Dear History/Past/Demons,

 

I wish I could go back and change what’s happened. I wish I could change history. America’s ugly, brutal, nasty history.  I could whine all day about what injustice has occurred.

I wish I could change my history.

I wish I could go back and change things I’ve done. Or not done. I wish I had known better.

 

I wish when my niece was watching a little kids show featuring a little black girl and said “why is her skin brown?” with a look of confusion on her face, that I had told her people are different, and different is beautiful.  I should have explained that people have different skin tones and hair types and body shapes and race everything really. But I sat there, at 10 years old, and let her mom tell her to “be quiet and don’t ask questions like that” and my niece was never told what she should have been told in that moment.

I should have been there more for her, in lieu of her absent father and mother. I wish I could have been a better role model for her, and taught her to be tolerant and mindful and accepting. But now she lives 4 hours away with a new father, and the same mother who won’t answer all the questions my niece has for the world.

I wish I had answered her question, a question coming from an innocent 5 year old. I should have explained. But I didn’t, and I wish I did.

 

I wish I had parents who showed love in normal, healthy ways, but they didn’t.

I wish my father’s parents hadn’t died so young.  I wish my father’s brother, his best friend, hadn’t died from cancer.

 

I wish my mother’s parents had shown her love. I wish her father hadn’t been a drug addicted abuser. I wish it hadn’t happened to her, and that she could be happier.

 

I wish my parents hadn’t divorced. I wish my parents hadn’t cheated on eachother, and that they hadn’t gotten married because it was the “right” thing to do, back in their day. I wish they could have been amicable post divorce. I wish my mom would find a man who loves her and cares her the way that I do and more. I wish my father luck in his new marriage.

 

I wish my parents had taught me to forgive. I’m working on it though, I promise.

I wish I was happier, that I was born creating all the correct hormones and molecules in my brain that makes a normal, happy person. I wish I could take back all the anti-depressants, anti-anxiety pills, and countless hours of counseling. All of those self help books, and time spent torturing myself at the gym, in a desperate search for endorphins and distraction from the internal pain.

 

I wish I didn’t drink all those drinks that burn going down but make the night and pain go away. I wish I hadn’t let that boy that made me feel unworthy of love into my heart.

 

I wish I hadn’t let the world make me so sad and nervous. I wish I didn’t whine so much. I whine because I’m always wishing. But I’m trying not to, and I’ll get there one day.

 

I wish I could go back and change it all.

Some things I cannot change. Like my history. Our history. But I am eternally grateful for everything, the good and the bad, even if I’m always wishing it away. I am grateful for all of this, because it has led to this moment. Me, sitting in front of all my peers, me, sitting in front of my talented, beautiful, mature, and compassionate peers.

 

I wish to go back and change my past some days, even if I am grateful for it. But I cannot.

Now I wish to change my future. I wish for myself growth, forgiveness, and to stop whining so damn much.

 

We cannot change our past, no matter how hard we wish. What can we do about it?

We can stop. But we cannot let it stop us from being happy, or doing what we love. Everyone deserves a shot at happiness. We have to move on, even when it feels impossible. We have to teach, talk, and listen to our history, as to not repeat our mistakes again.