Since the inception of my blog I have always strived to post positive, personal stories. Today I have returned stronger and with a renewed sense of purpose. During my hiatus I got my only ever tattoo on my inner left wrist. Every time I check my phone or pray with my daughter I am reminded of the mantra that has passed through my head this entire past year. These three words are from a poem written by the late author and poet Maya Angelou. I have always loved to roller skate. Several years back I had a bad fall on that wrist after someone knocked me down. It has not been the same since. I had to have surgery and a plate and screws were put in. I carry a scar there now that marks my trauma. It was something I did not ask for, did not deserve, and did not cause. But it happened nonetheless. There is no use looking back and wondering if I could have done something different. It happened and I had no choice but to mend my break and move forward. I have not let that fall define me and I still love to roller skate. Only now if I ever fall again I will know how to land. That wrist can no longer be broken. It is made of steel and can withstand just about anything. Note the words.
Still I Rise
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Still I Rise.
