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I’ve been living on my own since August and so because I have the time and space I’ve been doing a lot of healing in regards to the pain I don’t talk about mostly the pain around growing up... without.
Every night I sit on my couch and think about the days our lights got cut off… The days our water got cut off… The days we went without food… All the days where I was …without that I’ve buried inside me for the sake of seeing tomorrow.
All those days I spent drowning myself in literature and books… Telling myself if I get straight A’s I won’t have to live like this forever… If I get good grades I can do better… Be better.
Today I told my brother I finally have a couch so he can come over now… He said I didn’t need a couch for him to come over… Reminded me we’ve lived together without furniture… Slept on the floor together...
People don’t know where I’ve come from… mostly because I don’t feel like struggle is something to brag about… Partially because it something I try not to remember… Partially because my poverty came after the silver spoon... so I was really embarrassed above all
People see the neighborhood that I spent most of my life in and they assume that my life has been perfect… What’s the point of a white picket fence if it’s surrounding an empty home...
I don’t want this thread to be misconstrued as me being sad or mopey… It’s just me opening up about the things I don’t usually express…
I just spent the last couple of hours dancing and singing… In my own apartment… And no one’s coming to kick me out… I have food in the fridge… The lights are on…
I can go to sleep worried about something other than survival… And this is the first time since I was six years old that I’ve been able to do that. I’m relieved 
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