Mia Mingus and Stacey Milbern are two queer disabled diasporic Korean women of color in the process moving from the South to the Bay to create home and community with each other.
This tumblr documents their journey. For more info about Mia, visit her blog at nothing left to tell
Dear Stacey,
“Neither of us have anything to tell. I, because I conceal nothing, and you, because you communicate nothing.” -Marianne Dashwood
What happens when we continually hurt each other? What happens when we don’t do what we say we will do? What do we wish for our daughters? What do we wish for ourselves and other women of color? And why don’t we give each other that?
I know change is hard, believe me, I know. I know transformation is incredibly painful and takes time. But what about the person who was harmed? Do we just sit around for the 5, 10, 30 years it takes for someone to change? Isn’t there action that we want to request and demand of people who cause harm in the moment and shortly after to make amends, be accountable, to take some responsibility for collective healing? What good is all of our big, lofty, ambitious language and theory about accountability and conflict and showing-up if we can’t even do it with the people we supposedly love?
And honestly, I don’t feel loved. I know you say you love me, but I don’t feel it. I see you making intentional time for so many other people and yet you haven’t even initiated a conversation with me about our relationship since you told me you wanted to live alone. You said nothing, not a word, after I poured my heart out to you 2 weeks ago and you haven’t said anything to me about it since. Do you know what it feels like to say the most important things in your heart to one of the most important people in your life and have them say nothing? I am so over it.
I feel like I am a burden (funny saying that from one crip to another, eh?) to you and if only I wasn’t around in your life to remind you of what happened, of what you did, things would be so much easier and you could just forget about it all. Then you could just avoid the whole thing and never have to deal with it and move on like nothing happened. Then you wouldn’t have to figure out how to rebuild trust and our relationship. I can feel you avoiding me/us and it feels horrible. On the other side of your frozenness is me, waiting and feeling alone, forgotten and invisible. Our trauma is deep and painful, no doubt, but it also impacts other people.
i can’t keep doing this with you. do you even listen to me?
“ I feel very depleted these days with you, like I have given so much and am just waiting. Waiting for you… Waiting for you to reach out—anything—instead of hiding and running. Waiting for you to risk, for you to stretch, for you to gamble on being present. Waiting for you to be who you said you would be to me, to yourself, to us.“ -Oct. 5, 2011.
“I don’t want to be someone you take for granted. I know too many people—especially queer (femme/feminine) women of color—who are in relationships where they are not being treated well, not being respected, not being cared for. I don’t want to be yet another woman of color pulling the weight of an entire relationship. I want more.” -Oct. 19, 2011.
“what are we willing to risk for the world we desire? What are we willing to risk for the values we say we are committed to? Because our dreams are going to take a lot more than smart analysis. Our dreams will require us to feel and to mess up and make mistakes and, most importantly, learn. Risk means we are afraid, and actually, that we get used to being afraid... If your heart isn’t beating out of your chest, your voice shaking, palms sweating; if you aren’t sure you should turn back and give up, then you aren’t risking. Love and liberation require us to risk; they deserve us to. ” -Nov. 11, 2011.
It’s been almost a year. 11 months, to be exact, and there is nothing left to tell.
mia
