Originally published on For Harriet.
You are enough. Your health, wellness, and sanity are thorough reasons for taking excellent care of yourself. You must know this. We must know this. Even with families, companies, communities – hell, countries – depending on us to always come to the rescue, Black women must resist being absorbed by our various roles and relationships. Audre Lorde said “If I didn’t define myself for myself, I’d be crunched into other people’s fantasies of me and eaten alive.” At this point, we are fighting to define ourselves. Furthermore, we are learning and crafting the tools necessary to examine ourselves – to see our own wounds, and heal them; to recognize our own worth, and honor it. This is the very basis of self-care.
So this affirmation is vital: You are enough.
Still, you are not all.
Originally published on The Body Temple.
Confession: I love my period.
Yes, you read that right. I LOVE bleeding.
I’m not trying to brag, and trust me, I realize that this is not the case for all women. (It wasn’t always the case for me, either.) Many of you might experience crazy cramps (been there), wild PMS (definitely been there), Red Sea-level flows (that was me), and so on. Physical and emotional issues with bleeding can be even more intense if you struggle with fibroids, PCOS, if you’ve been raped (#metoo), assaulted or molested, had miscarriages, abortions (sigh… yes), or were told that this natural bodily function is dirty, unhealthy (heard that one), or a punishment for sin (yep, that too).
This piece was originally published on The Body Temple.
Some are hailing the recent movement against sexual assault and harassment as the end of the white male patriarchy as we know it. And some are giving major side-eye.
For Black women, body sovereignty is about so much more than #metoo.
(Originally published on my former website The Pleasure Prescription.)
I didn’t know I was an addict. But thinking about it now, I’ve always liked the odd emotional combinations induced by retrospection. It’s akin to yams with sautéed collards; dark chocolate and cherries; black coffee and gelato – fond memories and the smarting sensation of separation from them. A little bitter with the sweet intensifies the flavor.
When the pretty flowers seduced man into assisting them with the propagation of their species, did they know that the cost would be their freedom? They flaunted bright colors and intoxicated us with fragrance, and for such witchcraft we have relegated them to exist in the confines of garden walls and raised beds for their whole lives.