Yup! It’s my birthday, and instead of celebrating with friends, I am houseless, I have faith that I won’t be forever though you see. I am in a phase of transition, it’s as uncomfortable as it gets. I don’t have my own space, I don’t have my own place, and I am absolutely not where I thought I would be at 40 years old.
Turns out many of the people who told me I wouldn’t succeed were right, or at least half right. I haven’t succeeded yet, I haven’t found the key to success and wealth and fame, and gorgeous lives, yet. But I’m more than halfway there.
These past 40 years have been fucking difficult, and I’ve done my fair share of whining and complaining, I am not saying that’s going to change, but what I am saying is that at least I understand my purpose a little more now.
Each and every day of this life has brought about new changes and evolutions I swore I wasn’t ready for at the time, and I wasn’t. I always just start to feel safe and comfortable and the world turns upside down and I have to start all over again, it’s very frustrating my loves.
But I think I got it this time. I have the world’s best friends in Savannah Worley and Nada Chehade, through this whole process they have been there for me, supporting me, loving me, reading my work, writing the forward to my new book, and just genuinely being what friends are supposed to be.
They are teaching me to live life with more grace, more kindness, and with more splendor than I thought possible, and they are giving me hope that things are going to get better.
Each of us is living with our own variety of shit storms and yet each of us has a ton of faith that things are going to get better. We are strong because we lean on each other and I’ve honestly never had that in my entire life. So thank you for being a part of my journey and showing me what true friendship is about.
I have a whole world of support from the Writers and Editors of Color collective, which is an amazing group of writers and editors from all around the globe, all different races, creeds, nationalities, sizes, and orientations. It is pretty fucking cool that I get to say “I’m with them.”
My mom is with me, which is even harder. I wanted by this point to be able to give her the keys to her own home, I wanted to tell her that life gets better when you get older by being the one to show her how much that can be true. I haven’t done that yet, but I will. Before my mom dies she’ll have her own house again, she deserves that and so much more.
I wanted my family to be closer, if not in distance, then in connection. I wanted us to be able to afford to travel together, but here’s the problem with all these wants. I’ve never said them out loud before. I’ve always been too afraid to vocally claim them because I’m afraid that I don’t deserve to want these elements to be a part of my life.
I’m realizing when you want something you have to claim it with your whole chest and live as if it’s already yours, Shane said that before he sexually abused me, which gave his words less merit, even though they are true words.
Sometimes you learn a lot from your abusers, even if they are awful human beings who don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. Remember that, because every abuser teaches you how to survive the next.
So much has changed in the last five or six years since I started this website, and I have to believe that it’s all for the best or I am literally going to go crazy and I won’t come back this time.
I’m tired. I just want a place to rest my head that’s mine that no one can take away from me, a place where I am safe from the darkness and shadow men, and a place where I can actually thrive instead of just survive.
This is what I want for my birthday. Am I asking too much?
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall
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