I held their emotions in my belly—
the tribe’s keeper of secrets and feelings.

They poured into me what they never wanted to acknowledge
and turned away to forget it all.

I held sturdy and steadfast.
I learned to process the denser emotions,
mistakenly claiming them as my own responsibility and task.

When I had her, my tummy was sliced open,
and she was gently, quickly pulled free of my womb.

I died and came back different.
I had seen and heard things others couldn’t.

That liminal hello and goodbye stitched me up right.

My vessel no longer commissionable to holding anything I don’t choose.
She took up the right space in me,
and then gave it back.
I learned Divine Reciprocity.

And I learned how to own holding myself
in the places I once held for others.

Note:
My little one turns one year old today.
She is the love of my life,
the small teacher who remade me.

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