Flames

Quote by Chanel Miller.

Too many times — all previous times — I have offered honesty only to be met with spit and fire. How many times can you bear the wrath of toxic masculinity before it becomes second nature? Before your body learns not to flinch, while your heart only knows how to itself tense. I have learnt that shining a mirror onto these rotten insides always results in flames erupting. All these burns on my tired skin. That there is no truth speaking without consequence, no naming without being ready to burn bridges. 

Today, for the very first time, was different.

I want to believe that empathy is indeed an effective response to counter these looming structures of oppression. (It’s not, I know.) I want to believe that decentering ego is a good enough first step to unlearning. During one of the fires, the only person who responded in a way that didn’t make me shrink further was someone who responded with sadness instead of rage. Sadness that she had failed her students, instead of vitriol and senseless accusations. (See: “The students are racist for saying White professors are racist.”) Sadness is ownership, is responsibility, is relationship. Sadness is a glimpse of a turning point. 

I am learning to hold space without pushing people into corners, even when I’m hurt and angry. To extend critical compassion, to push aside my pride, to fill the space between us with an honesty that comes from care, not vengeance. To acknowledge my own pain and boundaries without any expectations of changed outcomes. To know that speaking truth into the air is enough, for now.