Saying Goodbye to False Peace

Dear False Peace,

I'm writing to let you know that our relationship has run its course. For years, you've been my default companion, my easy choice, my comfortable lie.

You promised protection, but delivered prison. You offered safety, but gave stagnation. You whispered that silence would heal wounds, when all it did was let them fester beneath the surface.

I recognize you now in all your disguises—the swallowed truth, the avoided conversation, the boundary never drawn, the confrontation perpetually postponed. You're the smile that masks the scream, the "I'm fine" that holds back a flood, the nod of agreement when everything within me disagrees.

You made me believe that rocking the boat was the greatest sin, that harmony at all costs was the highest virtue. You convinced me that my voice was less important than the absence of discord.

But I've discovered something: real peace doesn't fear honest turbulence. True peace isn't threatened by necessary storms. Authentic peace is born from weathering conflicts, not avoiding them.

So I'm choosing disruption over suppression. I'm choosing the storm that clears the air over the heaviness before it. I'm choosing my truth, even when it creates waves, over your false calm that slowly drowns me.

This isn't easy—you've been my companion through many seasons. Your familiarity is seductive, your promises tempting. But beyond your comfortable chains lies something worthier: a life where peace isn't purchased with pieces of myself.

I know you'll try to call me back. In moments of conflict or discomfort, your whispers will seem so reasonable, so safe. But I've seen what lies beyond your borders now, and I cannot un-see it.

Thank you for the lessons. Thank you for showing me what peace is not, so I could recognize what it truly is.

No longer yours,

A Free Black Woman