I Never Knew My Family (Or Myself)

The "Atlanta" Edition

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Updating a post from earlier this year because these same feelings are on my heart today. But also, I’m supposed to move out of Ohio on Monday if I can make $6,000 appear outta thin air.

Baby, I am so tired.

This post came to mind today because I was thinking about how I truly had no clue who these people were. Instead, I knew the versions of them created by generational trauma.

Then I realized that I don’t know who I am either.

The pictures above?

There isn’t a genuine smile in the bunch - except Vicki and Desi.

That’s depressing as fuck.

As for myself, who am I when my basic human needs are cared for on a consistent basis? What kind of friend, partner or creative am I when every ounce of my energy isn’t focused on trying to survive poverty?

In five decades of life I’ve never met a version of Robin who was ok.

My Mom was incredible. Every now and then I’d catch a glimmer of who she was meant to be. And yet, she spent the majority of her life with men that didn’t deserve her, working jobs she hated to scrape by and stuck with a kid she never wanted. Can you imagine her life if she had been raised in a society (and by parents) who instilled how deeply worthy and valued she was? I wonder who she would have been? I wonder what type of parent she would have been, or if she would have even been a parent?

That’s why I was grateful when she died. I miss my Mama every damn day but she was miserable here. That was hard to watch as a kid.

As for her sister, Vicki was gentle and loving. She was deprived of oxygen at birth. As a result, she had the mental capacity of a 5-7 year old. She only knew how to be herself. Living in trauma and the harshness of life didn’t phase her. Instead, she was an enthusiastic football fan, regularly toured the local news studios and spent the majority of her days with her best friend Desi.

Vicki died about 5 years back. I hadn’t been in contact with her for a while because my own life was on fire and I didn’t have the emotional space to sustain the relationship. Admitting that makes me feel like a piece of trash because what do you mean you don’t have time for family, you horrible human?!

I feel brutal shame at my inability to nurture meaningful relationships. There are people in my world who I adore but I can’t reach out at the moment - I am deeply empty.

I hate myself for it.

Another relationship I wasn’t able to sustain was with my cousin Skip, he was like my brother. Skip passed away earlier this year. I found out when he randomly crossed my mind and I Googled his name. We hadn’t been in contact for decades because, please see above. Skip was another amazing human. But like my Mama, his life was bleak and harsh.

There isn’t anyone in my immediate family who has ever thrived in life.

We’ve held on.

We’ve sucked it up.

We’ve made the best of it.

But deeply and genuinely enjoyed our lives? Never. That breaks heart.

I’ve been trying to move to Mexico for the past three years because I am determined to know what happiness feels like before I die.

Unfortunately, I’m a poor and have been stuck in trash ass Ohio where the violence of whiteness is slowly killing me on a daily basis. Last week I drove to Atlanta to visit the place that may offer temporary respite before I’m able to escape this country.

And while ATL has issues as well (Cop city, Bio Lab, etc..), I felt my nervous system relax there.

The cost of living is higher and I’ll have to work even harder to not drown. However, the emotional and physical price I’m currently paying is waaaay more than any amount of money this “harm reduction” move will cost. I can always make more paper. What I can’t do is reverse the impact that chronic stress has taken on my body and spirit.

Anywhoo, lemme wrap this up since I have 48 hours to find $6,000 and pack up my life. Why am I like this?

What did you say, how can you offer support? That’s really kind. Thanks for asking.

To start, your girl needs funds to make this happen.

I have multiple ideas about how to build a financially stable life in the year ahead. Mutual Aid resources for Patreon, new Black Business Guide, my book about poverty and how much it sucks…

But first, I have to get myself out of this burning house. I need a place to rest and restore before I can start to build a secure foundation.

Direct funds are incredibly helpful as time is tight. And please, please hear me when I say that every amount makes a difference. That’s the power of collective community care.

Venmo: @ divinerobin

Cashapp: $divinerobin

Paypal: practicecommunitycare@gmail.com

As always you can send a cuppa care via Buy Me a Coffee.

You can also purchase my Black Black Business Guides with over 500+ brands! This doesn’t get money to me as quickly but trust, it helps as well.

I’m unclear if I can do this but dammit, I refuse to quit. This isn’t just about me - it’s for my Mama, for Skip and every relative in my lineage who deserved so much damn better from life.

Here’s hoping my next update will be from Atlanta. (After a really long rest.)