I searched for an apology in Toi’s hellos. A non-verbal remedy for the anger I carried, buried in every synonym for inferiority she attached to my name. I became proficient in the art of pretending - not to know, not to see, not to hear, looking to my mother to validate my irreverent responses. But loving her daughter taught me the art of sacrifice. And at 19-years old, I divided myself to hold us both together and compensate for the spaces that craved her mother's acceptance. So I primed the cracks with you're beautiful's, I'm proud of you's, there's nothing wrong with your body, and your hair is fine's- reducing myself to the consolation prize.
On the introspective days, I tell myself that Shay influenced my feelings towards her. That she gave me the tools to build my armor of resentment from every comment she told me her mother made about me - saying that I wasn't good enough, wasn't a man, a broke bitch from the hood. Shay didn't think me being hurt by this was valid. It was more important to "just get over it" That I didn't understand. So I waited. She kept our relationship secret to make her life easy. I stayed invisible for two years. Completing college applications and personal statements on her behalf. Depleting my savings. Encouraging greatness in her that she fought against me to see. Raising a young woman. Three more years of invisibility. On the fourth year, I was welcomed to holiday dinners, vacations, and the ability to run in really quick and pee. I've always owed her sister for speaking up to her family and changing that circumstance. I joined the Thanksgiving dinner table with uncertainty. "Is anyone going to apologize? How's my expression? Does it look like I know? Is Toi going to thank me?" It was clear that I wasn't grateful to be around Shay’s family because the previous four years were unresolved for me. But I knew that having a healthier relationship meant creating harmony. Nothing made up for lost time, or the improper use of it. And perhaps being present meant beginning again, only this time with intention.
So, in 2014, I wrote Toi three paragraphs about wanting to start over and work together. Sending the letter from my work e-mail was a projection of insecurity to prove that my career negated her view of me. She said thank you. We never revisited. I don't know who was supposed to make the move for lunch or a sit-down. There wasn't a gesture, comment, or invitation I welcomed without searching for hidden meaning. Over time, I intentionally withdrew after never feeling genuine energy between us. Despite my desire for us to go forward, it was clear that I'd cloaked myself in animosity.
There was no argument between us. We tiptoed through empty greetings, reaching for the warm embrace whose temperature was inconsistent with how coldly our back taps synchronized, and our abdomens diverged. Even effective wound dressing is a passive form of healing.
I recalled a passage from "A New Earth"- The quicker you are in attaching verbal or mental labels to things, people, or situations, the more shallow and lifeless your reality becomes, and the more deadened you become to reality...In this way, cleverness may be gained, but wisdom is lost, and so are joy, love, creativity, and aliveness.
I had to ask myself why words mattered. How, despite their being untrue, did I allow them to reduce my reality? During this time, I realized much about Toi - insecurities with her appearance resulting in plastic surgery and raising her daughter against false ideals of beauty. Shame from her upbringing, inability to find happiness with herself. I suspect that somewhere in life, she had either been told or shown that someone didn't think her good enough. And she carried this resentment with her. I began to sympathize and draw connections between this and how she treated Shay. I couldn't do this at 19 or 25, when all I did was react.
Now, I'm embracing that the obsession over labels takes away from the importance of understanding, accepting, and even humbling myself. As much as her opinion missed the mark on who I was, my ego felt entitled to an apology - this said more about me than her judgement did. Minimizing the ego is an interruptive process. But I chose to let go of emptily attacking Toi back. It never proved anything about either of us. We can enable words to victimize us. But when we actively understand the importance of releasing anger, judgement, and other unhealthy feelings - we render words powerless. We move on. With that, there is really no need to ever be imprisoned by them.