Kintsugi

When pottery breaks, it can be fixed; some even say the final product’s beauty far outweighs the original.

Held together, with gold highlighting these pottery scars.

Something from nothing, was a story that followed me like the blanket that followed the boy, fixed and mended, growing from a blanket, to a hat, to a button, growing together.

I value this mindset.

And so all my life I tried to fix people, like I did with objects.

I expected that a dash of creativity, the right words strung together — might change someone.

Might protect me for real, if I did it right.

Sadly, it took me decades, it took me 99% of this life, to learn that unlike objects you cannot fix people.

You can create the space and environment in which it’s easier to make change, to develop new habits.

But you cannot fix someone, unless they are a willing participant.

I cannot fix my abusive mother no matter how much my father insists that it is my duty to stop her violence.

I can only fix myself to put together the shards that have shattered as she repeatedly smashed my dream to smithereens.

My dream to be safe.

I can only offer up the space and environment the boundaries, expectations to guide her behaviours, but only if I feel safe.

I am a fixer.

I am a good fixer.

And I fix and upcycle objects; I mend myself.

That is the line.

This poem was inspired by a few things.

First, the concept of Kintsugi, where golden resin is used to mend pottery. First and a half, the concept of upcycling old materials destined for the trash into functional, beautiful day to day items. I value

Second, thank you to Jay Avery for his poem on Kintsugi.

Finally, to IU’s song “Bbibbi”, a song about boundaries. The concept of boundaries has changed my life in terms of managing previously ongoing abuse. Thank you to IU, who has grown with me across the decades.

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