“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Water wells up in my eyes.
I fall backwards through space and time.
I am on the Plantation.
Overseer ties me to the whipping post.
He rips my back red with lash.
I scream with each fire red lick.
My “He” is forced to watch.
And says nothing.
Mistress insists our daughter be sold to a sadistic Owner who is a known pedophile as punishment for Master’s “interest” in me.
Our baby girl is 5.
She cries for her daddy to save her,
arms outreached tears carving betrayal and sadness into her skin, her soul for seven generations.
You, my “He,” are made to watch.
And do nothing.
Master bends me over a stall,
hikes my dress up, exposing my backside to the cruel air and takes me.
You, my “He,” are instructed to watch.
And see everything.
Without protecting me.
I see you see me see you-
let Massa pollute my womb and soul.
Beat and mutilate me.
Sell our children away out of spite of our love.
My heart dies to you.
For over 400 years you, my “He,” have disappointed me, failed to protect me and been incapable of providing for me.
So I did it myself.
Like a lioness, I have provided for and protected that which I call my own–including you–with a ferocious love.
From then to now, I haven’t trusted you to put my needs above your own survival.
While I understand it, secretly I’ve resented you.
And you knew it.
My hurt mingled with your shame, embarrassment, and guilt that kept us oceans apart emotionally.
But then something happened.
You forgave yourself.
When you forgave you, the shame fell away like shackles. Your head rose and you no longer needed to run.
Just like a lion’s presence is his power, by forgiving you for not being there for me, your power from within was restored to its quiet, regal glory.
When you forgave yourself, you, my “He,” could see my anger was hurt
hiding the eternal love I have for you.
You were able to get in my world.
Feel my pain.
Without it equaling you were a failure.
It took over 400 years for you to say to me, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
It took seven generations for me to hear it.
So when I cry in your arms as you rock me,
what we are doing is healing…
… We’re healing Black love.