I wonder if some topics are as difficult for everyone as they are for me? Maybe it’s one of those things that if you’ve had enough exposure to something, you become desensitized to it. Maybe the problem is that I haven’t seen enough money – I never grew up that kind of rich.
Money
Money is a topic that hates leaving my lips
I’m not sure if it’s just aware of my immense, ever-growing disdain for it
My son, the only easy one with whom I can discuss
Only because I don’t want him growing with this level of disgust
towards self over not being able to manage the little things –
Money is so small. Money makes people so small.
There is a time in my life when I’d take what wasn’t mine.
When it comes down to it, this is how we all accrue debt – even the times we do it in agreement.
I’d accept what wasn’t mine with the hope that it could be,
that having it meant I earned it.
Anytime I wanted, I didn’t know how to ask
but I’m stubborn and wouldn’t want to have to go without.
This applies to people, to money from my dad’s wallet at 14 years old –
I justified it by spending it on my younger brothers and was grateful for the sense of control.
It applies to food when no one was watching because I already came at a size too big
why should I ask when they’ll just gesture, a silent insistence that I don’t need it?
It applied to the truth when I would riffle through texts, emails, and information that wasn’t mine
I wasn’t always sure what I was looking for but I was so sure there was something I needed to find.
It applied to gentle touch when someone slept – the kind that shows love but that I was too inept
to show during the day, when it needed to be seen, actually felt. You could even say I was stealing those moments – only for myself.
To talk about money, demand my worth –
for me it’s about fairness but will that translate to her?
In a society where money is power, equated with control
it’s intimidating to make it an intimate conversation, more emotional.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 