Healing + Re-Mothering Myself

May 10, 2021 by Ikeranda Smith in black mothers, co-mothering, Inner child healing, motherhood, relationships, women's rights

My mother was a complicated woman. Layered with the stench of a childhood that led her to never want kids. I am a product of that. I know it, she knows it + we have unpacked it several times over. I recall my introduction into the world way before I became Ikeranda because it is important to understand your birth story + how you even came to be. My story is hinged off my mother’s intention to never have kids. My father wanted kids, particularly a girl, so despite him leaving his intention brought me earthside. I am grateful for this narrative because it gives me a reference point + why re-mothering myself is so essential to my healing.

Making Room For Growth

December 28, 2020 by Ikeranda Smith in black, black mothers, LGBTQIA, love, personal growth

To be a woman that is unequivocally sure of herself you must be firm + reserve only the tender parts of yourself for people who have earned the right to benefit from it. The truth is to be a black, queer, woman you must learn quickly that you must walk quiet with a big stick. You can’t leave anything on the table not even a possibility for an opportunity. You must be prepared to walk away from friends + family at any moment; especially if they are interfering with the woman you are becoming. Its complicated! You must push your children to grow up + not lean to hard on you unless you give way to their desires + ultimately forget about yours. You must love your spouse with your whole heart + refuse to allow fear to keep you from committing + forgiving. God damn is it complicated!

Generations

December 06, 2019 by Ikeranda Smith in black, black mothers, children, history, life, love, parenting, people of color, relationships

This moment is healing in motion striving to overcome the absence of women that put strained obligations of family + career before their children. Bygones! These smiles are therapeutic chandeliers that we are now beginning to hang in lieu of carrying the burdens of unmet needs of endless generations. These emotions are amplified from years of suppressing joy due to abusive lovers, absent parents, neglectful grandparents, Jim Crow, share cropping + clandestine meetings shared between broken adults recycling trauma. It’s complicated! Being black is complicated!

Happiness

December 06, 2019 by Ikeranda Smith in black, life, love, people of color, purpose, queer, relationships, spirituality, black female doctors

Lately I have been cultivating love in a new way + taking time to do the things I love. I live in my head as a way to stay unwaveringly grounded. Being unapologetically queer+ black with an understanding of all the things that my parents, parents, parents endured can be extremely heady. It’s complicated! So I work hard to dismantle the parts of my lineage that tend to trip me up.

Looking For The Door

April 09, 2019 by Ikeranda Smith in black, education, history, LGBTQIA, life, love, loveislove, marriage, motherhood, parenting, people of color, personal growth, purpose, queer, relationships, spirituality, women of color

I have been searching diligently, quietly summoning every ancestor while chasing my purpose fully understanding that the Creator + I are in a deep covenant. I question every intention, every motivation, ensuring that my will is put in check + that my ego is buried. I die to myself daily debating my choices, scrutinizing every word that falls from my lips. Why? Because I know that I am responsible for everyone that comes across my path. I am crystal clear about many things in my life, but some things are extremely blurry; terrifyingly unclear to the point that I am often left humbled to a whisper. Often crouched in a corner with tears streaming, staring aimlessly at my plans hoping they align with the Most High.

To Be Black

February 01, 2019 by Ikeranda Smith in black, history, LGBTQIA, life, love, personal growth, queer, relationships, women of color

The weight of my skin wakes me up every single morning. I am jolted by the day begging me to be quieter + less black. I crawl out of bed pulling the hopes of my ancestors from under years of self-degradation praying that my parent’s trauma doesn’t trip me up today. Trusting that my vernacular is articulate enough to get your attention because most days I am injured by the explanations; bruised by the shape-shifting + code switching. Transforming to fit into something worthy of being acceptable + magnificent. Grasping the understanding that we wouldn’t return or recover. Reminded that being glorious is dangerous, especially when you are black. Warriors must walk lightly taking into consideration their gifts as well as their frailties. We hail from things that are fascinating, but up close can be misconstrued as ice sculptures; gorgeous + emotionless.

The Man Behind My Name

October 17, 2018 by Ikeranda Smith in life, parenting, personal development, personal growth, relationships, women of color, queer

My father is a strong man. Yet, when I was younger he wasn’t tough enough to stay faithful, or solid enough to be present, not even sturdy enough to be drug-free, and definitely not robust enough to not be physically and verbally abusive. I believe that you have to fully understand a person in order to see the good in them (trust me, I am going somewhere with this). I don’t believe in making excuses for people because some things are just unacceptable! However, clarity is a powerful thing when coupled with understanding.