Right to Be Here

Below is a simple piece, a sort of prose poem, that I had jotted about belonging some time ago and forgot about. I recently stumbled on the writing, reread it, and liked it. Rather than keep it tucked away in digital limbo, I figured I would share it. I think anyone who hasn’t felt like they belonged might find some meaning from it.

Here it is:

You arrived, after an unimaginable journey, disoriented and shy and looking wrong for arriving.

You belong here, we said, but, No, you don’t, they said. So we showed them. We showed them your smile, your frown, the way you blush and pale, just like us, but, No, you don’t, they said. We showed them your bruises, your stories of crushing loss, of small gains, made them feel as you had, but No, you don’t, they said. Finally, we stopped showing them. We dressed you. We fed you. We housed you. We connected you to others. And now, when we see them, we don’t even ask, because we already know, You belong here.