Support

“Andale, Reina,” says the boatyard guard, opening the gate. It’s been awhile since I’ve been called Queen. It’s late and hot, and Habibi trembles in the wind. Scary. So I climbed off the boat and descended the ladder to terra firma. Because I can. In the middle of the Sea, I couldn’t, or wouldn’t. I tolerated. I forebeared. I stayed because the alternative was worse – a kayak in a big swell? No. So.

Knowing when to leave, and actually doing so, is a skill, one I have made it my business to learn. Because otherwise my energy dwindled as I waited for the batterer to realize s/he is wrong and apologize.

Never happened. Not once. When I tolerate disrespect, I disrespect myself, and that includes pretending I’m not afraid when in reality I’m terrified. Get off the freakin’ boat, babe.

Takes a while to uncover true feelings. They are often layered over with addictions.

Ten braces held Habibi upright, initially. One day, someone took two away. “¡Dios mio!” I exclaimed, but he explained that I did not need them. Still, I was wary for the next several days. Yet Habibi remains vertical.

Yesterday, I noticed another support gone, this time under the bow, and again Fear had a lot to say about it. So I pondered. Could it be that I did not need the support I expected from certain people? When I am willing to look more closely at most of my relationships, I notice a pattern of tolerance in the face of criticism, denigration, and downright abuse. But I loved them! And my rose-colored expectations made it harder to support myself by leaving. 

Some days I am so frustrated that I gave away – willingly! – so much of my time and energy. While working on my books – editing stories, adding paintings, designing flow – Anger hisses that I should have been doing this decades ago. Maybe. And, I’m doing it now. The Bod – wrinkled and bruised and bitten – is still supporting The Spirit. 

Before I left La Cruz, I took shirts to an embroiderer. He had a machine that stitched whatever you wanted onto cloth. When I forget that I am a child of God, I have only to don a blue or black t-shirt. On the back? Habibi. 

Maybe she will fall down. Maybe I will. Maybe I will add more support for both of us. Because we are Beloved. And so are you.