I Remember

I remember running home from elementary school with the fall twigs and leaves stuck in my hair

I was bullied then

Bullied for being too smart too light skinned, too whatever they weren't used to seeing or being

My mom said we were moving to a better neighborhood and we did

No longer in the city those same city kids labeled me privileged

Because I grew up in the suburbs where the kids' faces that lacked melanin actually accepted me

I saw too much as a child and it affected me

But I'm privileged because I didn't spend my better days in the hood where boys trying to be men stood on street corners up to no good

But if privileged meant waking up to the sound of my mother screaming because my stepdad got in his feelings again, I didn't want it

If privileged meant two sprained fingers because I left my rented instrument at school or a busted lip because the ring on his large hand needed a place to land

I didn't want it

Behind those closed doors of my suburban house were filled with abuse that I tried to cover up like pouring ketchup on unseasoned food

Still hard to swallow

The only example I saw of a man was one I wanted nothing to do with

So naturally as I got older, I grew up with fear, insecurity and doubt consumed me

I did things to forget

I remember drinking way too early and way too much

Drowning the pain, entertaining my lusts

Men I couldn't trust so I found comfort in women

Was always a tomboy so I felt like I fit in

I tried to be the man that my father wasn't; I didn't know who I was so it was easy for the devil to steal my identity

And manifest this person who I thought I should be

He stripped away my femininity and told me that I wasn't pretty

Attached a label that read Stud and mailed me off into a land filled with rainbows

Where pride was a yearly celebration and broken people just like me all seemed nice enough so I stayed for very long time

Tried out all kinds of flavors until I figured out my favorite although

Deep down the taste was never quite right

But I desired someone to love me

Someone to set me free, show me the missing piece

I remember

I became comfortable in my skin

Not knowing God was uncomfortable with my sins

Love is love I always said

And I believed that

Kept a bible in my home and a bible in my car

But I would barely read that

Little did I know the Word was protecting me even when I dismissed it

Prayers spoken on my behalf were being listened to

The lessons I learned along the way are what shaped me to this day

And I am no longer feeling a way

Because he opened my eyes to his grace

Like Paul He blinded me for days so that I would seek his face

And rest in his embrace instead of reckless behavior justifying my mistakes

And the end is history, yes, it's my testimony, but for His glory this is HIS story.