COME SIT AT MY TABLE 🪑❤️‍🩹

COME SIT AT MY TABLE 🪑❤️‍🩹

Beloveds,

Come sit at my table.

I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you look like. I don’t care whether your life looks anything like mine. I don’t need you to explain yourself before you pull out the chair.

Just come sit with me.

I know something about sitting alone.

There was a time when I was the child sitting at the lunch table without somebody beside me. I know what it feels like to wonder whether anybody is coming. I know what loneliness can feel like when you’re surrounded by people and somehow still find yourself by yourself.

So I made a choice.

If I am the only person sitting at the table, I will sit there and wait.

Not because I’m ashamed of who I was.

Not because I am still trying to prove something to the people who called me ugly.

I got my beautiful.

I think I’m beautiful now.

And I am moving on with my life.

But moving on doesn’t require me to forget the child who once sat alone. In fact, maybe one of the beautiful things I can do with what hurt me is make sure there is an empty chair beside me for somebody else.

That’s why I stay at the table.

It has nothing to do with race.

Yes, I am a Black woman. And yes, there are things about living in this Black body and moving through this world that are exhausting. There is also tremendous joy here. Both things are true.

But that isn’t what this table is about.

This table is about the person who is alone.

Black.

White.

Brown.

Gay.

Straight.

Believer.

Atheist.

Disabled.

Nondisabled.

Quiet.

Loud.

Certain.

Confused.

Happy.

Hurting.

Somebody who looks like me.

Somebody who doesn’t.

Somebody whose life I understand immediately.

Somebody whose life I may never completely understand.

You don’t have to qualify for the chair.

You don’t have to convince me that your loneliness is lonely enough.

You don’t have to tell me the right story.

You don’t have to believe what I believe before I’ll sit beside you.

You don’t have to become more like me.

And I don’t have to become more like you.

There is no entrance examination at this table.

You’re alone.

There’s a chair.

Come sit with me.

Maybe we talk.

Maybe we laugh.

Maybe we dance.

Maybe we listen to some music.

Maybe we eat our lunch without saying very much at all.

Maybe you tell me something about your world that I couldn’t possibly have known unless you trusted me enough to let me see it.

And maybe I do the same.

We don’t have to fix one another.

We can simply refuse to leave one another alone.

That matters to me because I remember.

I remember the little girl who was called ugly.

I remember being alone.

And I cannot go backward and put somebody beside that little girl.

But today?

Today I can leave a chair open.

And tomorrow I can do it again.

Maybe somebody who sits with me today will notice somebody standing alone tomorrow.

Maybe they’ll pull out another chair.

Maybe that’s how a table gets longer.

Maybe that’s how loneliness loses a little ground.

Maybe that’s one way we love the world.

So, Beloved, if you’ve been standing there wondering where you’re supposed to sit:

Here.

Sit here.

You don’t have to audition.

You don’t have to qualify.

You don’t have to prove that you belong.

I saved you a seat.

Come sit at my table.

Come sit with me.

You don’t have to eat alone. 🪑❤️‍🩹🫂

Asking for A Friend,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!