Loner

I come from a clan of Loners. Some of my clan have, has, and do presently work at... I say WORK AT... as in seeing good in the lifesyle and working at perfecting the art of being perfectly happy and alone IN A DUSTY CAVE whilst swimming in a sea of humanity... the idea of being totally disconnected from the rest of humanity unless totally necessary.

Members of my Clan have been known to completely ignore blood-related travelers, people they'd once shared a home with for years... when such had traveled far to share their company. Oh, what stories I could tell.

It's a weird thing. Yet, it's beautiful thing. People who don't really need other people? People who are comfortable in our own skin? Weird, objectively.

I think of the pillars of my life... the shoulders I stand on, most now gone: Mama. Loner. Momo. Loner. Aunt Margaret. Loner.

Aunt Frances? A Loner nonpareil, and if she ever reads this I bet she'll bust out laughing. The Quintessential Loner. That marvelous chick never cared less about what you, your momma, or your momma's best friend thought. I mean... Ant Frances don't give a damn. She is supremely secure in her being. Come at her the wrong way the first time you meet her and find out for yourself. Coming up, I trusted her like I did NO OTHER. I'm not the only one who can say that, either. If she's your friend, you'll need very few others in life.

Debbie. Nephew. Connie. Rusty. Vicki. Roddie. Shelly and Stacy, too, are keeping the tradition alive. All Loners to the core. Deon. I don't agree 100% of the time with a single one of my people. We're a bold bunch with opinions hard to budge.

Sometimes I wonder if I was born into this family or if a switch was made at Twin Cities Hospital on Midland where I was born.

In case you didn't already know, I respectfully disagree with boldy expressed opinions on a regular basis. If you've had the privilege you already know why: my Clan is noted for boldly expressed opinions. Coming up, you had to stand up or be walked on. My peeps don't scare me, though. Especially strong Black women like the ones I was raised around. Aunties, mothers, sisters. Strong. Bold. Don't mess with me types. Yep. They don't scare me none. Once you figure them out, they're no different than fuzzy kittens.

We fall out sometimes and sometimes I admit being perfectly happy not speaking to a couple now and forever. But I got major respect for how I was raised. For the people who raised me. And who I grew up with.

Major respect.

What misfits... my folks. What beautiful people. I love 'em ALL. You'd be lucky to meet any single one.