State of Calm

“Calm, composed, quiet, …”

These words have been attributed to me more times than I can remember

I suppose you would be all of those things after nearly 20 years practice

 

At age 5, I was none of these things

And my cousin’s head met a rock during a brawl

The guilt lasted for a few months

The 11 year old was none of these when she wept for her mother every night

At 14, not being calm or composed meant a fight with my father’s girlfriend

That which denied me the comfort of my best friend for nearly a year

By 16, I was fully committed to being stoic and unfrazzled

 

This commitment went out the window and for that, I missed seeing my grandmother’s face

I forgot to look over at her seat after the car crash, only focused on my hurt and pain

She died a day later and by then, I was in an ideal state of calm

Watching my father and uncles cry themselves clean, I did not shed a tear

I was a rock all the way through the funeral and I cherished this

After all, nobody had the energy to deal if I should fall apart so I didn’t

 

Until my mother told me the lack of tears meant I was not saddened by my gran’s demise

I broke then, but that was another lesson learnt

I learnt then that the flip side of being seen as self collected and calm are words like

“Cold, distant, hard hearted..”

I fortified my walls against them and on my best days

Nothing ever ruffles my calm