The Pain, The Quest, The Healing.
Starring at my phone, I thought of how to pen my thoughts without sounding weepy. Fighting back the tears, I tried to add words to the emotions swelling in my chest. Thinking about myself, my brothers out there, and all the young chappies trying to do good and be the man they dream of; I wonder if we’re not all broken.
3 days after my birthday this year, something happened that forever changed my life.
Holding a child in my hands, watching her smile back at me, seeing her face lit up into a broad smile as I kiss her cheeks; I realize how much I want to protect her. Something swells in my chest, a knot wounds around my chest, my belly tightens into a ball; I’m not nauseous, my breathing is a bit shallow, but my thoughts are racing wide and wild on their own, looking for a conclusive answer. And the question rings louder in my ears, am I broken?
We were raised the way we are because of the way they were raised. We were loved the way we saw, because of the way they were loved. You see a lot of folks take a swipe at African parents for their parenting style, truth is, that’s all they knew how to do, as no one taught/showed them otherwise. Hence we grew up with scars no one ever saw, wounds no one knew existed, pains buried so deep, it became part of us; and so a part of us lives, fearing we may become our parents; the other part lives in subtle resentment with emotions we can’t talk about. Broken!
We see beautiful pictures and videos of young couples, how they’re raising their families, we tell ourselves, this’ who I’m going to be, this’ what I want for myself, this’ what I’m going to build; but the shattered pieces of our lives we don’t know exists, laughs at our lofty comments. You act the way you do, you think it’s just you, deep down, it’s the broken part of you acting out your insecurities. You lash out, you use brute force, you’re emotionally non-committal, you think that’s it’s the way you’re wired, or its your zodiac sign; fam, you don’t know you’re broken!
Angie Cartwright once said “there’s another family created by grief no one wants to be part of. We’re orphans looking to belong somewhere, anywhere, for a family that understands the language of a broken hearted.” So, you see the man looking for validation however way he can get it, or trying to overcompensate for a perceived lack, or trying to don a persona to fit the image he has in his mind of him or his hero. Broken!
Broken men raise broken sons. The damage, they don’t see at first, but with age, comes the truth about how deep the rot has gone. And so, most men walk into relationships, looking for rehabilitation centers in their partners; but we’ve been taught, a man must first find himself, before he finds his woman, or he’ll damage whatever woman he comes in contact with along the way. In the famous words of Frederick Douglass, “it’s easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” So we either build strong children or suffer the consequences of broken men.
We can’t escape it, we can’t pray it away; we can’t ignore it; we have to walk through it. We have to confront the pain, the source, the root, we’ve got to deal with that past; we’ve got to deal with that pain; it’s there, you just think it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s always mattered, still does, and will always do. To be better men, we’ve got to HEAL. We’ve got to become UNBROKEN!
To cap my thoughts, I’d share the words of the dudes at spotterup:
“The truth is most men are broken at birth and broken even further at childhood and that is an inevitable fact of his existence. Any glimmer of hope in his eyes masks behind it some dark and painful confusion. If he’s got some leanings for a purpose and a bit of fire in his belly he just might light an inferno onto a pathway for others to follow. If he never gets a single ember alighted what little life there is in him will turn into ashes and then his heart into dust. Home and memory are never campgrounds for his escape, instead the answer to the puzzle that puts him together ultimately lies outside of his heredity, and in fact resides deeper and darker down some roads. First he has to accept that his actions have consequences and life will give him some bitter lessons, but if he can learn to work outside of his constant limitations he will learn to outflank struggle, and even come to accept that it isn’t the blood in his veins that defines him instead it is virtue and enterprise.”
To the Kings and Queens out there in pain, may you find the truth, may you confront it, may you heal, may you become better than your predecessors. Your future is counting on you to do so.
To the man in the mirror, HEAL!
