poet kush thompson sings a black girl’s song.
poet kush thompson sings a black girl’s song.
we’ve all been there. trapped in life/work/relationship/financial woes that make it difficult to get out of bed each morning — our lives feel like they’re not our own. instead of chucking the deuces to painful experiences, we allow insecurities, financial needs or other challenges to convince us to sit front row at the “my life is a hot ass mess convention.”
we start to listen to the voice in the back of our heads telling us that we don’t deserve happiness:
healthy relationships are made for tv.
emotional well being is a myth made up by white housewives who wear $90 yoga pants and drink pumpkin lattes.
for years, i was convinced that my toxic relationships would get better. i made excuses for myself and my past partners’ actions to legitimize the pain and drama that had become a part of my daily life.
i know it sounds like a scene from mary j.blige’s “not gon’ cry” video, but one day i literally looked in the mirror and said no more. i wanted to be proud of myself. i wanted my little sisters to know there’s nothing they can’t overcome, no situation they can’t rise above.
if you’re like me, then agonizing over whether it’s time to quit your job, create boundaries with loved ones or end a romantic relationship is the worst part. i’m no therapist, but here are five signs that prompted me to stretch, lace up my nikes and run towards a better life:
i’m sending love and positive vibes to folks facing emotional hardships. while your burden may be heavy today, remember we have the power to live through wars.
simply calling jasmine my style crush isn’t sufficient. her wardrobe is beyond. she’s more than epic style though — her blog, afia and jay, bridges the gap between fashion and career advice for millennials. check her out and fall in love.
i’m 19 days into my whole 30 cleanse (but who’s counting), and food has never tasted this good. eating only protein, fruit and vegetables has called for creative recipes — so i was beyond excited when mariama of brownbelle recommended we meet up at the spice suite in takoma park.
nestled on a short strip of local businesses, the spice suite is owned and operated by chef angel anderson. glass jars of internationally-sourced spices line the wall, boasting unique flavors like mesquite salt and raspberry sugar.
aside from selling spices and soups, the ambiance is delightful. it’s the kind of place that makes you want to post up with a good book, sip angel’s strawberry basil lemonade and chill on a quiet saturday afternoon. it’s like a black-owned cheers with a cozy, bohemian vibe.
not only is my pantry grateful for some new flavors, but i’m ecstatic to have finally met my blogger boo mariama! her lifestyle blog is a must read for food, interior design and style inspiration. she’s even lovelier in person, and i can’t wait to create magic together.
if you’re like me and think you’re doing something fancy by using trader joe’s sea salt, then it’s time you stopped by spice suite to get your life. nervous about delving into spices like saffron without a tutorial? no worries, angel’s hosting a sip ‘n spice on november 22nd to sip, chat and learn all about introducing new flavors into your cooking routine.
elegant, effortless and ethereal are words that come to mind when scrolling through 726 sqft. dedicated to her late grandfather (who’s birthday was 7/26), tiffany creates lifestyle and fashion posts that inspire me to get my entire life together. also, her photography skills are absolutely beyond.
all pictures via 726 sqft
my heart is breaking. watching the video of the child assaulted by a school resource officer in columbia, south carolina is a reminder that our examination of the school-to-prison pipeline can’t miss the forest for the trees. discriminatory systems are upheld by individual actors with racist and sexist beliefs — it’s the teachers, administrators and school resource officers who enforce policies that traumatize and brutalize our kids.
in response to the viral video of the teenager’s assault, law professor kimberlé crenshaw tweeted “black girls have no rights police are bound to respect. are we clear?” yes, professor crenshaw, that message is loud and clear. here are five facts that support this painful truth:
it felt as though i’d been tired for days, for months…maybe i’d been tired all year, maybe even longer.
i remember waking up one morning in the middle of june, in a flood of tears. the migraine i had struggled with the night before still raging like a storm in my head, and my chest still skipping off-beat from the panic attack i’d fought with the week before. as i rolled over in bed, sobbing uncontrollably at the thought of having to face another day, another dozen or more emails, hundreds of texts and several other “urgent” demands on my time, i realized that i needed to make some very *urgent* and intentional energetic shifts in order to regain a sense of balance in my life. i knew then that for the sake of my own well-being – and life – i needed to slow down, stop and catch my breath. i needed to do things differently.
as an activist and someone that’s been involved in social-justice-community organizing for many years, it’s hard to explain what it means to suffer from “systematic exhaustion.” though my body and mind felt weak and drained almost daily, i often felt shrouded by feelings of guilt for my tiredness. the moment i would start admitting the need to rest, i would hear myself saying really quite, destructive things like – “there are so many other people out there who have things a whole lot worse than you do,” “just keep going” and “you can do it.” being relatively young made it even more complicated – because who the hell was i to be feeling so tired at 30?
…and that’s when i decided to take a moment to pause.
i needed to be with myself alone in the cool, dark, quiet of dawn, outside among the trees and flowers, in the ocean, in my kitchen boiling ginger and lemongrass and chopping garlic. i needed to be in all of these places in order to release myself of all of the guilt, pain and anguish that i was feeling – and the ridiculous need to compare myself to others.
…and it was in those moments of revolutionary quiet that i found myself making decisions such as taking time off from work (and being unavailable and offline), shifting to part-time work to give my creative self the time and space that it needed, learning to say things like “no” (thank you) and being able to respond with “yes, but i will need some time for that.” i found myself reaching out to my various communities of care and sister circles saying– “i need your support” and “i need to be held.”
there is no shame in creating the space, and making time in order to allow yourself to heal. admitting the need for rest and prioritizing wellness does not make you any less of a “great” human being (or an activist). in fact, it speaks to the heart of self-preservation and revolutionary love, something that black women like toni cade bambara and audre lorde wrote so fiercely about.
taking the time out to heal and be well is one of the greatest gifts we could ever give ourselves and our communities. truth be told, i’m still figuring out what true balance looks and feels like – but these days i’ve been waking up feeling lighter, and with more of the sun in my eyes.
photo (iphone) credit: sabriya simon and amina doherty | graphic credit: politics & fashion
amina doherty is a nigerian feminist artivist whose work focuses on feminist philanthropy and creative arts for advocacy. she is passionate about art, travel, photography, fashion and writing. she lives and works from kingston, jamaica. you can tweet her at @sheroxlox.
i’ve been in a season of self-care. after making a conscious decision to stop normalizing anxiety and stress, i’m seeking a simpler life — one that’s judged by the quality of my experiences, not the quantity of my possessions. thankfully, i’m not doing the work of re-evaluting my position in the american rat race alone — sisters of the yam by bell hooks has been my bible and sister’s circle dc has become my congregation.
let’s be honest. popular beauty magazines weren’t made for women of color. needles have been found in haystacks sooner than locating independent fashion and beauty sources designed for and by black women. but now we’ve been blessed with hannah magazine — let the flyest of our ancestors shout for glory.
hannah is a delicious biannual print book created by qimmah saafir (pictured in the black top above). just scrolling through the images online made my heart skip a beat. qimmah and her crew are filling a visual void for sisters, and i couldn’t be prouder. the best part: hannah covers socio political issues too. one time for politics and fashion. now that the magazine has been crowd sourced, stay tuned for the print book’s release date. we see you hannah.
all pics via hannah magazine.
A Guild for Creative Subsistence and Crafty Tomfoolery