By lubayo rose
This letter has been written in parts, between 29th January and 19th April 2026. The story is very rich, with both pain and joy; it warrants pauses here and there. In the pause, i hope you will find sweet relief in the realization that the dreams we all carry within us are the calming balm to the burn these words leave. These Words are for you, You who had to burn so that you may live. May their seed find a home in the softness that you dare to show…
Dear X,
i do not like the fact that i wake up these days and the first thing i think of is what you are planning to do. i like the fact that the energy in motion has been passing through my body with amazing ease and it is getting easier as the days wear on.
The past several months have been so tumultuous, the way you resurface in my life is really draining to us. i am not going to give in to the temptation to fight myself and deny the truth that i am also physically unwell because of the sustained hostility i have to endure from you. my body knows and it forgives me each time i focus on the tunes of the intrusive thoughts that live rent-free in my head. It is not easy resisting, yet, i must. The alternative is a death that is not on my terms, something i liberated myself from when i walked away from you more than one year ago. The self-defeating programs must be muted, and remain muted. these thoughts are not ours—they have been passed down over time until they got to us. i am still trying to figure out just how much of the script has been written by people who resembled me. It definitely is a mixture of content about and by people from my context, who lived before me and the perspectives of foreigners who had varying views as to how my ancestors should have been.
When i contemplate your ways of being and the actions you perform, i am increasingly convinced that you do not move to the beat of your own drum. yet this is an image you never fail to prop up—violently, most of the time. you did not always use your hands to assert your importance. You have a way with words that makes it easy for you to avoid any emotional connection and to deny every opportunity to question why you live your life on other people’s terms. you blame yourself, i bet. Because, tell me, why would you thank me for being brave enough to leave our sham of a relationship, something you said you could not bring yourself to do? Each time i held a mirror to you, you refused to regard yourself with gentleness. How could i therefore expect you to extend the same to me? i represent all your dreams of liberation that you dared not live. we were once aligned in the understanding that the systems of oppression under which Africans live must be opposed and that our lives were the places to mount this daily resistance. the children needed to learn to be free by observing us, the parenting adults, by being the best versions of ourselves.
i now have to contend with the reality that you refuse to recognize my humanity because i remained true to the cause. it makes you so uncomfortable to realize that your authority can be challenged when you are responsible for perpetuating structural violence toward the “weaker sexes and genders.” it irks you even more to see me living and healing out loud as an African bi-plus gender-queer female. i continue to let the truth out in honor of all the love i have for my communities, for i love myself too much to help you erase us. i could never be too late to accept the Universe’s invitation for me to be myself, unapologetically.
Now, all you have left is the rage sitting in your belly, with nowhere to go because you refuse to acknowledge it. i am resisting you in the daily ebb and flow of my life. my courage to show my truth is something you fear because it is a constant reminder that i refused to buy the fear you continuously sold me. the system continues to shield you from the responsibility you have to nurture safety in all the relationships you have with people you have considered inferior to you in one way or another. i continue to move forward with my life knowing that the battle i am carrying is a battle to dismantle the practices that made me vulnerable to your control.
my children deserve the safety of knowing that they can be who they know they are. my children know that they have a home where hope lives and which reminds them that all parts of themselves belong here, at home with us.
i devote myself to meeting you in the fields where you proclaim war on me for being a loving and multi-faceted person. For basically being myself.
yours truly,
lubayo rose
a healing warrior
lubayo rose is an East African bi+ gender-queer feminist practitioner advancing intersectional, community-led African LGBTIQ+ and sex worker organizing across local, national, regional, and global levels. lubayo rose’s creative writing is an act of love for herself, their communities and the planet that houses the continuous struggle for liberation of black folks assigned female at birth.