The 18th of January 2011 brought the death of my dear & loving father. The death of a part of me that I will never get back. Since then I have been a grieving daughter and every decision, action and consequence thereof has been a rendition of this identity. It is who I have been for the past two years and has taken away who ever I was before his passing. Death has taught me that it is a huge part of living and who we are everyday.
It is the story of my life, but not the end of it. Today, I am still a grieving daughter and will always be because of all that I have lost in my father. However accepting my failures and bad choices as my own doings has made me reborn. Today, I am a grieving daughter, the survivor of my wounds and failures, a strong Black African Xhosa woman with a world of opportunities. Fearless. All because I have unwillingly fought but conquered my greatest fears.
I have learnt the power that lies at the essence of identity. It is the determinant of the path one takes and knowing which path is right for you. This is the key to living.
My identity is everything to me. It is the seat of my struggles and joys. It holds my strength. My endurance. It holds my past, present and future.
Accepting who I am means accepting being human. Once you accept that, you accept that “to err is human”. In that same light that you deserve all the good things that life has to offer: to be happy, to be loved & to love and lastly to be kind and generous to yourself.
I am a strong, Black grieving daughter falling in love with herself all over again. I am the product of two strong and beautiful parents. The product of praying women.
I am the peace from broken pieces.
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