I define myself for myself in the knowledge of self-love. I always forgive others. Not just because I have to, but for myself. I always spend time trying to improve myself with loosing my identity. My desires are stronger than anything. I have options and never willing to settle for less. Finding love was not good to me. The problem was my way of thinking. I am always determined to succeed and always willing to help. However, self-love is all I have. My determination and desires are all I have. The problem was having someone to believe in me fully. I appeared I was being weighed down and everytime I was slowly losing myself until I snap back to normal.
I had standards that needed to be met. I thought I deserved it. When I love, I love fiercely. It is all of nothing. Somehow, I am not accepted. I am not perceived as the number one woman. I feel as though black love is the most difficult. We, as black people are fierce and stubborn. It is intimidating, but once you have it – beautiful. Now, I seem to be hiding behind a tough exterior. I am afraid of crying again. Hiding seems to be a natural reflex I have. Sometimes, I think I do not deserve this kind of love. Deep in my heart, I deserve it. However, my mind takes over telling me otherwise.
People leave and disappear from me. I am not what they wanted me to be. Then I become stubborn. I can only be myself. That is what so many people do not accept. I sit front row to my thoughts and opinions. Pushing past my limitations and capabilities. Black love is supposed to be the strongest and sacred. I try to find it and manifest it, but I fail. The concept fails me and I run and hide in my thoughts. I wonder, who will accept me? Love me with all my flaws.
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