I know who I’m becoming.
I know who I am.
I’m writing this because I want you to understand how I feel and why.
I’ve spent years chasing peace, not perfection.
Not what I want, but what I need to stay whole.
And every time I fight for it,
You find a way to undo it.
To unravel the quilt, I stitched together with trembling hands.
You keep reaching for the version of me
that existed yesterday,
or the day before.
But she’s gone.
She had to go
so I could become this—
this woman who knows her worth,
Who knows her blessing is not a fluke,
but a birthright.
It breaks my heart
that you’ll never meet her.
Not really.
Because you’re too busy holding onto ghosts
while I’m here,
living.
I feel like you’ve blocked my blessings for years.
And now that I’m close—so close—
to stepping into something sacred,
I still feel your resistance.
I don’t know why.
I don’t care to know.
I want my blessing.
And I want you to know
that I’m claiming it anyway.
By: Ms. Butterfly Genesis
The Memoir Of Ms. Butterfly 