it might be that you were caught in a life that you didn’t ask for, that they told you this was it—this was all you could ever hope for, that others were better, were holy, were the right colour, the right gender, the right race, the right religion.
the right ‘something’ is not what you were, and the words were like stuffing in your young throat, and the whispers, and the looks, and the always-being-excluded.
and shame being so heavy, and difficult to let go of, almost like leaving your own name behind.

oh, may i give you some words?

you are not a mistake.
you are not a mistake.
you are not a mistake.

you are light and you are a miracle, and if you ever need to consider the magnitude of your presence, know that of all the billions of soft bodies that walk the earth, there is nobody like you.

know that it doesn’t matter what words you were conceived into, what kitchen-prophecies you were born into—none of those words carry more power than the ones in your own mouth.

if you don’t know how, then here, allow me to plant some seeds…let’s get you started with a few, say it with me, say it every day, sing yourself to sleep with this very first one:

i am not a mistake.

© Liezel Graham 2023

{📷 a mantra unfolding on soft fabric}

if researching my ancestry has allowed me one thing, it is uncovering family secrets.

and things that need to be kept secret are always heavy.

and very often secrets fall onto the littlest mammals, and onto the softness of their mother’s bodies, and many mothers don’t ever get to stand up straight underneath this, and many babies carry shame in their bones for the rest of their lives, and sometimes it is a second mouth on their face.

and really, this is all i have to give, but i hope it fits well.

you are not a mistake.

liezel