Leading With Love and Compassion
This blog is for the individual that desires more of themselves + the people in their lives.
Making relationships work with another human being comes at a high price especially when you are trying to do something you have never witnessed. Partnerships are messy, raising children can be complicated + loving yourself in the process of unpacking another individual’s trauma can bring about a whole new set of challenges. I am convinced that Spirit had a sense of humor when they constructed the beautiful idea of connecting with another individual.
Read MoreWhen I look at you I am reminded of all the petitions I have asked of the Creator. You + I are so non-traditional; yet we are anchored in love. Not the adoration that is whimsical drenched in false narratives. Not the admiration that lives for the surface dynamics with massive amounts of sex without substance. We aren’t even the appreciation that only speaks of the good because those of us that are really breaking generational trauma fully understand that love is far from cliché + if you are making it work you are doing everything different than what your family did.
Read MoreWe have known each other for years, but we learn more about one another daily. Raising children while raising ourselves + nurturing our union has been quite a juggling act. We have recognized that our union is always the focus. We must stay together + model healthy love not just for us but for other black queer couples. Falling in love with a fallacy is the demise of black families because we fail for an image that we never created. So we are all trying to make peace with a narrative that escaped the ship when the rest of our ancestors did.
Read MoreMaking 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?
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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 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 MoreLately 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 MoreLately I have been leaning into life in such a way that has been keeping me prostrate with my heart open. I cannot recall seeing gentle women in my life because they often carried the weight of unrequited love; heavy with deceitful longings. Frustrated at the thought of giving themselves over to another person or having to carry the burden of raising children alone. I have become the remnants of delicate flesh yearning to heal from centuries of not acknowledging the pain.
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There is a saintly aura that transcends my life every time seasons change. I can feel it in my bones, my back aches + my mind tries to coerce my spirit into thinking this feeling will pass, but the flesh won’t allow it to subside. It is no surprise that I am deeply introspective + probably more honest than others care for me to be. Blame it on my tragic beginning, all the hearts I broke, the lies I told + the trauma I ingested. I gather my mistakes + rinse them daily because unlike most people I see myself clearly because I like my coffee dark with lots of self- reflection. I sit in every choice + every regret until I can cover every circumstance in forgiveness. Lately I’ve experienced all kind of loss which reminds me that I’m still learning how to let grief take a seat until its ready to vacate my sanctuary.
Read MoreI 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.
Read MoreLately, I have been mourning the parts of me that carry the pain of holding onto my will for so long. I ache at the thought of surrendering + I cringe at the work that is going into relinquishing years of trauma. My muscles are bruised from the plight of being a single mother. There are parts of me that collapse under years of silence; having to stuff down fragmented sentences hoping that later they would make sense. Make no mistake, the heart listens to the suppressed emotions that eventually manifests in our bodies + the deeper burden is to be aware of it all. With every bit of knowledge and acknowledgment there comes an inevitable lingering despair which beckons us to forgive.
Read MoreTo carry the intersections of being black + a woman on the carousel of life while juggling the intersections of class + gender one must dissect the tradition of overcoming being a black woman. The black woman has endured destruction at every door + sometimes at the hand of her own mother, the mere reflection of her own likeness has been betrayed by generations of abandoned women. Unfortunately, even herself is not beyond her own suspicion. It’s complicated! She’s intelligent; but often insecure. She’s attractive, but often undesirable because her attitude reeks of rejection. She’s extremely loving, but unapproachable. She wears abandonment like cashmere; unemotional yet refined. Everyone has overlooked her; therefore, she must display a disposition of being perpetually guarded. God forbid she is exposed as false with all the blankets of contradictions. Striving in her career to overcompensate for the relationship she longs for. Playing interpersonal relationships like chess; never working with women who may challenge her for fear of being seen as an imposter. Dismissive at best; intimidated at worst. We struggle being seen because we have been overlooked for so long.
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