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When I grow up, I want to be an e-scooter princess 👸🏾🛴
I can’t go outside without supervision ’til i’m 15, or without good reason ’til I live on my own. My sister’s presence is a commonplace, but we don’t always get along. Everyone else is startling.
I listen to my mother worry over the news, over the big city, over the latest shooting. At school, kids talk about hanging out and then running home because of gunshots. I hear some of them laughing and I’m in class with no concept of how that feels. Do they sound scared, or am I?
At church, mom scolds me for giving them $1 to get me snacks from the store; tells me to never allow favors lest trouble find them on the way, ’cause then that would be part my fault. I’ve never forgotten to worry over the consequences of kindness.
I’ve grown overly aware of the ways my choices may affect other lives, and tired of the challenge to find freedom amid fear. Ingrained in my mind, amassed in my bones, birthed across generations of folks, trauma doesn’t die. It persists in futurity, demanding to grieved and reconciled.
What’s fun for others requires, for me, unlearning. I bound to swim or to ride a bike in traffic or to trust myself behind the wheels of an automated vehicle, and my body reminds me of the fear of decay, the way it has stained my development.
I recognize my limits and I find myself now, leaning into your body, observing the hardness and softness of your form. Nestling against the bulges and curves that give shape to the person I love. I allow myself to be a little princess. I will myself not to worry about what may happen to you because of me, and I trust that you know how to react in the face of fear.
Perched on the front of our scooter wrists angled awkwardly, willing myself to hold on to anything but the throttle. Though we’re going all but 15 miles fast, even slower uphill, I’ve got a grin plastered across my terrified face watching all the people flying past smiling the same, thinking how glad I am to have someone who will go slow with me, who knows this is daring.
I consider that you may have loved other girls who aren’t restrained by fear, but now you care for me and your tenderness tells me this isn’t a choice made for lack of other options. You love me despite my limits, despite my naïveté.
I even imagine by the end of our ride, that I could venture on my own; laugh with a sense of lightness and race death in stride.
