with the burial of my mother,
I had decided that since I was now a motherless child,
I needed to be even growner,
But now I know that I don’t have to be anything but me,
The test is to figure out who that me is,
Because yes my friends,
I confess,
I don’t know who that really is,
Without all the roles,
Who is inside this woman,
Who am I when I am weak,
Who am I when I don’t want to do something,
And just say no,
Who am I,
Well my man told me this morning,
That I am BLESSED,
And it is time to do me,
To bask in God’s love and enjoy being,
Mrs. Menchan,
And enjoy all that I have prayed and worked for,
And to relax and let the rest go,
Pray for me,
That I listen to him,
Because as GOD is my witness,
I am finally READY~
Angelia Menchan
