Black Girls Be Afraid to Fall

Everyone wants to fly. And when you’re young you try. You flap your arms. You tie on bed sheets & towels to give yourself an extra push. You climb up to the highest peak you can find before someone older & wiser hopefully calls you back. You may even get a spanking. But it doesn’t matter. You still want to fly.

That is until you fall. It may be that first bad knee scrape off a bike from taking a corner too hard. It may be a trip & tumble in a crowded room. Or you may even get pushed, getting a mouthful of dirt. Whenever and however it happens doesn’t matter, except it does. Because in that moment most of us stop trying to fly. We decide that the pain & humiliation of the fall isn’t worth the freedom & the beauty of the flight.

That’s where I am. Aviator goggles on, bed sheet secured across my squared shoulders, arms outstretched and feet cemented to the ground. I’m stuck. I know I could fly, I should fly, hell I would fly if only I would leap. But the ground is so hard. And my heart is so fragile.

Or maybe this is Inception. Maybe I’m dreaming of a new flight when in reality I’m still laying at the bottom of an emotional ravine, too tired and too broken to do anything but dream.

I loved once. And this love was a first class, all expense paid trip to everywhere and nowhere. The kind of love that made grocery aisles exotic getaways and Wendy’s drive through five-star dining. This was “Cant get no better cuz it feels too right.” So I took it and I flew with it. I let it grow me and groom me into a groove. I fell asleep at the wheel as love took a nosedive into nothing. And just like that it was gone. Over. Maybe I didn’t learn my lesson because as soon as I was offered this Too Good to Be True love I took it. Maybe it didn’t hurt enough the first time. Or it hurt too good. Or I thought I was too good to fall again. But the truth is the flight was just that good that the fall was worth it. And it still is.

I want to fly again. I want to feel Love’s wind carry me, wrap me and deliver me to a soft, sure landing. But I’ve hit turbulence, been through a couple storms and I’m not sure my vessel can take the journey again. No. That’s a lie. I love the flight. The freedom and foolishness of it all. But it’s the fall that makes me appreciate it. It’s the fall that reminds me I’m still alive.

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2 thoughts on “Black Girls Be Afraid to Fall

  1. My fall is controlled by a cord attached to mistrust and a few other things. Im starting to cut the cord. That first love..worst hurt was like a fall with a bungee cord that broke!

    • I can’t even talk about my first love because he’s still the love of my life. It’s hard to truly fall when your heart is still floating in mid-air waiting to be caught by someone else. But that’s a whole nother post…

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