Has anyone ever loved you through a time when you couldn’t love yourself?
Someone did that for me. Nanna.
When I came to school smelling like urine and beer, she loved me anyway.
When I said horrible things to her, because that was all I knew, she loved me anyway.
Nanna’s kindness let me experience that I was not my pain.
Which brings me to the question in my mind today:
How do we love someone in a way that shows him how to love himself?
It’s a real question. Because every person has pain.
Black women have permission from society to cry.
Black men don’t. They don’t have permission to say they don’t know. To f%$k up and try again. They don’t have permission to say when they are hurt.
I can’t help but wonder if my father would have stayed, if he had that kind of permission. If he had known grace and mercy.
If you love somebody, love that person for real.
Love him when he is not good. Stay, when he has done something wrong.
If you truly love him … give him the permission to BE who he is.
Love him when he can’t love himself.
Because Black men don’t have a structure in place for self-reflection, so they may not have the capacity to heal, the way we can.
Their healing isn’t going to come through them.
It’s going to come through us.
Please comment below so we can bear witness.