to the one who fought with her family

Your mother was never stable.

When you began high school, you had to move out of your old apartment. You had happy memories there, and you wished you didn't have to leave. You were going to live with your aunt for a while -- which you might have hated even more. You would go on to move every summer of your high school career, but you didn't know that yet. That summer was a mixture of emotions; you had to be with your aunt all the time, but most days she went to work -- that left you home alone to watch anime, listen to music, play games and do as you pleased. That was the summer you volunteered at the library. I wish I still had the pictures of those...

But your aunt was emotional trouble in all the bad ways. She would make comments about your body and make light of the things you thought were serious at the time. When she asked you if the problem you had with her was about her relationship with her husband -- they had been fighting a lot in front of you and your family -- you said no, and she walked away.

"Oh," she replied, shrugging. "I thought it was something serious."

I understand why you didn't like her. I don't like her either.

School was your only refuge from her. You were only happy there -- even if the teachers assigned lots of work, it gave you reason to stay in your room and away from her. I don't know whether this was selfish and ungrateful like your family made it out to be, or one of your first attempts to preserve yourself at an early time.

I like to believe the latter.

You aunt always asked you why you never wanted to talk about things to her. In your head, it made perfect sense: why would you talk to someone who didn't respect your feelings and problems? She dismissed your preoccupations with her as silly and she didn't respect your space or your personal belongings. You used to like acting and you used to dream of being an actress, so when you made a mistake, your aunt asked, "Do all actresses have to be dumb?"

Why would you ever reveal your truth to her?

She was mean. She was demeaning. She was belittling. And she expected you to talk to her?

And this was the truth that was most important to you. This truth was the most secretive truth -- the truth that you had to hold on to. Your aunt sensed that you hated her and that you didn't want to be around her, and that was fine -- so long as she didn't know the truth.

It was an esoteric truth that ran in the family. Your mother knew this truth, and felt it too. That's part of why Mom wants to leave and go back home. Your grandmother knew this truth, but continued to make herself subject to it because that was her daughter and she was family and that's what family does for each other.

What family do I belong to?

Mom is a lion. She is unafraid to protect her territory and runs by her own rules. Her rage runs dormant in her blood until someone or something threatens her vision of perfection. Her teeth are sharp and cutting, her roar is a battle cry of fury.

You are a rabbit. You are timid, shy, afraid of conflict. You spend your days in the meadows, born of the earth and steady as an African drum. You found peace in the heartbeat of the Earth, and your life force beat together with it in time. You didn't like confrontation, and you hopped away as soon as it faced you.

In their own way, all the women of the family were lions. But your mother married a monkey and gave birth to a rabbit. How could this be? How could an animal of the earth be borne from a family of fire?

Maybe if you were a lion, you would be strong enough to face them.

What was it about the word family that hurt you so much? Family was your blood. The ones you called mother and father and sister and brother and cousin, the ones you called aunt and uncle and the ones that had your last name or the new person who married your aunt or uncle and you had to call them aunt or uncle out of respect.

But family was supposed to love and protect you. Tell you they're proud of you and lift you up. Tell you stories of what they used to do when they were your age and want better than what they had for you. Support you no matter what you choose to do or who you choose to love.

Does family make you feel bad for making mistakes? Does family fight a few times a week? Does family make each other cry and call each other wicked and ungrateful and hostile? Does family talk behind each other's back and call each other names?

People who share blood can do that.

People who love each other usually don't.

She might have loved you. She might still love you, and she might not think she's done anything wrong to you.

It's so easy to forget that someone loves you when they make you feel like shit.

Maybe you're no longer a Jamaican. Maybe you weren't around long enough to know the rules. While all these bad things happen, there always seems to be some sort of bond that transcends everything. How can resent and love coexist? Maybe it was one of those things you left behind when you left Jamaica. Maybe you left without really understanding how family worked.

I don't know whether or not it's okay. I can't tell you it's okay if it might not be.

Dad is family. I trust him, so you can trust him. We'll be with him soon.

For now...please hold out hope for the future. Know that one day, things will get better. Talk to your friends. Sleep in as long as you can. Cry things out. You can do it. Because I exist, you will survive.

It feels like you're going to die, but you will survive.

the one who lives now