Langston hughes wrote a poem that likened life to a river–deep in some spots, shallow in others. I believe we all can find one way or another to liken our lives up to now as a river. We all have ups and downs and calm moments and wild ones. I personally have had a long winding river of a life that is nothing short of beautiful because it is my story.
The mouth of my river starts at the mountain that is my mother. I liken her to a mountain because she is strong and majestic. She is regal, and she is valued for all of her resources. Her being such allows the water that is my river to soak up her minerals and become clean on her rocks. My river starts out slow and thin because for so long it was difficult for me to understand to be able to practice things like honesty and integrity. As I started to grow and learn what it was to become a strong empowered womyn, my river began to flow stronger wider and deeper.
As I grew, the waters became deeper because of the difficult problems I faced. I had to deal with things like peer pressure, abuse from classmates and self-hatred. I hated being light skinned. I hated being poorer than other kids and I hated the high expectations people had for me. The more I hated my life, the more the waters of my river raged. Rocks suddenly appeared where there had been none before. I started failing classes, smoking cigarettes and letting hatred for all things grow in my heart. The waters of my river grew frigid. They also became so deep you wouldn’t see any reflection of the woman God wanted me to be in its blue black waters. Eventually, all of these things culminated into a very large and destructive waterfall. Thankfully, at the end of every waterfall is a glade of beautiful plants with calmer, more inviting waters. Such is the story of my river.
After I hit bottom, I came to a place in life which became more about loving and living life as a strong woman that did what was right even when no one was looking. My life began to more than clothes, money or men. The waters of my river are still deep but became clear and cool. With that change, I could then see these waters, my waters, as pleasant and refreshing. My river reflects the sun that God has put into my heart and soul.
My river is mystic.
The waters of my river have depths that reflect the woman I am and not the woman frivolity would want me to be. The waters of my river are ever moving and ever changing as I grow and learn. But the one thing that my river is not, is dry.
I will never fall in to a stereotypical role. I will never settle for less than what or whom I deserve. I will never stop fighting for those that can not fight for themselves. My river, my life, will leave behind nothing but a kind of greatness that has only been dreamed of because I refuse to be anything other than someone that brings water to those that are thirsty.