Self sabotage has a name. It has a shape as well. Beautiful feminine curves, smiling lips and long slender fingers. It has a charming personality that draws so easily. It also comes with a brilliant mind that can think up a storm.
Self sabotage draws in ever so tenderly and effortlessly. It captivates and fascinates. Deeper and deeper it draws, then somewhere waist deep, panic claws.
That’s when the shift begins to occurr. Slow and unnoticeable at first. A little withdrawal here and there. A number of raging mental storms. Emotions are stirred, feelings of inadequacy reign. Insecurities arise. Past ghosts are resurrected.
Then planning begins. How to withdraw. How to run. How to ruin this. Withdrawal proves pointless because self sabotage is being beautifully pursued. There’s no place to run this time because all major spaces are covered. Only one option is left…
Enter hearty conversations. Emotional intimacy is built. Comfort rises, guards are lowered and boundaries fade. A little touch here. Strong arms open to hold. The safety in being held provides security.
Self sabotage is suddenly aware of how things would pan out. A misstep here and there, then everything will be instantly taken away. Self sabotage has some mercy; no need to ruin this one. But then storms rage soon after; mind becomes a battlefield where victory stands no chance.
Experience after experience; mercy is overshadowed. Self sabotage kicks in fully. Meeting of lips is allowed. Hands intertwined. Boundaries are pushed further and further away.
Self sabotage has a bittersweet moment and isn’t sure whether to enjoy this as the beginning of the end or mourn the loss that’s just started. Mixed reactions. Mixed emotions. Self sabotage stares into the pair of eyes that have no clue that this is goodbye.
Regrets flood: why did an innocent heart have to fall prey? Mourning over what could have been. Walls are quickly brought back up. Pushing away is now being done actively. Tears will be shed. Awkward moments might follow. Innumerable questions will be raised.
But all that matters in the end is that self sabotage succeeded… yet again.
Diary of A Loved Black Woman 