Late to this Party

Song's pursuit of Freedom.

There’s a deflating weight to accepting the normalcy of abuse.

I still don’t know how to fully alchemize the abuse I’m desperate to be Free of, but what has kept me alive is my longest held belief that something good can come of my abuse. The possibility that my experience can be a bridge between the theoretical and the practical when we sing: the true North, strong and Free.

When I wrote Late to This Party, I had just clawed my way to what I thought was Freedom, finally separated from my abuser and moving toward healed wholeness. But reality hit hard as I began to experience the economic impact of the abuse I was trying to escape. Desperate not to go back, I began cleaning toilets again. It was joyful sacrifice because for the first time, I was working not for my abuser’s gain but for my wholeness and a legacy free of the generational chains of abuse. I poured myself into my first full-length music project, running on fumes after long days of cleaning and nights of spin training. I was exhausted, but the most Free I had ever felt.

Writing my EP, 17times, while training to become a spin instructor was where my love for music met a physical embodiment of strength beyond fear. Hard work wasn’t a burden when it was for Freedom. As words of affirmation spilled out - my love letters to my spin classes, to those who came to my shows - I realized I wasn’t the disposable vessel my abuser made me out to be. I wasn’t only worthy when being of service or being used. I, too, deserved wholeness.

As my awakening deepened, I began to see how deeply I had internalized and accepted the lie that my abuser’s shackles were love.

If survival meant returning to my abuser, could I protect the beginnings of wholeness I had nurtured while away from him? That is at the centre of 17times.

The small glimpses of whole humanness began to reveal: it was never acceptable for my abuser to advise me to pull up by bootstraps frayed to threads, while entitling themselves to life’s joys and pleasures fully supported. It is not acceptable to be hemorrhaging from growing uterine masses for 89 days straight as my abuser vacations.

Late to This Party is a warning I pray never becomes prophecy.

As the impact of my abuser’s cruelty stretches from my past into my present and future, I am fighting desperately not to be erased. I don’t want to be another name mourned with “gone too soon” as apathetic spectators and agents of the law witness abuse, moving on with their unaffected lives. Another inconvenient life gone, insignificantly.

I’m still here. Waving a flag. Begging not to be invisible.

Please, don’t be late to this party.

Practically Speaking, Support.

Thank you for your practical and meaningful support toward my Freedom.

If you are able, please consider:

🙏🏾 Donating to my GoFundMe

🙏🏾 Sending your contacts for safe legal advocates, lawyers, or experts via Email

🙏🏾 Sharing this newsletter to increase its reach toward safe legal advocates

🙏🏾 Supporting by streaming, and sharing 17times

In Gratitude and Freedom,

Kaeyae Alo

✨ Dedicated to Tuku and Gogo Mary

*THIS IS NOT LEGAL ADVICE

#PracticallySpeakingFreedom