Loving Myself to Change

We pursue visibility often. The need to know that someone or someones have given us a nod of approval, read our words, liked our photos, has reviewed our work. But if visibility is driven by something at its foundation, that foundation I feel must be hate. Whether that hatred is about hating who you are… Continue reading Loving Myself to Change

The Gifts of My Mother –Reflections on Mother’s Day

''How simple a thing it seems to me that to know ourselves as we are, we must know our mothers' names.''                 -Alice Walker Whenever people ask me why I want to be a writer, I always begin at my mother, who is a writer. I would feel… Continue reading The Gifts of My Mother –Reflections on Mother’s Day

Close Encounters

black women breathe flowers, too. just because we are taught to grow them in the lining of our quiet (our grandmothers secret). does not mean we do not swelter with wild tenderness. we soft swim. we petal. we scent limbs. love. we just have been too long a garden for sharp and deadly teeth. so… Continue reading Close Encounters

From Overwhelmed to Empowered

But the horror of that moment stays with me, the realization that being smart and working hard might never be enough. I wasn’t sure how I could survive a world that would constantly question my abilities, give me more obstacles than my peers, and then downplay my achievements when I somehow managed to deliver. I… Continue reading From Overwhelmed to Empowered

Dr. Strangehate or: How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Embrace the ‘Angry Black Woman’ Trope

"I know a few things to be true...I am unwelcome and my beauty is not beauty here. My body is burning with the shame of not belonging, my body is longing. I am the sin of memory and the absence of memory. I watch the news and my mouth becomes a sink full of blood."… Continue reading Dr. Strangehate or: How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Embrace the ‘Angry Black Woman’ Trope