Consume Me
She sat across from me on a warm and sunny Cleveland day. I looked closely at her, and sometimes I couldn’t tell if I found her to be a handsome girl or a beautiful boy. I watched as she gripped a black ceramic mug; I was instantly drawn to her steady demeanor. Despite the unforgiving heat, I felt calm there, in that tiny coffeehouse patio.
I told her about a silent pain, a feeling that people were taking beyond what I was willing to give. I wasn’t prepared for her response: “You want to share, but you don’t want to be consumed.”
I felt myself choke back tears and gulp. Ouch. What did you just touch?
I wanted to reach for her hand.
It started as a conversation about cultural appropriation. I sit, stuck within these borders, unable to leave without a proper permit. I miss home so much. American citizens can buy cheap flights and consume my culture, explore my home, and take as many resources as they please. I have waited 18 years just to be given permission to travel again.
As we spoke I realized I felt anger, jealousy, and envy even. My instinct was to judge myself for these feelings, but I let myself be human and messy instead. I acknowledged the discomfort; I thanked it for showing me my shadows.
Later that evening, I dreamt of a large human mouth, bloody and still hungry for more flesh. I was the small girl it wanted to eat, but it wasn’t satisfied as it bit into me again.
My brain has been playing with the word “consumption” since.
I don’t think she meant to move those parts of me, to touch a wound I have ignored for so long I forgot it existed. I learned to live with this weight and I don’t know what to do now that someone has named it.
How many times have I felt that I was being consumed, not appreciated?
I still carry shame around boundary setting, all the ways I feel I have failed myself. I think of consent and abuse. I think of all the ways I have rewritten myself for someone’s comfort but not my own.
What am I trying to prove? And whom do I want to prove it to?
If I’m honest, I want to prove that I am worth consuming.
Who convinced me that is what I need to be?
