Leading With Love and Compassion
This blog is for the individual that desires more of themselves + the people in their lives.
This image impeccably illustrates my life. Uninhabited + varied; yet filled with loads of oxymoron’s coupled with a lot of love. Our life is full of many imperfections; but it just works! I envision somewhere in the near future; we will weep tears of joy witnessing this moment come together. This moment is a flourishing smile from the Universe with an assurance that everything is always working out.
Read MoreI wish I could be surprised at how pervasive hate is distributed daily. How it lingers in dark spaces waiting to dismantle souls and glorify the same fear it unleashes onto innocent human beings. I am convinced that self-deprecation is a substance that people ingest when they desire to make others a target. Somewhere in America an individual is utilizing self- destructive behavior to create the most heinous war on black people that even their mere presence is a battlefield.
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Making life work with you is revolutionary + necessary. Not because we are perfect or that we couldn’t be with someone else that oozes with pulchritudinous splendor, but rather we want to make our love work. Every day I pray for you to keep evolving in this space we are cultivating for both of us to expand. Every day I pray that we work harder on our character than we do on staying. See staying is nothing without the will to be forgiving. Hell, staying is nothing without the capacity to see the worst in someone + say “you good...I promise I got you.” Truth is staying is nothing without the testimony of how we make this work.
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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!
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So here we are stepping into a new season. Somewhere I imagined this day. I even anticipated it. The day your moon would come to claim you as its own. I remember when you looked at me with such uncertainty, hoping that my love never diminished. Praying that this was the moment we empathized with each other because we could now understand the journey we both were taking. Isn’t it miraculous how the Universe climbs into our lap without warning only to swallow our fears and replace them with massive portions of purpose that will only fit in the Creators hands?
Read MoreI have come to realize that the cost of living authentically is expensive because it requires me to take ownership of spaces that typically didn’t welcome my ancestors. It’s requires a responsibility that unravels in every action, word + deed. It requires discipline to stay before the Creator not to confess my limitations but rather to express my upmost gratitude. It also requires a burden that most people don’t desire to carry due to the obligation to ignite others to pick up their mantle + race to accomplish their purpose.
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This moment is essential not because it’s a photo of black women but it’s a snapshot of generations being healed + patterns being broken. When I divorced my kids father I didn’t understand the gravity of witnessing a family being torn apart by epigenetic trauma while trying to balance your truth + your kid’s hearts. It’s complicated!
Read MoreThis relationship started from a simple email sent all the way from Nairobi, Kenya 🇰🇪 from a beautiful light that decided to take a chance on building a friendship. Who knew? Who knew that we would have a mutual affinity for one another? Who knew that as soon as she had a business trip to the states that it was imperative that we share time + space?
Read MoreThis is my mother + we are re-building what it looks like to be in relationship with one another. When you are desperately “over parented” you spend most of your life in conflict with your caregivers/parents realizing that you never had the option to relax. You ingest anxiety in every interaction always wondering who your mother really is + if she ever desired to be her own woman. It has taken all of my mother’s life + mine to come to a place where we both release the weight of our undue expectations regarding the life we wanted. She didn’t have it to give + I don’t think she wanted to because historically black mothers didn’t have the time to extend love. Grief colored the tone of my mother’s voice leaving most interactions virtually impossible.
Read MoreWhen I decided to love you I asked the Creator one thing + that was to sustain our love. To give us back every year that our parents spent separated + divorced due to addiction. I asked for intentional presence that despite every hurdle we drew closer together. Proximity is everything with you! I asked for us to dwell in love + even when it seemed difficult that it would surface in the last place we put it.
Read MoreWhen I see my daughter, I am humbled by her ability to carry the weight of peer pressure + being a middle -schooler like a 4-foot promise. Committed + occasionally drenched in momentary sadness; yet wearing her resilience like a finished sentence. On point + exact! She is everything I wanted to be but never had the space, bygones!
Read MoreLately I have been unraveling fear + dissecting how it has caused a wedge in areas of my life. How it has allowed me to listen to well-meaning individuals that refuse to take their own advice. I am convinced that my life + everything about it was the best thing that could have happened to me. Every. Single. Part. Hiding for years has ignited a power in me that permits me to rise into the woman I am destined to be. Being black + queer is everything despite the weight that comes with the obligation of it. It’s hella complicated!
Read MoreEach day I raise my son, I am reminded that I still need to be mothered from a space of compassion from not seeing many decent men in my life. As I look at my son, I release him from my clutches fully understanding that so many black mothers made their sons their husbands + fathers trying to reclaim the “promise”. It’s complicated! I hug him often reminding him of his greatness rather than subjugating him to my hopes + dreams like the proverbial black mother. .
Read MoreLoving my wife has come out of necessity, the desire to get something right. To succeed at relating to another human being in the most intimate way when you have never seen healthy relationships. When witnessing abusive love coupled with complacent love not to mention toxic love throughout your life you live in a perpetual space of survival. Working to beat the odds for fear of letting down an entire generation. It’s complicated!
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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.
Read MoreWe love deeply because how else do you adore the woman that resembles your past; yet works hard to heal your future. I don’t know how after 15 years, distance, heartbreak, past lovers, mistakes, trauma, children, divorce + everything in between has kept us this in love. They say courting is not for bringing you together; but seeing if life can tear you apart. I would agree 100%! We see each other in ways that our parents didn’t get a chance to because of our father’s addiction. It’s complicated!
Read MoreI seek to love my kids in a way that allows them to understand what love looks like + what love feels like. I am honored to have a boy + a girl but truthfully I am always working on being equitable. Judicial in a way that gives my son a space to be soft + loving. I remember when I was younger watching men objectify women + abuse them. Meanwhile, I have had the luxury of dating amazing men; yet I only have felt safe with women. It’s complicated! .
Read MoreI always wanted to loc my hair but I had to shed so much historical bondage around my hair. I used to get my hair pressed with a straightening comb which eventually lead me to perming my hair; yet it never yielded the response I wanted to feel...free. I dreaded the days that my hair ruled everything I did from working out, swimming, enjoying outdoors + even having sex. It’s complicated! I recall how men responded to my hair when it was straight + long; yet I never felt prettier, sexier, or more desired. Ironically, I felt like a replica of someone that needed to be noticed by people who didn’t matter.
Read MoreWhen growing in love, I have been learning to yield more to the Universe. Allowing the Creator to lead me. I have been learning to forgive quickly because holding grudges interferes with the work I am called to do. I have been surrendering + allowing because love needs room to grow + expand. Especially this love. This love is being cultivated with every exchange, every argument, every disagreement, every misunderstanding, every apology, every intimate moment that reminds us that we are changing an old narrative. A narrative that would like to prove that black love doesn’t exist + if it does, it resides only in movies. So I let love rule!
Read MoreThere are moments in life that seemed very different when I was younger + this is one of them. I imagined 40 to look ancient as I decide whether to wash another load of clothes or fix lunches with inconsequential utensils. I pictured myself being in a rat race most days virtually unrecognizable to myself. I visualized myself in a rut, nestled in marriage trying to dodge the 7-year itch + hanging with people who have amputated parts of themselves just to fit in. I envisioned dragging my children to activities as I listen to random people discuss parts of their life they hate. Then I hit 40 + I realized that this moment is more than I ever dreamed. In fact, at 40 I became more of a woman by allowing my scars to be the fuel to navigate my purpose. Actually, at 40 I fell more in love with myself by loving another human being from a perpetual space of forgiveness. If truth be told, at 40 I acknowledged that I hate cooking, I need intimacy at the same frequency as sex or nothing less + I am so grateful to love what I do every day. As a matter of fact, at 40 I recognized that I enjoy people who reflect goodness a hell of lot more than people who deplete my energy. Honestly, at 40 I liberated my children in a way that set us both free + gave me permission to be a woman. The truth is, at 40 I fell in love with me + the beautiful messy journey that got me to this point. Actually, at 40 I am resolved.
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