April is weird. 8 years ago, I was having one of the worst experiences of my life. Today, I’m not being terrorised and gaslit by my university’s administration, nor having my faith in justice for sexual violence shattered. I’m in just in bed, resting.
I think there’s a survivor’s guilt in being here, or at least a desire to not abandon 2016-me, 2016-us. I try to let 2016-me know that I won’t abandon her or her cause, while also giving her the life she fought for/was crushed for fighting for.
I’m explaining to both of us that we must enjoy what can be enjoyed and that we don’t have to always return to the wound. The wound will not heal, but it doesn’t have to rule over us forever. Every one of us deserves to move on. Joy is not abandonment.
Mary Oliver advises, “If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be.”
We know the prolonged destruction that was #RhodesWar so intimately, we should get to know joy with equal fluency.
gorata chengeta 