a love letter to beautiful souls

can we take a moment of silence? of peace. for the most beautiful souls trapped in stressed-out bodies? walking rays of sunshine with competing storms. haunted by wounds that shape her very existence. Some fight to stay. Some lose the battle. & some souls fly high while their bodies stay here on earth. with us, but their souls jumped ship.

these women have been my favorite women to exist. they are a daily reminder of how cruel the world can be to the most beautiful women. who were once girls. souls. to thrive as a woman with god’s covering. without. protection. is an existence with a short expiration date.

i’m writing this because of my friend.

i met her 11 years ago & it felt like i met myself in another body. Kindred spirits, if you will. Her spirit lit up a room. heart of pure gold with the love of god running through her blood. walking sunshine with glitter trailing behind her. for you. & anyone else who needs it.

throughout the years, we developed a beautiful sisterhood. not a friendship. the long distance was real, but the links up were magical. & as the years went past, the past caught up.

the most beautiful spirits i know, built love brick by brick because they saw the cruelness of the world. early. when you have an intimate relationship with violence as a child. you either become it or you birth love. & that love was their saving grace. so they gave it love freely. because they know the emptiness of life without it.

my friend was from the bay area, california. a place where pimping never needed a resurrection because it never died. & those victimized girls became mothers. my dear friend was a daughter of that culture. because of that, she went to foster care at a young age. & stability never knew her name. but she fought for herself. she chased dreams. she loved with all of her heart because it was someone she didn’t know. she became love wrapped in pure gold. & she held on to her virginity like it was her most prized possession. I never knew if someone took it away early. i can only guess. But I know she never gave it away. She held onto her purse like her life depended on it.

but i remember when she started to crumble. when the cracks of her past leaked through, like water seeping from a burst pipe. pavement broke beneath her feet when she was raped. she was never the same again. The woman she had birthed herself to be. died.

because one thing about predators is this: they see the same light in them that we do. but instead of protecting it, they take it. some steal it in an instant & are more subtle, chipping away at a soul within the confines of a relationship. siphoning her for years.

i haven’t spoken to my friend in over a year. she went missing. her beautiful spirit returned to her body long enough to remember the weight of her past, the presence, the trauma, the violence that always lived within her. And it took her love away. It took her away. A mental illness crept in and stole her sunshine.

& i love you, girl. i miss you. I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re alive. I’ve called her family. I’ve called her friends. I don’t know what happened to her. no one does.

But if there’s one thing I know intimately about women like her, it’s this:
Sometimes we try so hard to save the world that we forget to save ourselves. And we always end up paying the price for that.

So the next time you see a woman with a beautiful soul, pray she has protection. Because the love she gives so freely was born from a place where love never existed.

Women like that are my mother.
My grandmother.
My friend.
Myself.