I'm the captain now

Below is excerpts from a letter I penned to a loved one and my reflections thereafter. The letter was mainly about trying to revive our relationship and sustain a healthy one. This person is near and dear to my heart and there was a time when I would’ve laid my life on the line for them. After years of no reciprocation, I had to get out of that mindset and set my heart and mind free.

“Wassup,

I sincerely hope all is well with you. I hope when this reaches you, you are met with peace, comfort, understanding and love. How are you really doing?

Admittedly, I ignored your calls and when they became excessive, I blocked the number until I was ready to talk to you or hear from you again. All this to protect my peace…”

This freedom included setting myself free from financially providing for them, feeling obligated to respond to their requests, making excuses for their shortcomings. A lot of times, when one hears about relationships and breaking away from them, we think of significant others and not necessarily family members. Our families can be the main ones that have the ability to lift us up or break us down. I think familial relationships are more difficult to break from because we cannot choose who we are biologically related to. It can be difficult to advocate for yourself if you are mistreated by family because confrontation is uncomfortable and a lot is on the line. A lot of people cannot afford to be at odds with their families because of financial reasons, living arrangements, family secrets, etc. When you are born into this world, the few folks that you should be able to depend on is your family.

I’m here to say that it is OK to break away from your family. It is OK to leave toxic environments or not go around at all. It is OK to ignore that phone call, set boundaries, don’t go to their residence, or feel obligated to attend family events especially if you know you will be uncomfortable, disrespected, picked on, etc. I knew since I was a teen that staying in an environment that didn’t value my presence, appreciate who I was and wouldn’t give me space to thrive, was not the place for me. This is why I applied to college in Upstate NY or out of state. During a recent powerful phone conversation, my best friend and I were reflecting on who I was as a teen, and she reminded me that I used to be angry at everything and felt like I had to fight for everything. I can admit that I was aggressive and felt the need to defend myself because no one else defended me. No one defended my heart, no one defended my body and no one defended my honor. Due to this, I felt that I had to fight for everything. I would speak up if I felt like I was being played, I would apply aggression to physical situations, I was always ready to defend myself from any and everyone. This allowed me to build up years of fear, abandonment issues and so much more. This also forced me to rely on self because I was thrust into a situation where, if I didn't make sure I was good financially or otherwise, no one else would or no one else would go the lengths I'd go for myself. When I finally got out of that space and did serious self assessment, I was able to acknowledge and admit where those reactions and where the pain comes from. From my experience, I am very careful who I associate with whether in passing, within my career, family members and romantic partners. Growing up, I was in spaces where I’ve witnessed physical abuse, cursing, screaming, crying, breaking things, etc. I don’t want to have that as my norm as an adult and IF I see an inkling of it, anywhere around me, I know that that isn’t the space for me.

 “If I find myself cursing at someone or being callous, disrespectful, short, annoyed, etc., I have to admit that the respect isn’t there and I gotta rectify that within myself and with them or stay away from them.  I don’t associate with partners who talk to me disrespectfully, who threaten me, who harm me, etc. I’ve (we’ve) grown up in this and now that I have a choice in my environment and over my autonomy, I will no longer allow it within myself or around me. I won’t take it from them and I won’t take it from my blood…”

I had to fight for my peace within myself and within my surroundings. I appreciate what my adopted mom has done for me but I am grateful to have my own space. Getting my first place in NYC signified more than flexing my independence. It meant retaining and maintaining my freedom because going back “home” legit wasn’t an option, physical space wise and mental space wise. It is more than okay to go where you are wanted, to dwell where you know your feelings will be reciprocated, to live in peace and love. The idea of "giving myself permission" used to sound so silly to me but I am more conscientious  of it. I give myself permission to heal from my past traumas and not hold on to that which hurt me. I used to hold on to the pain so vehemently because it was familiar to me and it is was drove me. I'm here to tell you to give yourself permission to heal, to let go, to maintain your peace, to rectify your sanity. Sometimes, this looks like going to a friends events instead of family events or staying home. This looks like supporting your friends or significant other before you support your family. This looks like telling your friends/significant other things before you tell your family. This looks like not lending money out. This looks like withholding your business or news from family who you know aren't going to be genuinely happy for you. 

In this journey, I understand that I am not perfect and I am sure I have offended others. I have learned that I prefer not to move in malice, disrespect, misunderstanding, etc. so I am open to reconcile and apologizing if I or they deem it necessary. It used to be sooooooo difficult for me to acknowledge my wrongs and apologize. Literally. I used to say it in a low, rushed voice so that no one could hear me. That was my pride speaking for me because I disliked being "weak". Apologizing doesn't make you weak, it allows you to self assess and rectify your wrong doings, even if you didn't do it on purpose. I always have to remember that my intent doesn’t matter but my impact does. I am not above apologizing for my actions and words as I believe this opens the door way for accountability and healing. 

“…If you ever feel as though I am not giving you these things/feelings/vibes, let me know, I’m always down to have this discussion or listen to you. I am learning and growing and I’m not perfect but I am willing. Never do I want you moving through this world feeling unloved, not cared for, forgotten, taken for granted, hurt, depressed, etc. at the expense of something I said or did…” Reciprocity is important to me. I think most humans appreciate knowing they're appreciated and it being mirrored. This is what drives us and sustains us and our relationships. In the event that I am not giving you the same positive energy as me, it is important I am notified so I can rectify. It is never my purpose to make you feel devalued or unappreciated. With this standard that I set for myself, I too want this to be the standard of how others will treat me. 

“I work hard to protect my heart, my mind and my space and disengage from anything that interrupts that, especially considering all the bullshit I’ve been through which you know about. I will no longer engage in anything that seeks to bring me back to a place of hurt, self-doubt, uncertainty, pain, anxiety, depression, feeling unworthy, etc.” and I mean that. I am sincerely and truly reclaiming my time and hoping I am breaking generational curses in the process. Love lives in my space. Forgiveness lives in my space. Joy lives in my space. Happiness lives in my space. Humility lives in my space. Healing thrives through my space. A line comes to me from a gospel song called “I will bless the Lord” by Bryon Cage. He stated “ You don't know, ‘cause you weren’t there, when God snatched me out of the enemy’s hand.” If you knew how many times I've prayed for happiness, I've cried myself to sleep in the dark, how many times I've hugged myself, how many times I've begged for reciprocity until I had to give myself that gift, how many walls I've built up and taken down In the name of comradery and family just for it to have to be rebuilt, stronger and tougher this time. When you had to look at your scarred and bruised body multiple times and force yourself to give yourself a compliment and realize the beauty within and  out, and years of undoing decades of negative self talk and from others, you'd know how far I'm willing to go to protect and maintain my peace. You'd know how hard I've come and why I no longer will engage in anything that doesn’t reflect that.

May you respect me, love me, see me as worthy, care for me, and wish for me all things good or return when you do, and only when you do. 

PERIODT.

I am the captain now. This is entitled that because I am the captain of my life, of my happiness, my joy, my peace, ALL THINGS GOOD and I will take as much control as God allows me.

I wrote this spur of the moment on Facebook and this is a reminder to myself and to you.  

“If you knew how much I cried, how much I fought, how many times I've had to hug myself, how many times I've had to soothe myself, how many times I've screamed in silence, how many times I've tried to shrink myself, how miserable I was, how angry I was, how aggressive I was, how many times I've prayed, how many times I've had to lick my wounds, sometimes self inflicted and otherwise, how many times I was close to losing my sanity, how many break downs, how much weight I had to lift up off me, you'd know why I fought and fight so hard, why I maintain my peace, why I keep my space, why I speak so loud, why I am so proud of me and why I wont let anyone else, me or otherwise, take me there again. Amen.”

AMEN.

Protecting my peace and Blackness

By Anonymous

In order to protect myself and the people I am speaking about (although I should just say F you because you're selfish), I am going to be changing the names of those involved.

My first real instance with sexual assault/harassment/whatever your specific label for it is, was when I was 11 or 12 years old. I didn't even know what this was until years later which is my first issue; why wasn't I taught how to protect myself from this? 'This' as I just called it was a form of sexual exploitation or exposure. Do you remember when you would play a game on the internet like chess or something but some of them had chatrooms? Well, that exactly how this happened. This sounds so stupid now that I'm older because I clearly know better now but didn't realize I didn't know so much then. Like almost every other story, I met a "girl" in the chatroom playing checkers and we exchanged AIM screennames (first instance of stupidity on my part). Well, after months of playing checkers together online and setting up times to play via AIM, I get a video call one day from "her" and answered it. It wasn't "her"; it wasn't even a "her". It was some guy in the military masturbating. I deleted my AIM after that and never said anything about it because I didn't understand, but I knew I didn't want to see it again.

Then, at 14, my boyfriend at the time would blow up my phone about wanting hand jobs or blow jobs and how on our one-year anniversary, we were going to have sex. When his parents found these messages on his phone, they told my parents I put him up to it and my parents believed them because I was a year older. My parents believed that I told him over the phone to send me those texts, but never had texts to prove I ever responded in any way in agreeance or acceptance of his demands. At 15, he was still trying to control me even though we were not together and would consistently message me on Facebook looking to meet up secretly or send each other pictures. I don't know what I was so stupid and didn't just ignore him prior to this but at some point, I just did, and he stopped reaching out...…...until he found out I was 16 and had a boyfriend. Then it became less annoying and more threatening; "you were supposed to love me", "you promised to never leave me", "you know you think about me". Sexual harassment and verbal abuse; what a lovely combination to spew at someone you say you love.

All of these past scenarios seemed to disappear from my memory once I finally found something worth allowing myself to be a part of. I had 2 beautiful years of what a healthy relationship should be, but then I went to college. Within my first week of college, I made this friend. We'll call him Stephen. Stephen always seemed very protective of me and I really thought nothing of it because we were a part of an entire group of friends. He knew my boyfriend so I really never thought anything out of the ordinary would become of this friendship, but that all changed 5 years later. We will come back to Stephen. With Stephen my 2nd year of college came his friend we'll call Kyle. Kyle lived upstairs from me in the dorms. Kyle was cool, was in some clubs I was in, and was always down for game night. I don't even know how far into our friendship this happened, but as I walked into the dorm elevator one night, Kyle and his roommate got in with me and only hit the button for their floor. I figured I would just go to my floor after they got off but instead, Kyle bearhugged me (which wasn't out of the ordinary) and wouldn't let me go (out of the ordinary) until we were in his room. After tossing me onto his bed, he and his roommate laughed and asked when I was going to the dining hall. Turns out they wanted to just 'kidnap' me for dinner but thought they were being funny and only took me with them to their room so they could get their ID to get into

dinner. I accepted that as an answer even though at 19, I started to be able to understand that I knew better. This Kyle situation got worse however. One day on my way to class, Kyle picked me up as he hugged me and grabbed my thighs. Once he put me down, he let me know how he "liked that I was getting thick and he needed me to keep doing whatever I was doing". I avoided him in whichever way I could after that, and never moved back onto campus. I knew that was wrong but didn't have the voice to tell anyone. So, I didn’t, and it haunted me for a long time.

Now, 4 years later, a lot older and more mature, capable of understanding and knowing how to protect my body in a way I didn't before, Stephen REALLY tried it. A few months ago, at an event, Stephen decided he wanted to tell me that he has wanted to see, feel, and suck my breasts since they first day he met me, but he didn't because he respected my boyfriend. RESPECTED MY BOYFRIEND, not me, MY BOYFRIEND. As I went to remove myself from the situation, he proceeded to tell me that he still wants to have sex and asked if we could multiple times. How many times do you need to say No for that shit to stick? As I walked into the event and proceeded to explain the conversation, I just had with someone I trusted, they just laughed. Now this person I trusted was an adult. They took my concern for a joke. When Stephen showed up drunk, I took it upon myself to continuously move myself away from him because this adult took what I said for a joke. I was uncomfortable and that shit was a joke to someone. Stephen has a girlfriend now and hasn't tried to speak to me since. Hallelujah.

As I just explained all of these occurrences to a friend who thought she experienced sexual violence, she asked me why I stayed quiet for so long. My answer: I'm protecting my peace and my blackness. She knew exactly what that meant. I have learned how to use my voice and luckily that same boyfriend from before is still around and he has opened my eyes to a world of protecting myself, so others don't have to. I always thought someone was supposed to protect me. I choose to move on from these situations because my peace needs to come before putting any energy into people who thought they had power over me. They never won. They never got what they wanted and that was me. When I say I'm protecting my blackness though, I mean I'm protecting my character, integrity, and self-image. In our community we always hear that "I wasn't allowed to sit on my dad or uncles lap," or "I wasn't allowed to sleep over and her house because she has a dad and brothers there". That shit is crazy. Those statements aren't protecting us from predatory behavior, it's protecting predators from being exposed. I have never heard anyone outside of the Black/Brown/POC category say any of this, ever experience this, NOTHING. That's what a lot of the black community does though. You don't believe little girls when they say they were touched. You limit your children from having childhood experiences such as a sleepover because God forbid something happens, you think you're to blame for letting your child sleepover rather than blame the predator. Why is that? Black women protect Black men at any cost in most scenarios. This is a major one. If I have a big butt and it hangs out of my shorts, I'm told to wear bigger clothes and cover up because I'm being "a hoe, thot, slut, skank, etc." when really my body shouldn't be hypersexualized by men who can't control themselves. When men sag their pants, we don't tell them having their penis poking out like that makes them any of those derogatory things because were too busy defending them when someone calls them a thug. I never spoke up because it would have either been my fault somehow, taken as a joke, or a cry for attention. Why? Black women protect Black men at any cost, and we aren't being protected back at the same rate. No one protected me until I learned to do it myself.

More info on college sexual assault

https://collegestats.org/resources/sexual-assault-prevention/

Lada: I appreciate Anonymous sharing this with me. Sexual assault, especially on college campuses is so prevalent. We must educate ourselves and each other so that we could prevent sexual assault and empower those who are afraid to speak out. The feelings afterward are very complex and many suffer in silence. Thank you so much for trusting me and trusting this platform. You are appreciated, valuable and loved. Thank you <3

Why the office is my safe space.

People wonder why I love The Office so much. Netflix is bugging for even considering taking it off air.

When They See Us Promo Cover

With the release of When they see us By Ava Duvernay, my timeline exploded with reviews, tears and demands that EVERYONE must see this. In the first few months, all I kept seeing was that I had to watch it. I already knew about the case from years previous and I already knew I wouldn’t be seeing it. I didn’t watch the Kalief Browder story either, but I was stunned by the case and occasionally cry when I think about him, especially him being a Bronx native and as young as he is. It hits even closer to home as I have brothers who are incarcerated.

People have jokingly asked me how is it that I could watch a “white show” but not want to watch something that has to do with “us”. I say because I know what is going to happen in the office. I know Michael Scott’s quirky ways, I know the precise moment Dwight is going to be an asshole, I know when Pam is going to annoy me with her self-righteous. Having been a fan for years and solely getting Netflix for the office, I know it’s going to make me laugh and reflect joyfully. I know what’s coming and I know my stomach, heart and mind can take it. I know that watching When They See Us will evoke hatred, anger, sadness, helplessness, and fury. I know I am justified in feeling all these things. These feelings are not foreign to me, but I am resentful, annoyed, exhausted when they come and when they frequent my body, mind and thoughts. I feel things deeply and powerfully. I’m not obligated to watch our pain in HD. I’m not obligated to see our mutilated bodies whether by actors or real video’s, my ears automatically want to stop our anguished cries for help, for sorrow for freedom. I am not obligated to revisit my trauma and I wish people would stop quilting others into it. I have a threshold and I know that watching these videos pass it. After the deaths of Eric Garner, Philando Castile, Tamir Rice, Sandra Bland and countless others, most caught on film to be played repeatedly, I no longer watch videos, or I try to find the description before I watch it. I am very wary of automatic videos that play.

According to our trusted Wiki, vicarious trauma is Vicarious traumatization is a transformation in the self of a trauma worker or helper that results from empathetic engagement with traumatized clients and their reports of traumatic experiences. It is a special form of counter transference stimulated by exposure to the client's traumatic material. Many of us have suffer from generational trauma, vicarious trauma and many other forms. Paying attention to our bodies, paying attention to our souls and ourselves is so important and imperative to the work we do. If you want to take a break, that is fine, too.

This isn’t any excuse for those who can actually affect numbers and make changes (WHITE PEOPLE, CONGRESS, LAW MAKERS, THOSE WHO ARE TYPICALLY SILENT ABOUT PAIN, ETC). to get off the hook. Those suggestions aren’t for you.

I was jokingly asked what do you do for the community?” in comparison to me watching the film. At first insulted, but with true reflection, I am able to say this: Your support can look different. it doesn’t require having to watch a film in order to support or be in the know. Information comes from different sources. I am able to read something before I am able to watch it. I support my community by creating safe spaces in the events that I host. I am a licensed social worker who is purposeful in working in the community I come from and live in. I purposely dedicate my time and resources to black and brown people, the folks who are most affected by police brutality and unjust laws. I pay special attention to those who are part of those community and further marginalized for their sexuality, identity, whether they are disable, language, citizenship and so much more. I donate where I can or spread the word via my social media platforms and within my circle. I am consistently available to those who need my help or point them in the right direction if I am able. Please don’t ever minimize the work that you do or feel as though you have to have money to help support your community. Protect your peace and don’t feel guilty for it. Don’t feel guilty for not wanting to watch the pain. Don’t feel guilty for averting your eyes. Don’t feel guilty for shutting it out. Self-care is important and not just an act of care but an act of revolution. Caring for black bodies and black minds and souls is a revolution.

This piece is specifically to my people of color, my black people who are always at the forefront, who are always the first to take the blow and the last to be checked in with, this is for people who feel that the little they have aren’t enough, this is for my people who are learning to self-care in a word that seeks to break you down and make you feel guilty for caring for your needs. I see all of you and hope this piece provides peace. Much love <3

A reminder - You're doing amazing sweetie

As it is now the third month into the new year, many of us were filled with great energy and motivation to complete our goals that we set out for in January. Some of us have lost the momentum and I’m here to tell you: You’re doing amazing, sweetie.

So no, you may not have stuck to your dietary plan, you may not have saved up that money that you planned to, you may not have written that business plan, you may not have done anything you set out to do. OK. It doesn’t mean you cant start. It doesn’t mean that if you started, you cant finish. It doesn’t mean you’re incapable, it doesn’t mean you are are a failure, it doesn’t mean you cant get shit done.

First and foremost:

You are more than enough. You are doing great things and you will do great things. You are making things happen. You are out here. You are on track. You are doing more than enough and if you are not, you have more than enough time to do what you set out to do. Your goals are worthy. Your dreams are valid. You are capable. You will succeed.

Time: We always feel we are running out of time. We often feel as though there is not enough time or we wait until it is “too late”. As long as you are still breathing, you have time. As long as you’re still able, you can do it. I know it sounds cliche but it’s so true. Time keeps us on track but it can also be used as a constraint. Use time to your advantage. Carve out at least 30 minutes to an hour a day or once a week to focus on what you want to do. Start small and then increase as you build stamina. Start your blog. Start your website. Start your photography or add to your portfolio. Research for your podcast. Look up vendors for your clothing line. Sign up for a gofundme account (nothing wrong with asking for funds to start your business). Order that book that will help you get your ideas off the ground. Draw. Write. Create. Outline, sketch, or stretch. Renew that gym membership. Look into yoga. Look for free events. Link up with the people you meant to link up with. Send that email. Apply to that job. DO YOU.

Fear: We allow fear to dictate how we treat ourselves and how we treat others. We allow it to dictate how and if we move forward on something we’ve wanted to do for our whole lives. We are too scared to pursue our dreams or finish because we are scared of our own success, we are scared of what people will think, and we are scared to follow through. Realistically, you are the one that holds you back. When I first started this website, I just knew I wanted to get my thoughts out and pursue what I was passionate about. 3 years later, it’s still here and people still connect with it. I am so happy this is one of the dreams I pursued. I still struggle with my other goals but fear hasn’t been a driving factor behind this. If anything fear of not seeing this to fruition, pushed me to go for it. I remember my dear friend said something to me that changed my life forever. I was expressing to her how scared and nervous I was for the future. She shared with me that she couldn’t understand why when everything I put my mind to, gets done. She talked about the many blessings I’ve had and how she is eager to see where my life will lead. I listened to her and thought, “wow, someone is eager for me?” it made me question where my fear came from and changed my mindset. This is what pushed me to move back to NYC. This is what pushed me to wear a 2 piece bathing suit to a pool party in Dallas where I would normally cover up or just avoid it all together. (I’ve never been to one before) This is what pushed me to try new things. I had someone in my corner who was eager and rooting for me which pushed me to root for myself.What was I truly scared of when everything I put my mind to and prayed for came to fruition. Nothing that has been meant for me has missed my grasp.

Motivation: Some of us are just plain ol’ unmotivated. Our moods change, our mental health sometimes isn’t stabilized, some of us are concerned about bills, children, school, work, lack of resources, etc. Some of us are looking at others and comparing ourselves to them which then leads us to stay stagnant. I believe that motivation fluctuates. So on some days or weeks you may be motivated consistently and then something happens where that motivation slowly decreases or is just gone. It’s ok. Try and do something, even if it is little, that helps you towards your goals. Maybe its writing a paragraph. Maybe its reading a paragraph. Maybe its taking a 10 minute walk. Maybe it’s doing 5 minute meditation. Do something. Even in this moment, take some time to do something towards your goals. You are worth that.

Procrastination: Do I really have to explain? So much of our lives are spent procrastinating but all of those factors listed above has to do with it. Time, fear, lack of motivation and insecurities all contribute to why we procrastinate or stay stagnant. We can no longer afford this lifestyle. You have dreams and goals you want to pursue. You are worth seeing things through. Your voice should be heard. Your book should be read.

Be kind to yourself: Remember, there are more of us than not, that are trying to get our shit together. We’re all out here trying to find our way. Despite what people post on their social media, despite the clothes we wear, despite the smiles on our faces; we’re all going through it and feeling our way around this life. Some of us are still grieving, some of us are still healing or haven’t started that process. Some of us are the first to attend or graduate school in our families, some of us are just starting our own businesses, some of us are first time parents, some of us are first generation folks, and some of us are just plain tired of the daily grind. ITS OK. Be kind to yourself. Kindness looks like giving yourself a compliment. Kindness looks like turning your negative thoughts around to say some positive things about yourself or your situation. Kindness looks like meditation. Kindness looks like sleeping or taking a walk. Kindness looks like eating healthy or indulging in some sweets. Kindness looks like surrounding yourself with people who value your opinion and presence. Kindness looks like taking the day off or leaving early. Kindness looks like making that appointment. Kindness looks like splurging on yourself. Kindness looks like saying “no”. Kindness looks like receiving affection or feeling on your own ass lol. There’s so many ways to be kind to yourself. Make a habit of practicing it, daily. The world is already rough on us.

Listen, I started this draft on December 9th, 2018 lol. Shit happens but things will get done. I’ve been dedicating my Sunday’s to writing, organizing, planning, publishing, researching and focusing on what it is that makes my heart flutter, that motivates me, that inspires me to keep pushing myself. I still struggle with my fitness goals and healthy eating goals but I cant afford to beat myself up not reaching these goals. it’s not a matter of if I will reach them but acknowledging that I haven’t met them yet. A lot of times getting down on ourselves hinders our process and progress. Overall, my goal is to be kinder to myself and pace myself.

I wrote this piece to make you laugh, to motivate you and to encourage you to keep moving but if you haven’t moved yet, its OK. BUT, move, one step at a time. Revisit that new years list or make a new one, but do something to take care of your passions. Do something for yourself.

I remember hearing this quote in the movie Freedom Writers(2007) and then receiving this on a laminated paper. It resonates with me now more then it ever did 12 years ago.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” 
― Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles"

Let’s go. We got goals. Amen.

You're not invited to the cookout.

No, you’re not invited to the cookout.

For centuries, black people and people of color have had our bodies invaded, our religion and spirituality stripped from us, our lineage cut short, been ripped apart from our families, and so many other, violent, dehumanizing, acts forced upon us. Modern day accounts of systematic slavery (jails and prisons), systematic racism and so much more are still very much real, today. From our skin tones, to our hair, to our voices, to our words, to our cultures, we’ve always been and still are heavily scrutinized. The most recent example I can think of is NYS just passed a law saying that hair discrimination is illegal. It is 2019 YALL! Read article below for more info:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/soniathompson/2019/02/22/new-york-city-just-banned-hair-discrimination-the-commonly-overlooked-reason-it-impacts-your-brand/?fbclid=IwAR32Bs1Cng3n56MZEl1va1GLzRYKKIeAitBh5b8zHOF9QPiGDLZvpaZwJC8#677187822ca7

For centuries, we have recorded our pain, our strife, our journeys via pen, via cries, via blood, via lives, via video for quality and acceptance to no avail. White supremacy is still alive and thriving. Through it all, black people have thrived in our jobs, in our communities, in educational systems meant to lock us out, in entrepreneurship, etc. There has been a new wave of black millennials reclaiming our space, time, voices, energy, healing, spirituality and so much more. Aunty Maxine Waters had said one of the most integral things back in 2017 Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin.

One of the ways in which we reclaim our time and take back our essence is to hold space for blacks only. Black only spaces are integral for our growth, success, and culture. We can talk among each other, safely, share our own unique experiences, fellowship, connect with each other and grow together without the hindrance or opinions of others who don’t have (historically and present), our best interest at heart. Many people may feel that this is a segregationist practice, however, historically, whites doing this unto us has been detrimental to our health, well being and livelihood while our response is an act of survival. When we’ve invited other people into our spaces, our interests are often left to the back burner, we’ve been taken advantage of, we’ve been hurt, we’ve been shamed for our way of life and killed. One such example is gentrification where whole cultures and generations are wiped out and people are forced to relocate. Consider present day Brooklyn and modern-day America. Black people are made to feel guilty about loving each other, first and fully. We are made to feel ashamed of spending our money among each other. We are demonized for wanting to have our own communities and be among those we love, cherish.  Recent videos of us minding our business and being harassed by white people show the annoyances and dangers that we must go through when others are in our spaces or when we are simply minding our business. Some of these video taped occurrences below:

https://www.theroot.com/tag/white-people-calling-the-police-on-black-people

These actions have also often lead to our deaths. Often, when others are invited in our spaces, we don’t get the credit for our genius. One such example is Katherine Goble, a mathematician who worked for NASA. We recently saw her and her colleagues story told in the movie, Hidden Figures. Many of our achievements aren’t given credit and when we are acknowledged, it is often long after people have passed away.

There were times when we were denied the opportunity to marry each other so we had to jump the broom on our own. There were times when we couldn’t read so we had to sneak to learn. There were times when we couldn’t story tell so we had to tell our stories on patchwork quilts. There were times when we couldn’t practice our spirituality, so we had to sneak to light our own fires and sneak to worship. There were times we couldn’t bury our dead, so we had to have makeshift ceremonies to acknowledge our ancestors. There were times we couldn’t have our own communities because they were burned down and people were killed. So, if and when black people want to convene, we don’t need permission, approval, supervision or violence. It is time we reclaim our time, spaces, bodies, cultures, religion, spirituality, essence and being. So no, youre not invited to the cookout. Excuse us as we love one another, support one another, grow with one another, thrive together, and shine together.  ✊🏾

Nice for what?

Throughout my life, people have accused me of being aggressive, often pairing this with the reason I’m single. They say this while demanding that I be smaller, demanding that I take up less space, demanding that I be quiet, demanding that I calm down even when they say inflammatory things, “encouraging” me to let my guard down. All of this with no consideration of who I am, what made me this way and no indication of protecting me once *if* my guard is down. As I think back on the origins of my aggression, it brings me to air it all out in this piece, and encourage all of my aggressive girls to exclaim “nice for what!” not as a question but as a definitive statement.

I’ve dubbed myself a tom boy, as I grew up with my brothers and wanted to emulate them so bad lol. I thought everything they did was admirable and wanted to be part of their brotherhood. I also think growing up in foster care and with a family like mine, I had no choice but to be “hard”. My brothers wouldn’t allow me to be “soft”, often challenging me to make sure I could hold my own, physically. I always felt the need to fend for myself or at least prove that I could. It was important for me to show attitude or “snap back” to prove how tough I was so other people wouldn’t tease me. Where I’m from, it was important to be able to never fold and never appear nice in certain situations. Where I’m from, being nice could mean you get taken advantage of. Being nice could mean someone could abuse you. Being nice meant that someone could beat you up. Being nice meant that someone could molest you. Being nice could mean someone could rape you. Being nice could get you killed.

There was a time when I noticed the “softer”, quiet, docile girls received more attention and admiration and I secretly envied them. In elementary school, I remember dubbing these girls as “important” whereas I felt insignificant. I wanted to be admired, too and not just by boys, but by society. If I wasn’t pretty, I was forgotten, if I wasn’t small, i wasn’t protected, if I wasn’t quiet, I was unworthy of respect. Looking back, I’m grateful I stuck to who I truly was. People weren’t interested in why I would be quick to snap back, why I was always ready to throw hands, why I didn’t wear a smile on my face, why there was very little to smile about, why I wouldn’t take chances, why I guarded my heart, why I always wanted to keep a weapon near, why I always need to be near the exit, why I always have to plot how I could escape, why I always need to know where I’m going, why I seem cold hearted, why I’m brutally honest, why I am barely able to be surprised, why I gotta be 2 steps ahead with a lot of shit.

Looking back, I both felt comfortable in baggy clothes due to this naturally being my comfort level and to avert attention from my growing body. My body developed damn near when I was still in elementary school and I felt very self-conscious. I wanted to avoid further sexual abuse. I wanted to stop unwanted attention from dudes on the corner. I wanted to be damn near invisible, because a growing girl is made to feel ashamed in her body. A growing girl is told to do as she’s told and not as she feels. A growing girl is told not to ask questions. A growing girl is accused of acting grown. A growing girl is forced to please everyone around her, despite her own needs.

It wasn’t until I found my voice, until I noticed what was uniquely mine, that I started to, quite frankly, not give a fuck. That started a little before high school and has continued into adulthood. I’m so glad I had such self-awareness and was validated by those around me (shout out to you Ms. Hill for encouraging me to use my powers for good) to continue to be me, but, improve. It wasn’t until I got to college that I learned to not necessarily quiet down, but more so, allow other voices to be heard. Thank you for humbling me, my LMC Fam.

Throughout my years, I’ve learned that people who “F*ck with you” and by that I mean “your vibe, your energy, your flow”, will f*ck with you, regardless.

You aren’t for everyone and that’s OK. You find your tribe and y’all eat together, migrate together, grow together and stunt together. Or you can be a lone wolf and that’s dope, too. I’ve found that people want you to be quiet, docile, small, so they can manipulate, so they can take up space, so it makes them more at ease to do with you what they will, so that you won’t talk back, fight back, bite back, etc.

I recall a story of when I took my 1-year-old niece to the park one day and this older boy pushed past her in a game of hide and seek. He hid underneath a bench and she sure did waddle her way over to him, bend down, said a bunch of gibberish that accurately let out her frustration, got up and walked away. At first, I tried to convince her to be nice and that it was a mistake, but after some thought, she rightfully deserved to feel what she felt and express herself in the way that she did. I was going harder to convince her to chill then he put any effort in to apologize or acknowledge his behavior (granted they were 1 and 5 lol but it taught me a lesson).

And with that, I say, talk back, fight back, bite back. Nice for what? Drake wasn’t lying and neither was Lauryn.

After the iconic Big Freedia graces our ears with her voice, we hear:

I keep letting you back in… how can I explain myself?

before the beat drops. I had to go back to Lauryn’s song of course and read the last part of her lyrics.

There for me, there for me!
Said you'd be there for me!
Cry for me, cry for me!
You said you'd die for me!
Give to me, give to me!
Why won't you live for me?!

Don’t be ashamed that niceness isn’t your default. That smiling first is not your forte. Don’t be ashamed of your resting bitch face. Don’t be ashamed of guarding your heart. Of holding out. Of being aggressive. Of never folding and having to get back up when you do. Don’t be ashamed of your attitude. A lot of these people don’t be worth it. But you are. While I do call for healing and growth, I encourage you to do so at your own pace and not at the expense of others, Sis. It is imperative we heal ourselves and seek self-love practices in order to be our best selves and take care of what is truly important, you. There is nothing wrong with putting yourself first, Niece. I say all that to say don’t be ashamed of being hard in a world where soft is seen as a punching bag. Don’t be ashamed to walk down the block with your head held high as you try hard to hold on for another day. Don’t be afraid to be aggressive as you deem fit. You are worthy, anyway. You are amazing, despite your hardships. You are kind. You are just right and you are still growing.

And to those who are reading who feel like you don’t have to put up with it. First, STFU. But, you’re completely right. You don’t have to put up with my mean ass. You don’t have to put up with the attitude. You don’t have to wait for me. You don’t have to be kind to me. You don’t have to be patient with me. So then, leave me alone. Allow me to heal without scrutiny. Don’t look at me. Don’t bother me. Don’t stunt my growth. Don’t criticize me. One of my preteen clients taught me that you don’t take something away unless you’re willing to replace it. You don’t have a right to tell someone to change themselves and not offer the right type of support. You don’t have the right to tear people down, to command that the defense mechanism be knocked down and do nothing to protect them once its already down. You’re not strong enough to pick up the pieces.

This goes out to my aggressive girls and women. The ones who couldn't be soft. The ones who had no choice but to be hard. The ones who were self-conscious and never felt admired. The ones with the chip on their shoulders. The ones who won’t fold. The ones who try in the dark. The ones with the attitude. The ones with their guards up. This one is for you. 

Not In This House

A few weeks ago, I was babysitting my 3-year-old niece. This was the first time she was spending the night with me in my own space. She asked me to go to the bathroom with her and I happily obliged. I love that she trusts me and I’m always happy to support her, even in the slightest endeavors. While handling her business, she shared that she was scared, and I asked her “what are you scared of?” She told me that she was scared of monsters. I looked her in the eyes and told her monsters don’t exist and more importantly “you’re safe with me and there’s no monsters in this house.” I said it with so much conviction that she didn’t question it or push it any further.

This pic was taken when my niece was still a baby. I loved how symbolic our handshake was. I meant it then, and I mean it now.

I remember as a child, being afraid of the dark, monsters and having these horrid dreams. My brothers would tease me, innocently, yet earnestly, often saying “that man” or would imitate the horrid “tales from the crypt” skeleton laugh. In our home, we had a long dark hallway that I feared. All the liveliness happened in the living room which was in the back of the house. The hallway led to the front of our apartment. It was where our rooms were, the bathroom, and closets. Though they couldn’t have known, what they teased me with really did manifest itself into something years later. A man did invade our home, for years and I was tormented by him. Thankfully I survived. The other things that I was afraid of, darkness, isolation, loneliness, I had reason to be. I was 4 years old, in foster care and away from the woman and man I loved. I was away from my siblings. In order to see my mother, I had to wait once a month and travel far away to reach her. I couldn’t hear my dad’s voice when I wanted to and was eventually kept from my dad for years. My brothers, whom I had known and was used to waking up to were in different homes and I couldn’t see them when I wanted to. There was little safety and no conviction, anywhere.

This interaction with my niece made me think about generational curses and how, even as an adult, I was afraid of being alone, afraid of the dark, and how these fears manifested in my daily life. At one point, I couldn’t enter my home without doing a full home inspection before I felt completely safe in it. I couldn’t be in a space alone without feeling like someone or something would pounce on me. Being separated from people I love due to the “the belly of the beast” is an agonizing feeling. As a child and into my teens, I was so angry for so long. I couldn’t look people in the eyes who were being sincere or serious. I was insecure about my body for years. I was always ready to fight and defend myself and I still am. The difference is now; I don’t have to.

I remember hearing Jay Z’s beach chair, off his 2006 Kingdom Come album.

“See I got demons in my past so I got daughters on the way
If the prophecy's correct that the child shall have to pay
For the sins of her father so I barter my tomorrows
Against my yesterdays and hope that she'll be okay
And when I'm no longer here to shade her face from the glare
I give up my share of Carol's daughter and a new beach chair”

At 14, I wondered what me and my siblings were paying for.

 A lot of the “sins” of my parents have affected me and my siblings’ lives.  We were/are plagued with depression, incarceration, PTSD, poverty, etc.

We must break these cycles though. We can no longer pay for their past because we can’t afford it. Our peace can’t afford it. Our mental health can’t afford it. Our joy can’t afford it. Our sanity can’t afford it. How I got over… Prayer. And crying. And writing. And friends. And family. And self-reflection. And being honest with myself first and others. Evaluating what we went through and vowing that I wouldn’t put my peoples through it any longer.

No more isolating family members due to their sexual orientation or their appearance.

No more protecting the family pedophiles.

No more calling little girls “fast” or shaming them for their developing bodies.

No more missed opportunities due to not having money.

No more ignoring signs of depression or suicide.

No more making fun of PTSD or fears.

No more shaming our dark skin babies and kin while exalting the lighter skinned ones.

No more going to jail and leaving our babies and families exposed and unprotected.

No more domestic violence.

Not in this house. A few months ago, my niece revealed one of the sources of her fears. She was watching YouTube and a witch appeared on the screen. She immediately became afraid. I soothed her than and I will continue to sooth her fears. That is the only thing I want to be the source of her fears.

If I ever raise my own children, it won’t be in our house. And I can say that because God thrives within me and around me. I can say that because I’ve taken some lessons from Jesus. I can say that because I am attuned with my ancestors and those who got us over. I can say that because I mean that shit. I was able to speak with so much conviction to my niece because I truly believe and will do whatever in my power to ensure that these generational curses won’t affect her. I truly believe that I have divine intervention by my side. My whole life is a case for divine intervention. I can say not in this house because I feel protected, I was able to create a safe space out of all the chaos. I was lifted out of self-doubt and fear and hurt and sorrow and anger. My journey wasn’t easy and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone and no one should have to go through that. So again, I say not in this house. Because God lives here. Peace lives here. Love lives here. Joy lives here. Acceptance lives here. I live here and I am finally able to embody all of that. When you work that hard for that, you want to protect that and share it with others.

I implore you to make it so that it won’t happen in your house, your space, your presence, your mind, your circle, your squad, nowhere.

Not in this house.

Not in this house.

Not in this house.

Things We Need To Stop Doing As A Culture In 2019

Hello folks,

I’ve noticed that among young black millennials, there has been more of a push to heal the transgressions of our ancestors and to rectify our relationships with ourselves and each other. A push to heal, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, to take accountability, to make space for safety, healing, growth, laughter, forgiveness, to be more accepting of ourselves and each other, etc. I love that we are moving towards a more freeing future and as a culture, being more accepting. While I appreciate this new lifestyle, I think we could still use room to grow.

I’ve compiled a list of things we need to stop doing as a culture. This can go for anyone, honestly, but I had these thoughts with black folk in mind.

Stop asking for someones body count regarding sex- MIND YOUR BUSINESS! 

This typically comes into concern when with women. One of the questions in the dating phase is how many people have you had sex with? One’s body count literally has nothing to do with who they are as a person or their value. We attach so much to how many partners one has/had to decipher how valuable they are. Sex is normal and people enjoy engaging in it. What is the benefit of knowing someones body count besides judging them for their decisions? The only thing that is important is their health. “How many bodies?” should be, “when is the last time you were checked?” “Is it OK if I see your results?” “How can we engage in safe sex with reduced risk of catching an STI/STD or pregnancy?” Lets get it on, folks.

Stop shaming women for enjoying sex. 

Women have sex. Women enjoy sex. Women can be freaky. Women can last for rounds. Women can enjoy giving oral sex. Women don’t have to have experience having sex in order to be “freaks”. NORMALIZE WOMEN ENJOYING SEX. Often, I hear conversations about men being surprised that women enjoy sex, a lot of the times its because they can’t fathom women outside of their own enjoyment. Dudes be so shocked women are sexual beings. I say this with young girls in mind as well. Many times, when young girls/teens express that they have a crush or are attracted to the opposite sex, people tend to want to snuff this desire out due, largely, to the idea that girls are pure. Also, in the back of peoples mind, they know that girls/women are susceptible to hurt/abuse by the hands of men and boys. If we are afraid of this, it’s time we stop checking women and girls and start checking men and boys.

Stop using someones weight as a greeting or starter conversation. 

Can we please stop doing this? for real. This isn’t cool and lots of people don’t like it. Listen Aunty, if you’re not willing to pay for a gym membership, my food, and new clothes, then please STFU about my size. Even if you are willing to do that, we need to be more accepting of folks, exactly where they are. I see often times, when plus size models get their shine, people immediately comment on their health. Bigger people deserve to be valued. They deserve to feel loved. They deserve to feel sexy. Keep your unsolicited “advice”/

Shaming women for getting abortions.

We need to stop shaming women for getting abortions. The decision to get one is personal and there are so many different situations that can contribute to this decision. Regardless of our religious, personal or spiritual beliefs, this shouldn’t dictate how we treat women and whether we judge them. Abortions don’t dictate worth, value, whether or not someone is “Wifey Material”, whether someone will be a good mother, a decent human being, or anything. Its a personal decision and we must support instead of shaming. Anything, anyone of us does can be deemed horrible to others so we are at no place to judge others.

We need to stop shaming people for having STI's/STD's

People have sex and people get STD’s. We shame people for having STD’s regardless of their sexuality and their actions. A person can have sex once and they can contract an STD just as someone can have hundreds of partners and never contract one. Its a common thing and we need to normalize it. The more we remove the stigma, the more education and the less people are ashamed to share if they have an STD/STI. People assume that if one contracts one, they are “dirty, or irresponsible when its the complete opposite. If we want more honesty, open communication and less shame, we must be honest with our selves, educate ourselves and be open to communication. This means listening, keeping personal opinions out of conversations, extending empathy to others as we would want someone to extend empathy to us.

Shaming people for not wanting kids

Some people don’t want kids and that’s OK. That’s more than OK. Kids aren’t for everybody and we need to stop making such a big deal if one doesn’t want to bring children into the world or one gives them up for adoption. It is a personal decision and there are so many things that go into why someone doesn’t want children. Childbirth can be traumatic. Children are expensive. Some people don’t want to be responsible for such a huge responsibility. Not everyone desires a replica of themselves. Some people don’t want kids and that’s OK.

Saying “children are acting grown”

Lord, I come humbly before you to ask that you pleaseeeee make our ears ring anytime we think to call a child "grown.” I remember as a child, there were certain things I did, that I was unaware of, that would make others call me acting grown. And it made me feel ashamed. Allow children to be children and lets be a little more tender with how we treat them, how we address them and how we steer their thoughts and behaviors.

Stop shaming ourselves and each other for being too loud in white spaces

F*ck. Outta. Here.

If I must go in, in 2019, lets stop policing ourselves around white folks. White folks do it enough. I grew up putting them on a pedestal and I refuse to stay into adulthood the same way. It is a constant in American culture and the standard around the world. I remember being afraid of how I would be perceived in their spaces. Especially in my professional life. I was first made aware of this while in college in a PWI. We would be doing the most mundane things in their presence and black folk would say “dont laugh too loud, dont talk to loud, etc.” I was supposed to be trained to think twice about wtf we doing, how we do it, how we say it and what we say. FUCK THAT. Laugh, breath, unclench your ass, be. Be. Take up space. Talk how you want. Joke around, let out that loud powerful voice. Allow your soul and being to expand in their space because it is yours, as well. You belong here. You are just as valuable or more. Peace and Love to you.

Throwing our trans brothers and sisters under the bus as a guise for comedy or for validation.

This has to stop. Regardless of our spiritual or religious beliefs, people are dying. Trans women are dying and we are at fault, whether directly or indirectly. People deserve protection, love, support, and to feel safe. Making jokes about how trans women look, their process, their decision. etc. is not okay and we need to stop. We need to support, protect, love fiercely. Especially now. If you are are comfortable with throwing them under the bus for your own validation, you need to explore what it is that makes you uncomfortable within yourself and address that. Protect our brothers and sisters or leave them the fuck alone.

Thank you for coming to my ted Talk.

Are there any other things that we could do as a culture? please drop them in the comments below.

for my peoples who've considered suicide when shit just got too real.

For the last week suicide has been on my mind and in my life. At work, I have to do a presentation. I’ve battled fleeting thoughts of not existing and so much more. What inspired this post the most - A friend from high school celebrated his birthday and in his post he reflected on this past year and listed the contrast between this birthday and the last. Suicide was in the mix and it got me to thinking of those days when I’ve had some deep dark thoughts that I was too afraid to share with others, even my closest friends. I appreciated his candor. I found myself appreciating that he was still here to see it through. It made me reflect on my relationship with one of my mentee’s who have become family. There was so many nights when I’ve had to talk them off the ledge. Had to convince them that they’re worthy. Had to convince them to stay, earth side, despite the fact that they saw no reason to. Today, I am so glad to be able to send them a text. I am so glad they survived. And fought. And lived. And is still living. I am so glad to say that I love you, in the present. It made me reflect on my own battle with death and ideation and I want to reach out to let folks know, I feel you, I see you and I hear you.

As a child, I remember crying myself to sleep every night because the thought of death scared me. I would cry, while praying to God to let me live. The thought of no longer being on earth made no sense to me and I couldn’t imagine life outside of this existence. This went on for months until I found out one of my siblings feared the same thing. And we cried together. Though the thought was still daunting to me, it felt so much better knowing my brother felt the same way. He helped me through it. I am so happy I had someone who knew what I was going through. Who was going through the same thing. Who helped me live through the confusion, the pain, and the strife. I remember crying myself to sleep every night. I remember how bad I wanted to live. I remember how I literally begged for my life as if the grim reaper was in my face. And with all those memories, I am so glad I was able to live past that part of my life.

In contrast, I remember being a first year grad student and getting an ear infection. This ear infection caused me to bleed out my ear, throw up when I swallowed my spit, lose weight, caused an inability to keep my balance, and barred me from society. This was during my Christmas break and I had a lot of time to myself. I had a lot of time to think and to feel my literal ear splitting headaches. I had a lot of time to think of how great it would be to exist no longer. I didn’t have a plan to take my life but I played with the thought of what life could be like, if I existed no more. I was in so much physical pain; I was in so much emotional pain that I thought… it would be great if I could no longer feel this. I prayed through this ordeal, called out to God, begged God for mercy and relief and it seemed to not work. I didn’t think of what it might be like for others. Frankly, I didn’t care. I just knew I wouldn’t have to deal. I endured for three weeks so I can’t imagine a lifetime. I don’t want to. And that was the first time.

The second time and the most enduring time was for the rest of grad school. I remember being so depressed, those thoughts came back to me. Nas’s line in his song whose world is this “I need a new N*gga for these dark clouds to follow, cuz while its over me it’s too dark to see tomorrow” resonated with me so much during this period of my life. It was like my mantra. No matter how much I prayed, no matter how much I cried (which wasn’t much), no matter what, I couldn’t lift myself out of this rut. I couldn’t shake these thoughts of death and what it would be like to no longer exist. One could ask what was my motivation: I had a beautiful niece that I looked forward to learning and growing with. I was looking forward to finally getting my degree and becoming a social worker. I had so much to look forward to yet I couldn’t shake it. I finally told my friends. I finally went to therapy after months of suffering. I finally cried. I finally acknowledged this shit.

I’ve reflected on those times in these post: http://www.aladalove.com/mythoughts/2017/4/4/behind-the-filter

I remember I was told that I am not praying hard enough. Many times people are made to feel guilty to stay here or be faced with the idea of Hell. What difference will this threat make if their reality is already a living hell? Without the fear of being cast into a fiery pit, I was able to be honest with myself, honest with my spirituality, and it was able to help me endure. I was able to cry out in frustration. I was able to pray more honestly. I was able to cry. I was able to forgive myself. My spiritual relationship has been strengthened through it all.

I never took meds for it but I support those that do. There’s nothing wrong with seeking extra help. There’s nothing wrong with exploring your options. There’s no shame in fighting. And I feel you, if you feel like giving up.

I never had a plan to take my life. But I understand those that do. I understand how deeply the hurt can go. Whether physically, emotionally, mentally. Pain is real and its symptoms are vast. It effects each of us differently. A lot of people say those who take their lives or selfish, or cowardly. If you have never been at this point in your life, congratulations.

For those who have, I see you, I hear you. You are valuable. You are worthy. This isn’t to guilt anyone into staying here. Or to guilt anyone into enduring the pain. This is to let you know that things can get better. This is to let you know that it’s good to be on the other side of all the pain. It feels good to see my dreams come to fruition. It feels good to feel loved and be loved. It feels good to be here. I am so happy I survived. I am happy for a chance. And I hope, for your sake if no one else’s, that you are able to find relief. Comfort. Life in the struggle.

Shout out to Ntozake Shange, author of “for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf”, for the inspiration for the title. May she rest in peace. Thank you for your contribution.

Say My Name.

So I realize that a lot of folks shorten their names for the comfort and sake of others, especially when it comes to our names being said out loud. In Starbucks, in classrooms, in work places, damn near everywhere. For people of color concerned that our names are ghetto, too long, uncommon, unique, embarrassing, this definitely fits. I realized that I started shortening my name due to the “labor” of having to tell people how to pronounce and feeling embarrassment or anger when they got it wrong. I was lax on telling people how to address me. It was reflective of me not feeling like I wasn’t deserving of full recognition. It was indicative of me shrinking myself for others.

A few weeks ago, I had a funny, yet, serious conversation with my friends about the origins of our names and some admitted that they didn’t like their names due to it being “ghetto”. I realized we shorten our name to fit the standards of white supremacy, ultimately. There has been a trend of more common names with shorter syllables since the 2000’s among black folks. When asked, many people state that they want their children to have a chance at getting jobs, better opportunities and state they don’t want their children to have ghetto names. Ghetto according to whose standards? To get what jobs? to have better opportunities according to and in comparison to what? to appease who?

This isnt something that is our responsibility but more so, “greater America”. Greater America needs to fix itself if it is scared of a couple of extra syllables, if it is scared of our greatness and what we can bring to the table. I implore greater America to look at itself and do better. Our names arent indicative of our talent,abilities or it just might be and you’re missing out.

I started realizing that this whole “name” thing when I realized I was pronouncing a dear friend’s name wrong. I wondered why he didn’t correct any of us and how he allowed us to call him this for years. I valued this person and I wanted to make sure I addressed him correctly. I asked him what was the proper way to pronounce his name and made it my business to do so

To my people’s,

AIN’T NOTHING WRONG WITH YOUR NAME!

Your name is yours (though ironically, you’re least likely to use it). Your name sets the standard on how to address you. You are wonderfully made and your name is divine, no matter if its common, unique or the first of its name.

I started realizing that I shortened my name for the comfort of others. I started shortening my name as not to cause a stir. I started shortening my name as a way to be more common. There is nothing “common” about me. My presence and my name is a beautiful and I will make sure it is said as correctly as possible. In considering the title of this, I think of the #sayhername movement. I immediately thought of Sandra Bland, who was murdered while in the custody of police in Waller City Texas. I think of how it is important to say her name as to never forget, as to acknowledge her as one of our ancestors, as to honor her and her life.

Sandra Bland.

Sandra Bland.

Sandra Bland.

And of course the amazing Korryn Gaines who was killed in her home by police. Her son was shot as well but survived.

Korynn Gaines

Korynn Gaines

Korryn Gaines.

Make it your business to share your name. Take pride in it. It is part of your identity. Don’t be lax on people who mispronounces your name. This doesn’t mean you have to be mean or rude to the person but there is nothing wrong with reiterating your name. Its about respect. It’s about honor. It’s about autonomy and person hood. Its about empowerment. Lets teach our kids to not be ashamed of their names either. Make it your business to pronounce the names of your friends, first and last! Roll your tongue if you have to. Include the accent. Say a couple extra syllables and burn some calories, aint nothing wrong with it.

Make it your business to address folks with the names they prefer to be called, especially our trans family <3. So much violence falls on them just for existing outside of societal bounds and one of the ways we beat them down is by not respecting their autonomy and their right to say their name and live in what they deem fit and true. Say their names.

Teach the babies to take pride in their names. We have so many children walking around ashamed of their names, essentially ashamed of who they are before they even reach the full of extent of who they are. These children then become adults who are ashamed of an essential part of them. Say their names. <3

Memoirs of pick me.

Growing up and through my teens years, I used to be a "pick me". According to urban dictionary, a pick me is a "A person who begs for the attention, acceptance and approval of a certain group in different things they say. In most case, it's to attain the attention, acceptance and approval of the opposite sex." More plain: 

Lord, as I look back at those days I am ashamed. Some examples of my pick me behaviors and sayings were: 

Shakes head in shame:

Someone shouldve told me to STFU. 

Like stfu, yo. And who likes their own status? 

Signs your a pick me if you say ish like this: 

"I only hang out with dudes because girls bring too much drama".
Now, I grew up in a household full of boys so I easily identified with stuff that boys were into and desperately wanted to be like my brothers as a young girl. I had an all white room with barbie doll comforters and pink sheer curtains and pink and white this and that but my brothers always judged my worth on how tough I was and whether or not I was able to fight and whether or not I could do what they did so that is what was valuable to me. Thus, I was dubbed a tomboy  and  in school, that's who I hung out with the most.  HOWEVER, I had some dope girlfriends and def met one of the dopest in 6th grade who still stands as my first best friend to this day. However, I wasn't a unicorn and no doubt many girls grew up watching wrestling, playing with Pokemon cards, throwing footballs and playing with action figures. No doubt, many girls were into things that I wasn't into. Yes, sometimes, there was drama I wasn't fond of, HOW EVA, doesn't mean I wasn't into drama and it definitely wasn't an excuse to stay away from girls, it was more so a way for me to identify with my guy friends, ultimately throwing my girl counterparts under the bus. 

"If I were to have a kid, I want it to be a boy because girls do too much" 

SIDE EYE! Throwing my fellow women/girls under the bus is not conducive to my growth. (IF I WANTED KIDS) How could I not want a little me? Girls are dope af, as evidenced by my dope nieces and the amazing little girls I know. The hardships in raising a girl stem from the idea that girls have attitudes that are too hard to deal with  and girls can end up being "hoes" and the fact that I'd have to protect her from Boys and men! 

Concerning yourself with the opinions, emotions of men/boys. A man aint gonna marry you if (insert whatever here) or "why would he want the cow if he could get the milk for free?"

Older generations are so guilty of imposing these ideologies on girls since birth who then grow into women who want to impress a man so bad, we'll put our dreams on hold in hopes of obtaining a partner. Well put our self image in their hands and try to do whatever to seem more attractive. Well live our whole existence trying to impress guys. Guys are nurtured to be selfish, and focus on their goals, while we are nurtured to focus on them. Little brother, one of the greatest hip hop groups said it best in their single Breakin' my heart ft. Lil Wayne : "I aint saying that its right but we often pay the price, cuz a woman's life is love, a mans love is life, and he gon' live it to the fullest." 

The dangers of a pick me:

Why is this an issue? Because being a pick me is being subservient to men. Because being a pick me means that I'm throwing women and girls under the bus. Because being a pick me means I'm working against my best interests. Because being a pick me allows misogynoir, ostracism, bullying, and so much more, further separating us from each other. Because being a pick me means I'm going hard for men/boys who wont exert the same energy for me. When black women are dying at the hands of their partners, are being harassed in the street, their image being policed and duplicated with no credit or protection, the first people to show up are usually other black women. Because being a pick me shows that I'm insecure and willing to throw another woman under the bus in an attempt to elevate my status. And any man who would talk bad about other women and puts stipulations on their respect for women based on whatever non nonsensical measurement, isn't the one for me anyway.  Because even after I throw my fellow women under the bus, rarely do I ever, If ever, get picked. When I see women online or in person, rarely do I ever see that they get what they're fishing for. They remain single or have to hid their partner, don't get any support outside of comments on pictures and still remain un - picked. And even if that is the case, they still take shots at other women which tells me they are unhappy, still. These women typically try and convince other women to lower their standards (whether asking for protection, security, stability, attractiveness, respect, you know shit that one should expect out of a relationship) and go for the bare minimum of what men have to offer. The dangers in putting this responsibility on women is that it doesn't force men to step up their game to reach these standards that would no doubt benefit them as well. We also have to stop throwing trans women under the bus in attempt to elevate our status. ITS NOT COOL AND ITS COMPLETELY DISGUSTING. Our Trans sisters, especially black women, are dying at alarming rates and this continues to be the case every year. ALL women deserve respect, love, admiration, protection and should feel secure in their skin and in their communities. If you do this, STOP. You are literally contributing to their death, physically and emotionally. Call it out when you see it and protect them at all cost. 

Thank God for growth. 

Leave your comments, thoughts, etc. below please! Thanks for checking me out! 

Trigger warning

* I started this piece on Jan 14th  and am just now finding enough strength to finish it.*

Hello everyone. Let me be as forthcoming as ever to say that this piece is going to explore, patriarchy, sex and sexual abuse, hence the title, trigger warning. This piece aims to explore the complex relationship between all three and hope to aim for some healing for those of us who survived sexual abuse and struggle with self worth even, years later. 

Ight so boom, according to the most trusted educational tool that students depend on, Wikipedia, patriarchy  - "according to sociology, patriarchy is a social system in which males hold primary power and predominate in roles of political leadership, moral authority, social privilege and control of property."

In short, male views and ideologies rule the world. In shorter short, this is a mans world. Women are largely impacted by this "mans world" in many ways. As the definition pointed out, politically, socially, etc. Sex is a big one and is made to be a pivotal part in relations between men and women. Women are taught that sex is something to please men or "control" men. Women are constantly shamed for enjoying sex or even having sex. Girls are shamed for showing signs of any sexuality.  This is one of the reasons why people hold on to being virgins for so long. The more we engage in sex, especially with men, the more we are devalued. Once we engage with men, we are considered lower, less worthy. Wouldn't that speak so to men's value then women's? And for women who have sex with  other women, their sex lives aren't even legitimized unless she has had interactions with  a penis first. I've known so many guys to be shocked that women actually watch and enjoy porn. They're shocked that teens/women actually masturbate because they cant imagine that we would actually enjoy pleasure without them. Teen girls are taught to keep their legs closed while teen boys are encouraged to get in between as many as possible. If a teen girl has sex, she is seen as "fast, grown, etc" and no longer looked at as valuable or precious. This allows her to be demonized in her community, abroad and can create turmoil within herself. This is even more so felt by black girls/women. The first sign of puberty allows this demonizing to begin, even if she isn't interested in sex. This double standard often puts boys and men on  a pedestal which allow them to dictate the worth of girls and women which then dictates our self worth. This is where we see words like "good girl, wifey, wifey material, etc" vs. "hoes, thots, sluts, etc" but either group can easily become a "bitch" if we aren't pleasing the male gaze, infatuation and when we no longer play their game. The common denominator is men. Keep that in mind, by the way. 

Now all of this mixed with the demeaning act of rape, sexual assault, coercion... and all hell breaks lose and lots of tears fall. In this hell is constant lack of self worth, embarrassment, shame and blaming, often times blaming ourselves for this. For allowing it to happen. For being there. For wearing that. For saying that. For not saying anything at all. For not fighting back. For keeping our mouths shut during and after. For calling them back. For still hanging around them. For still seeking their validation. For never being the same again. For depression. For suicide. For not protecting the little girl inside of us. For not being deemed protection worthy. For it all. This experience and painful memories often intrude on ones desire to have sex. There's so much trauma that comes with surviving sexual assault and or molestation.  Yes, Surviving. This, mixed with the shame that is already associated with having sex makes it less pleasurable and more like a weapon to be used to demonize and ostracize. Teens girls are constantly shamed for having sex and many times, I've heard stories where teenagers and women engaged in sex, not because they wanted to but they felt pressured too. Many women often say they regret their first time, as it often stemmed from pressure instead of pleasure and we're taught to use our bodies as bargaining chips and not something to be valued for ourselves, always through the eyes of men. And never, ever for own desires. From early age, we are taught to please men. From our dress, to our looks, to our voice, to our presence. We are taught to sit pretty and quietly, we are taught to be small and take up as little intellectual and physical space as possible. To allow the men and boys to rule and dictate. We are taught to dress modestly in hopes of attracting a man who will take care of us. Please men. Put your self second. Don't even explore yourself yet unless a man or boy has had a hand in your development and growth. This breeds generations of insecure girls/women eager to please boys/men at the expense of our own bodies, minds, sanity, etc. hoping to get picked, hoping to be a prize. This means pressure, even when you don't want to, shutting up even when you disagree, going along though your gut says otherwise, riding or dying. Death isn't foreign whether physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. Domestic violence runs rampant in the black community. 

How do we break this?

Empower young girls and women with confidence and self esteem that stem from within. Praise them and yourself (because a lot of us are still working on us) for their qualities that make them unique. There's nothing wrong with praising one for their looks, but personality traits are just as important, if not more. European beauty standards are bullshit, step away from that because the world doesn't revolve around them.

Teach boys/men to respect all girls/women and learn that we are not for your consumption.  Also realize that because one doesn't fit the mold of what you deem respectful, doesn't mean they aren't deserving of respect. Self awareness is p-i-v-o-t-a-l and calling out your crew is fucking necessary. Disrespecting  and allowing disrespect on your watch continues to allow the perpetuation to continue. It stops with you. 

Sex can be healthy and fun for all parties involved. One, we must take the shame away from sex itself. Sex doesn't have to be used as a weapon and definitely shouldn't be used to measure your self worth. Yes, sharing your body with someone can be one  of the most vulnerable things you can do with yourself and with someone. However, clear communication, exploration and comfortability can really make sex more enjoyable.

 CONSENT. This should've been number one. We must respect peoples individual decisions to either abstain or engage. Coercion is not OK! No means no, simply and those of us who say "no" have to be comfortable in our no or learn to be comfortable in our "no". If your mind, body, etc. is rejecting this interaction for whatever reason, it's more then OK to go with that feeling. I know often times, people say yes or silently go along with an uncomfortable situation in fear of violence, being ostracized, desire to please or whatever other reason. No means no. Respect it. 

Sex education is important, af. Educating ourselves and more vulnerable populations about the importance of protection and consent and their options are essential in stopping the spread of diseases. Making a more informed decision empowers the one who engages and allows them to make a choice. We must also stop stigmatizing STD's/ HIV, etc. People of color, especially black people are largely effected by the spread of these diseases. We cannot afford to be silent, we cant afford to be ashamed any more, it is literally hurting and killing us. One is not "dirty", "unworthy" etc. because they have contracted disease/s. Many different circumstances lead to why one can get this and none of them should cause us to suffer in silence. Its way more common then we think. Take the shame away so we can free ourselves. 

Sexual liberation is more than just about having sex "all willy nilly" but not being ashamed of enjoying sex. Women are placed on these pedestals and only stay there until male gaze deems her unfit. When we promote sexual liberation and step away from respectability politics, we create a more free environment that allows people to be their authentic selves. This allows people to seek help without shame, be free without hiding and policing themselves in fear of backlash or isolation. This allows body autonomy which we all have a right to. No more hiding, no more shame, no more pain. 

Healing is on the way. 

Please feel free to add other things you feel we could do as a culture to liberate ourselves and each other. 

Thank you so much for reading. Much love!

hella human.

Happy new year yall!

Ive taken a long hiatus because I haven't had the passion to write lately. Or passion for anything, honestly. A series of events happened in life and it caused me to want to self preserve. Anything that caused me to reflect or acknowledge feelings made me uncomfortable and I didn't want to be uncomfortable. I didn't want to acknowledge any pain I've felt, any abandonment I've felt, I didn't want to acknowledge anything. I just wanted to go to work, inspire the kids at my job to be their best self (while neglecting me) come home, eat, sleep and repeat. And I did.  I didn't want to think to hard about anything. I wanted to experience a sense of "normalcy".

Shit got boring. And ignoring parts of myself became painful. I was coasting but I had finally hit something rough and had to look up and see all that was around me.

When things happen in your life that throws off your balance, we, especially me, dont allow ourselves to feel it in its entirety. This includes traumatic experiences, separations, loss, etc. I know my response is to keep going and that's more so a survival tactic than anything else. When I really allow myself to acknowledge pain or anything "negative", it hurts and I prefer to not have that gut wrenching, heart palpitating, sting under my arm, slight headache and heat that overcomes me. Id rather watch the office instead, because its "safe" and I dont have to think and feel. (If nextflix were to ever remove the office, Im suing them.)

As a social worker, its so easy for me to motivate others or to acknowledge the beauty in others but when it comes time to do for me... I easily put myself on the back burner or when it comes time to acknowledge real shit... we shrink and cower behind everything else. And getting motivation or getting on the right track in life isnt easy at all.

I had a convo with my great friend, Tiffany, who also wrote this dope ass piece a few months ago: http://www.aladalove.com/self-love-1/2017/10/13/unpacking-your-sht

The convo went from a simple question about exercising to me crying lmao.

I feel like, at times, because were not feeling our best or doing our best, we feel like shit. And its different when mental health or finances can be the reason for the lack of motivation or advancement. I wanted to create this post for many reasons but I really wanted to share this in hopes that it'll inspire someone who may be having a difficult time with self image, their feelings, their goals, etc.

You are human. You are deserving. Its okay to engage in self preservation. Its okay to take time. Its okay to say no. its okay to cry. its okay to not have all the answers, sway. Its okay to not be okay.

So here's to giving yourself time. Allowing some peace. And striving for perseverance.

Happy new year yall! We're blessed with the opportunity to still be here and strive for greatness. Im looking forward to what aladalove will produce and thank you to all those who have been rocking with a G. Yall are much appreciated.

Alada traveling: Lada's travel stories

I was prompted to do a post about my traveling stories. Below, I detail my motivation for traveling. I can say that traveling is one of the things I am very passionate about. Ive recently gone on some solo trips for the first time in ever and I will be writing more about that in future post.  Below is my traveling trails from 2012 to 2017. Its been an amazing 6 years with some dope folks and places.

I caught the travel bug in 2012.

NEW ORLEANS - January 2012

My sophomore year of college, I had this dope opportunity to go to New Orleans as part of an organization called Operation Southern Comfort. Operation Southern Comfort started out in September 2005 after Hurricane Katrina. Operation Southern Comfort made 50 week-long trips to the Gulf Coast between January 2006 and July 2013 with the mission to rebuild houses and restore lives. Volunteers from high schools and colleges participated and through a campus club named B.O.N.D. (Brothers of a New Direction) that I was part of, I got the opportunity. The trip took a day and a half by van and we slept overnight in a church. We also managed not to kill each other. While in New Orleans, we were introduced wonderful families, some dope kids and sexyyyy food! We got a home cooked meal every night while we were there (shout out to Reisie). Most days, we worked on homes and met people who shared their stories about Hurricane Katrina but for one day we got to tutor these amazing children that grew up in the 9th ward. Some were just babies when Katrina hit and others weren't even born. It was an eye opening experience. It solidified my passion for working with children and made me realize, I haven't really traveled anywhere. As a kid, my family and I visited my relative in North Carolina, but that stopped after a certain age. I got to visit Florida once in my life for about a month but stayed in a house 97.9 % of the time. I just KNEW a gator was going to come snapping at my feet. After New Orleans, I decided that I would travel again, but where?

WASHINGTON DC - AUGUST 2012

For some reason, Washington D.C. was calling a G. At first I thought it would be a solo trip but when I told my friend Andreya about it, she was down for the cause. What solidified us actually going on the trip, though, was the death of recent Le Moyne Graduate, Matt Shaw.

Matt had just graduated with his Bachelor of Science in Business Administration and Finance. The night of July 4th, while minding his damn business, he was shot and killed in his very own hood, Harlem, NY. He was headed to SUNY Albany to pursue his masters in Economics and his life had been senselessly cut short.

  Matt and I weren’t best friends but him and a lot of upperclassmen were in integral part in making us underclassmen feel welcome when I began my college career. We'd randomly see each other in Harlem during school breaks and when we saw each other at school, we'd engage in the usual banter as many minority students sat together while in the dining room. A lot of us were from NYC and we took care of each other. I was on my way to junior year and he had just graduated. His death hit me hard and inspired me to finally pay for the trip.  So in August of 2012, we hopped on the Boltbus and stayed in Washington for 3 days. We had a blast riding the Trolley, visiting the usual landmarks and museums, enjoying each other’s company and realizing that at 20, we were taking control of our happiness. It cost us about $130 for the hotel and roundtrip there and back.  I resolved that I'd take my little coins I'd saved up from working in the dining hall and tutoring on the weekends to put towards traveling somewhere I'd never been at least once a year. 

NEW ORLEANS JUNE 2013

I had the opportunity to go on another service trip to New Orleans through my college, this time with an organization called L.E.A.P (Literacy empowers all people). LEAP was a joint project of Le Moyne and All Souls Episcopal Church in the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans. The goal of the LEAP program was to assist All Souls Church in its desire to make sure the children got all they needed to succeed in school, despite the huge performance gap between poor children of color and other children in the United States. Largely, due to fundraising, I was able to go on the trip. Similar to the first time I went to New Orleans, I traveled with a group of about 10. Most of us in this group wanted to be teachers and this trip would be a great experience for it. We'd spend a week teaching and being camp counselors to a large group of kids, ages 3-16, from one of the poorest neighborhoods in the United States. It was an eye opening experience and I was humbled.

Atlanta - August 2013

 That same summer, Andreya and I picked Atlanta. Andreya's aunt lived down there so we decided we’d stay with her. We were too broke to afford anything else so we took an 18 hour Greyhound trip to ATL. With stiff necks, newly formed arthritis and level 7 contortionist abilities, we arrived in Atlanta. The trip took us out because we slept the first day away lol. We did the usual touristy stuff, avoided the allure of Magic City, and attended an Atlanta Braves baseball game just for the heck of it. Of course the southern hospitality has us always saying that we need to go back.

Puerto Rico - July 2014

The next year, I went with a different group of friends to San Juan Puerto Rico. This was my first time on a plane and I was sccccccuuuuured out my mind! The worst thing to do is google your fears and that's the first thing I did lol.

We stayed for 5 days and visited El Junque Rainforest, ate food from the side of the road (it tastes better according to my boy's barber), visited Viejo San Juan, did the beach thing a few days and so much more. On our last night, which was a Monday, we visited Club La Respuesta. YOOO! This club is hands down, one of, if not, THE BEST CLUB, I've ever been too. The music consisted of Hip Hop, R&B, Reggae and the crowd was as diverse as ever. (Noted by this 40 + year old Abercrombie and Fitch reject that kept on trying to dance with me and then got offended when I had to extend my fore arm to tell him to "ease up") There was real live break dancing happening right before my eyes. It was like being back in high school during the "get lite" movement or being an extra in a "You Got Served Twice”. I was hypeeee.

Jamaica - June 2015

The next year, I went to Jamaica as part of a 2 week service trip. I was set to graduate college finally lol so I didn't think it would be possible for me to go due to liability reasons. I also thought I didn't have the funds to go and the deadline to apply had already passed. One of my great friends were already going on the trip and while talking on Facebook, she had mentioned it. In like 2.5 seconds we concocted a diabolical plan to get me to Jamaica lol.  The service trip included spending 2 weeks at a school in Kingston volunteering with the teachers and interacting with the kids. The next day we went together to present the idea to one of the coordinators of the trip. She encouraged me to apply and I was psyched when I found out I was accepted. Because I was broker then a Joker, I ended up doing some fundraising. Someone had anonymously donated a huge sum of money for me to go on the trip. The other, most amazing thing was, I received some money from the Matt Shaw scholarship fund at my school. It was put in place shortly after his death. Per the website "this fund will level the playing field so that all students, regardless of their economic circumstances, can participate in programs that strengthen the education they receive at Le Moyne." 3 years later, Matt was blessing me.  Donate here at http://www.dolphinsonline.org/s/445/index-1Col.aspx?pgid=2475&gid=1&cid=3779

My trip to Jamaica was EVERYTHING. The best thing was spending time with the children. They were so fun to be around, always joking though the circumstances under which they lived was horrible. I miss those kids so much and still think about them til’ this day. (Shout out to Lionel)

Albany, NY - 2015

One of the greatest trips I’ve ever made was to the University at Albany which I attended for grad school in 2015 and graduated in 2017!

New Orleans July 2016

My mother used to order Essence magazine subscriptions when I was growing up and I used to see their Essence Music Festival advertisements. I mentioned it to Andreya a few years back and was like “yo, we gotta make it here.” Of course she was down for the cause and so were my other girls. Before this, the times that I've gone to New Orleans was for service trips; I never really got the full extent of New Orleans life. We paid a little under $500 for hotel and flight from July 3rd to the 6th. IT WAS LIT and is highly recommended. New Orleans Food is life. Bourbon Street is err thang, Beignets from Café Du Monde makes you wanna slap yo’ mamma and overall atmosphere is smooth. The Essence festival, usually held in the Mercedes Benz Superdome, was great too.

Washington D.C. - March 2017

 I absolutely had to visit the Smithsonian African American Museum. I heard that tickets were hard to come by but took chances anyway. Andreya and I plotted on this museum almost 5 years before when we visited.

The above pic was taken back in August, 2012 during our trip.

Andreya didn’t come on this trip but my homie, Willie, did. We were determined to get in though we got locked out of the online tickets. The walk up tickets were being given out at 1pm but we decided to start standing on line right before 11am and before we knew it, the people who worked outside gave us 2 tickets to get in. The museum is beautiful, capturing so much of African American History. Though it was overwhelming, it was very informative. I would strongly encourage everyone to go.

Philly -April 2017

Philly was calling a G so I decided to answer for my 25th birthday =). We took the Megabus which ended up being only $20 round trip and stayed in Apple Hostel which was only $60 over the weekend. I had a whole list of things I wanted to do but the most important was trying an authentic Philly cheese steak and climbing the rocky steps at the Philadelphia museum of art. We did none of them lol. 1)  Because I ate too much meat when I first arrived so I was kind of over it and then 2) because the NFL draft just hadddddddddddddd to be that weekend -_-. I’ll be making a trip back though. We did Hookah, toured different neighborhoods, went to the African American Museum and had mad fun.

25 was lit.

Stay tuned for my next post about my summer travels to Denver Colorado as part of E.L.K, my solo trip to Virginia Beach and my solo trip to Boston to see Joey Badass, VIP!!

Alada thoughts on accountability, healing, solitude and reciprocity

Hey lovely people,

It's been some timeeeeeeeee since the last time. But I am so glad that I still have the means to keep up this domain and this amazing space. Aladalove.com has been virtually alive for a year this past august and I am always amazed at the love and support it has received. I cant thank you all enough.

Here are some reflections since graduation, this past summer and currently.

Accountability

I've had to hold myself accountable for myself and the weight of that was heavy. sounds weird right? lol. Yes, I've always had to hold myself accountable, even before adulthood. However, my identity has been tied into school for so long and I've been going to school for so long that me, without, was new. And scary but also exciting. I've often said this summer, its like I'm tight roping over a high cliff and I cant see below me but I'm holding on firmly and I do feel guided by God.

I've had to come to terms with the fact that my relationship with my parents and family, is what it is. It is a unique relationship and I've had to come to terms with their inaction or their inability to love and support me the way I needed and wanted to be loved. Its still hard for me to accept it as it is. As an adult, I crave the support and attention that one SHOULD get from their parents. I crave the protection and security that one should feel and know from their parents.

So in regards to accountability, I had to hold myself accountable (as I always have) but every time an accomplishment is made and the ones you want there, aren't, you gotta show up for yourself, again and again and though its triumphant, it can be emotional too. I don't think you really get over it, I think you just adjust to it.

Showing up for yourself, by yourself, is often tiring. This is not to say I am not grateful for my amazing friends and the folks who do check in with me, this is to say that I am missing a void of the folks that's SUPPOSED to check in. No one is obligated to you like your parents are.

Healing

 This really got me to thinking about what healing looks like for me. There are many things we cant control, especially how others treat you but you can control your response to the treatment. Ive had to learn this early on in life and am still learning. This is part of my ways to keep my sanity and maintain my freedom.

Me exploring the ways in which healing is beneficial to me is understanding that I have a right to be mad, angry, sad, heartbroken, etc. I think often when we feel "negative" emotions, we are encouraged or it is almost demanded of us that we "get over it". Many times we aren't even allowed to feel the full extent of our emotions unless they coincide with happiness. As Solange would say, youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu have a right to be mad. SB: she dropped that album as such an amazing, pivotal time. Shout out to you Solange.

I think I'm still in this process and exploring what it means to me and how it looks to me. I have to remember that healing takes time, its not immediate and requires a lot from me. In this day to day life, its so easy to neglect yourself and remain stagnant in a lot of areas of life, which include emotional development, being stagnant in our jobs, place of residence, etc. Seeking healing in the first place, is a huge step to make. We often hold on to our hurt because its familiar, we never got a sorry or the attempt at reconciliation wasn't to our standards. I'm learning what healing looks like for me, without the pain, and without the sorry's and empty attempts at reconciliation. It's real out chea, but possible. 

Solitude 

I remember being so afraid of being alone. (physically alone) my brothers used to scare the shit out of me so I was always afraid of the dark. Some traumatic experiences also happened in the dark, which, I guess, contributes to why I disliked it. Law and order SVU didn't help either though, lol. I notice, now though, that I appreciate being alone and really appreciate my space. That's a huge change for me. This was marked by me taking solo trip this past summer to Virginia beach and went camping with some amazing kids in Denver Colorado. (shout out to ELK!)  I've never went on a vacation, alone. I was scared out of my mindddddddddddd lol. It was to the point where I kept feeling this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was like this is it, this is the reason I cant go. But my friends was like, "na you're going on this trip" to the point where my friends dad paid for my shelter lol. My OG's was like, "listen, you're good. Go." So I went. And I'll be doing it again. Being alone was everything and I'm happy I've finally been able to embrace being alone. (This comes with stipulations of course lol, cuz ill still check behind a shower curtain or under a bed before feeling completely safe)  but still.

Reciprocity

This has always been a theme in my life since my teenage years. I thrive off of reciprocity and I am grateful when I receive it. I peep that what I put into the universe definitely comes back to me, even if I'm not ready to receive it and even if I don't know what to do with it. Or feel I don't deserve it. I am grateful for those who stood by a G knowing that I ain't perfect and am at fault a lot of times. Knowing that I'm still feeling around in the dark, too. Knowing that I am worthy of attention, affection, care, protection, guidance, love, security, celebration, healing, forgiveness, and so much more. Knowing that I am not a "one time" thing. Knowing that I take work and patience, and understanding. Deciding to come back to me. Deciding to confide in me. Deciding to grow with me. Deciding to trust me. Knowing that I will disappoint them. Knowing that I will upset them. Knowing that I may make them sad. But knowing that I don't ever mean to hurt them and in the event that I do, I will do what it takes to restore their love and trust in me. I appreciate the souls who pour into me. Effortlessly. Naturally. Consistently. without ever ceasing. I appreciate all the souls who've been able to reciprocate what I give even when they aren't used to getting it. Y'all are dope af and that makes me dope af. 

As I'm navigating through these reflections, I gotta remember to allow myself to grow. Learn. Feel. And be. That's all I'm willing to do right now and I'm cool with that. I remember times, I didn't think I'd make it this far in life... like actually see life after graduation. I gotta say though, its been lit.

Oh, snap!, I graduated.

So, tomorrow makes a whole week that I graduated. People keep asking me how I feel lol. I guess it hasn't hit me yet. Since then, I've been sleeping, Hulu'ing, flexing on the net and resting up. It's weird lol, Ive been in go mode for the last 20 years in regards to being a student and working for the last 10 so.... I'm long overdue for a nap. Before the graduation, people kept asking me if I was excited and I couldn't honestly say that I was. While I was happy that things were finally coming to an end, I was sad that none of my immediate family members hadnt made it their business to come to my graduation. I even struggled about reflecting on this or addressing it to said family members but its my reality so here goes.

I have an amazing village. Absolutely amazing. Terrific. Ive been blessed with some dope people in my life that have become family. In all honesty, many in my village would come before many of my biological family members and that's facts, no printer but I could print that out if need be.

Now, though I have an amazing village, IDC how old you are, you still want the support of your family, especially your parents and siblings. The fact that not one had made it their absolute business to be there really hurt. I have a parent that have never been to any of my graduations. There's people that, it wouldn't matter where I was located in this world, how much or little resources I had, I would make sure I was there or I would try my damnest. If I'm in china and their bday is coming soon, I'm googling how long its going to take me to row or walk there. I would make sure they knew how important they were to me, even if I couldnt make it. Though this is not a new occurrence with my family, it always stings when it comes to situations similar to this. And you know what, I had to decide that there's nothing wrong with calling it out, reflecting on it, healing from that hurt, etc. So often, we dismiss our negative feelings towards our family members off the strength of them being blood or family. Standards of respect, consideration, health, happiness, etc. that we'd usually impose upon others go ignored because we are taught that you have to accept family, no matter the circumstances. NAH SON. There's many of us holding on to hurt from years ago, many of us feeling alienated at family gatherings, demeaned by older family members, feeling guilt because we didn't want to come to someones bday and felt obligated to do thingsthat make us uncomfortable, that makes us angry, hurt us deeply. And still, off strength that their family, we will put ourselves through the fire to maintain some faux, strained connection. I SAW NAH SON! I know a dope social worker that always encourages folks to: "Unpack your sh*t". Here's a few tips I have for doing just that. Identify that hurt, shame, embarrassment, anger, etc. If its safe with no means of physical threat, try and address that which hurts you the most. Hold yourself and others accountable. And at the end of the day, you cant ultimately change folks. Despite all of that, folks will be just who they are and that's on them. Growth is not a guarantee and you have to decide to move forward despite them acknowledging unpackingtheir sh*t. Upholding toxic relationships, customs, etc. off the strength of family is not okay. Suffering in silence is not okay. Not holding folks accountable is not okay. Compromising your mental, emotional and physical health is not okay.

NOW!.

That almost stopped my celebration. But my village didn't allow that to happen, as they never do. SHOUT OUT TO DINIQUA, ANDREYA, DEBORAH, BRYANT, K.C., GLORIA, MORIAH, MATRESA, ASIANA, ARLENE and CASSONDRA. I've meet these folks through my education, from elementary all the way up to grad school and they've been rolling with a G since. Some took off work, some traveled from other states, some came after the graduation but all were just grateful to celebrate with me. Some had tickets and some waltzed right up in the spot like "who gon' check me boo?" because they wasn't going to miss me walking for nothing and I appreciate that from the bottom, top, edges and midsection of my heart.

Let me tell y'all bout my village. Let me tell y'all about true finessin'.

Nini caught ebola to be there. Dreya dyed my hair and turned her fingertips red, temporarily. Deb took off work and got there just in the nick of time like she always does. Bryant drove from outta state to witness the greatness. K.C. took 7 hours to and from to come through for a G. Gloria drove from out of state right after work like a boss. Tresa came through to the dinner with the dopest, cutest note. Moriah was the one who was like who gon' check me boo, right after work and went right to work, afterwards. Asiana left a graduation and drove to the after dinner and dead hung out til 2 o'lock in the mornting eating ice cream with us. Arlene had a whole brother who graduated. A whole brother. She departed from fam' to congratulate me. Lil ol' grandma Mabes. Cassondra appeared like "I'm in town and wanna come through, wassup?" which was a pleasant surprise.

And I have so many other amazing folks that make up my village, near and far like my Le Moyne community, folks from renaissance, folks back home, folks I met randomly and folks Ive known for a long time... IM BLESSED.To anyone who has ever been pat of my village and welcomed me into theirs, THANK YOU!

And shout out to the SOCIAL WELFARE PROGRAM FOR LITERALLY BE THE LITTEST, LIVEST, DOPEST SCHOOL AT GRADUATION!! Shout out to the folks in the program who got me through internship, who helped me get over, frolicked with me in the park to stabilize our mental health, who supported me at events, who gave me constructive criticism, who held me accountable, who made me laugh, who allowed me to awkwardly cry in front of them, who literally helped me survive this crazy ordeal. Y'all are so real.

I say all that to say that my though all my trials and tribulations, there was always someone there supporting a G. I can recall at every point in my life, I was always blessed with someone to carry me a long. I may not have had all of who I wanted there but I've had all of who I needed there. I've been blessed with cheer leaders, body guards, sisters, mothers, teachers, social workers, psychologist, accountants when need be and so much more.

Shout out to my village who supports me, calls me out on my ish, mirrors my passion and motivates me when I'm not feeling the best... y'all are everything and I am appreciative.

Thank you. Thank God, for ALWAYS, ALL WAYS, looking out for a G.

August 13th, 2015.

Behind The Filter

Hello Folks,

I hope all is well with you all. Its been a LONGGGG TIME and I have a lot to share with you all. Most of this bit is about the depression and anxiety I've faced in the year or so and how I've began to come out of "the sunken place". I hope this reflection brings people who are going through similar experiences some form of hope and I hope those who have never dealt with depression can began to understand how it impacts others lives and how its not easy to simply just "get out" of it. Like what I did there?? ;) lol (in reference to the movie "Get out" by Jordan Peele. If you haven't seen it, skkkkkrrrrrrrrrrrrrrong suggestion that you do).

Depression: Depression is a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest.

Anxiety: a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome:

The first time I remember dealing with depression was when I was around 10 - 12 years old. At that point, my older brothers had left the house and I felt insecure, physically and emotionally. They had left to live with our biological family while myself and younger brother stayed with our foster mom who had adopted us. All of the protection and togetherness that I had for years was suddenly taken away from me and what made it worst was that, my older brothers were inconsistent with their contact with us. I felt abandoned and vulnerable. I was also dealing with the fact that I had been sexually abused which I didn't finally speak up and tell someone until I was in middle school. I swore I would take it to the grave. This is actually the first time I am being open about it online without alluding to it. I was easily irritated, cried a lot and was very insecure about my body and who I was at the moment. There were days I'd wake up and feel as though a dark cloud was constantly above me and wouldn't wane, no matter what I tried.

Kindergarten graduation and College Graduation photos.

The second time I remember dealing with depression was when I was in college, sophomore year. I was emotionally and physically drained all the time. I didn't care about my grades. My sibling had been shot and I felt like everything was slipping away from me. Our relationship wasn't as it used to be and though my mind was supposed to be in the books, it was constantly somewhere else. What if something happened to my family? I didn't care about my grades, I just needed to pass. I wanted to always sleep and felt tired even when I slept for long hours. Depression also looked like neglecting my self and feeding my body horrible food which did nothing for my mood and health. Someone told me that I should go to the wellness center at my school and talk to a professional. Though I was reluctant, I went anyway. My first experience was horrible. I felt like the person I spoke to wasn't genuine. I was turned off by my experience but not completely. Something told me to go back and I made sure to ask for a different person to speak to. I was so glad I made that decision because she helped me overcome my depression as well as pointed out some things to me that I didn't realize about myself. This, along with my faith and support from friends and family helped me to defeat depression at the time.

Now, before I go on, I have to explain this. My faith in God and in spirituality was not gone during these times. Having depression and anxiety, doesn't mean that I don't believe in God or that I "don't pray hard enough" FOH. No where in the bible or in life does it say that people wont go through hardship just because they believe in God or believe in something other than themselves. Life is all about hardships, joy, triumphs, etc. It is truly about how you respond to a situation that makes the difference in how you will receive and grow from the situation. In regards to depression and anxiety, some people respond in different ways. Life experiences has taught me, as well as pursuing social work, that NO ONE'S LIFE IS THE SAME. We have all walked different paths in life so it is unwise of me to assume that everyone will have the same ideologies or have the same understanding as I do. However, for the sake of co existence, we follow a set of laws or behaviors that'll allow us to live amongst each other.  We are still learning to accept each other for whom everyone is and I believe that that'll always be one of our greatest struggles. The way in which we can do so is to strive for understanding, patience and respect. I say all that to say that no ones life is the same so when one says "just pray about it" or "be thankful you woke up this morning" or "it could be worse", it doesn't help. Yes, those things are true but those things aren't helpful to all. Depression persists and insist and sometimes you can catch it early before it takes over and other times you will have to ride the wave, for however long it lasts.

I began to ride the 3rd wave of depression while starting graduate school. My move to Albany was a drastic change from what I was used to in my undergrad.  

Look at me, all excited and unsuspecting of all the horrors that await me. lol

I was used to being in a community of people who knew me. I was used to having an idea and making things happen. I was used to moving how I wanted and taking advantage of opportunities that fed my passion. In grad school, it wasn't like that. I've met some amazing individuals who have helped me along this time who I know will be lifetime homies, but the majority of this ride, I was alone. I moved 3 times within the last 2 years. I am constantly separated from my support system and working a part time job, going to school full time and having an internship that you have to commit to, is no easy journey. Many times you will neglect what is important to you. I felt like and still feel as though I am in go mode. I have to keep my head down and keep moving lest I stop and the wave overcomes me. Throughout this time, I wasn't devoid of faith but I began to question things, avoid it and neglect it. I wasn't nurturing my relationship with God and I felt that not mentioning my faith would allow me to be all inclusive of the people that were in my life and along with my profession. NAH, SON.

I had to come to the realization that my faith is part of me. It makes up who I am and it has been a huge part of what has allowed me to not only survive, but THRIVE. As a foster kid, who has witnessed violence, who has been sexually abused, who has been ripped from her family, who has been neglected numerous times, who has dealt with so many different trauma's, who has graduated and gone on to get her masters... statistics say I'm supposed to be either dead, strung out, with child, in jail, etc. My faith and God's plan for my life has said otherwise.

The way I began to come up out of this sunken place was realizing that I needed help. As a student, mental health services are part of our tuition. I called the number back in February and set up an appointment for 2 weeks later. It felt odd. There I was, a "therapist" at my internship and seeking the help of a therapist. lol. I also decided to put in effort. I would agree to clean my room or at least put on clothes that made me look good on the outside though I felt hopeless on the inside. I decided to start going for walks, no matter the weather. I figured I had to fight for myself, I had to. How can I host a website talking about self love if I'm not showing myself any? How can I encourage anyone else and truly "be there" for anyone else if I couldn't even be here for myself? Little accomplishments throughout the day whether it was making my bed or eating a healthy meal made me feel better. Sometimes it took me talking to myself out loud or a lot of denouncing of negative thoughts that lived in my head for too long. It took some deliberate praying and still some deliberate praying. One of the best things I did for myself recently was going agreeing to be part of this poetry show at Sage College on Valentines day. There I met someone who agreed to take me under his wing and build me up professionally and help remind me of my greatness.  He asked me questions that forced me to reflect on who I was and who I am going to be. He reminded me of who I am with just sitting with me for 5 minutes. That's no coincidence and that wasn't the first time it has happened to me. I was no longer casting away what brought me strength but reveling in what was promised to me: Glory and success. God had already spoke life into my situation, long before I accepted it. Long before I knew it. I was already destined for greatness whether I felt it or not. Whether I wanted to step into it or not. God never slept on me, I slept on God. The ways in which he spoke to me were through other people, through my own internal reflection ( I think about what I think, a lot) through my clients, through nature and through opportunities. There was always something or someone who saw something in me that I hadn't seen in myself for a long time and they always called on me to bring it out whether it be a stranger or someone I've known for sometime. I've also recently had the opportunity to host or be part of talking to our youth about college life, hardships I've faced and how I've overcome them which has helped to ignite the flame in me, something depression and anxiety sought to extinguish.

I named this piece behind the filter because often, what people see on the outside is not a reflection of what a person feels on the inside. On the outside, I'd smile, laugh, post funny, relatable statuses but on the inside I was drained, hopeless, irritated, sleepy, sad, angry, etc.

My brother said ""now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place".(2 Corinthians 2:14)With that being said, I feel like, as I fight the good fight of faith today, I failed to realize that my mind is where the battle take place. And whatever I allow to dominate my mind, would rule my life, so would it be the lies of Satan or the word of God. When thoughts come that are contrary to God's will, I must cast them away, and above all, don't worry. A friend once told me that worrying is meditating the thoughts of Satan, and even though he will continually try to tell me my situation is hopeless, God has promised me that he will always cause me to triumph in Christ. I realize that I'm guaranteed victory over the adversity I'm facing today." Amen.

 I write this piece in hopes that this will lift someone up out of their darkness and I write this to myself to remind me of my power when the darkness decides to visit again. I am strengthened, I am powerful, I am blessed, I am highly favored and I have already defeated that which seeks to destroy me. AMEN.

How you dooooin"?

Lada the hood therapist on mouthin off

I was dubbed the Hood Therapist lol. Shout out to the creators of Mouthin' Off Podcast for the opportunity to talk about the current presidency, mental health issues prevalent in the black community, social work, dating and a few other dope topics. 

It was important for me to contribute to this podcast because I am passionate about mental health issues. We face so many different trauma's and don't even know it.

According to the article on

http://www.mentalhealthamerica.net/african-american-mental-health 

According to the US HHS Office of Minority Health [3]:

• Adult Black/African Americans are 20 percent more likely to report serious psychological distress than adult whites. 
• Adult Black/African Americans living below poverty are three times more likely to report serious psychological distress than those living above poverty.  
• Adult Black/African Americans are more likely to have feelings of sadness, hopelessness, and worthlessness than are adult whites.
• And while Black/African Americans are less likely than white people to die from suicide as teenagers, Black/African Americans teenagers are more likely to attempt suicide than are white teenagers (8.3 percent v. 6.2 percent).

Black/African Americans of all ages are more likely to be victims of serious violent crime than are non-Hispanic whites, making them more likely to meet the diagnostic criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Black/African Americans are also twice as likely as non-Hispanic whites to be diagnosed with schizophrenia. [4]

I'm grateful for the opportunity to share my experience as a black woman, soon to be black social worker,  and comedian lol.

Check it out yall!

(Fill in the blank) new year.

Hello folks!

I hope all is well with everyone and if it ain't, I hope you're getting there. First and foremost, I must thank you all for rocking out with me for these past 4 months, it has been so real!  The people that I've met, the stories that I've read and opportunities that I've had is amazing and has definitely pushed me in my hard times. I ask that you continue to share yourself and share with each other in this new year as we have some interesting times ahead of us. lol. So with the new year, of course comes the question of what is your resolution(s)?

Definition of resolution according to Oxford an em': a firm decision to do or not to do something.

Hm, usually when asking about a resolution, many people comment on what they are going to start doing and not necessarily what they need to stop. Upon thinking about it, here's a list of Things I need to stop:

 Self doubt about achieving my goals and stepping into true happiness. No more.

 Seeking validation from others regarding my looks, talents, abilities.  Nope.

Self sabotage: Anytime things are going welland I'm in a routine, I'm good. However, when stress overcomes me, I make excuses to engage in destructive behaviors. I gotta Chill.

Less social media engagement: it literally waste so much time and energy. I find myself getting too invested in things that I literally did not know about or cared about. Na son.

Things that I'll do:

To Due list - Yes. TO DUE. These lists were every helpful for me in college and allowed me to organize my priorities and schedule naps and "free time". Moving forward,  watching Grey's anatomy will be part of my free time.

Stay to myself: Though I enjoy sharing good news with people, I peeped that it was also used as a form of validation. I need to act as though there is no one else in the world and if no one is watching, would I still go hard for my goals? The answer is yes and I only have myself to prove it to.

SAY NO!: I never say no and I'm always doing something out of obligation even though I know it'll make me anxious or uncomfortable. I'm going to start using that word more. This largely includes engagements with family members and school obligations.

We are so afraid of ourselves and for ourselves and because of that we stay safe and very rarely take chances. For months and years we sit in these situations comfortable uncomfortable and wait for this new time, (most of the times, Mondays) to do what is necessary to make change in our lives. This new year is just the start of another day to get ish right and move forward towards all that you want to achieve in your lifetime. MAKE THINGS HAPPEN NOW. EVERYDAY. Don't wait for someone or something to come along and push you to do you. Seek less validation from others and search more within. Become comfortable with yourself. Don't wait for your gym buddy, don't wait on your best friend, don't wait on your pops, don't wait to have a kid to do right. All we have is now. Lets get it!

Prosperous, joyful, successful, love filled, peace filled, determined, new year.

Kailey McDonald: On Love and Trump

On Love and Trump

By Kailey McDonald

“…and I think what angers me the most is that he’s infected everyone. He’s made me hate, too. Because I do, I hate them. I hate them, Kailey, and that’s not supposed to be what I stand for. We’re supposed to be on the side of Love, and he’s turning us into this.”

I’ve been thinking about these words from a friend of mine since she uttered them on Wednesday evening, the night after Trump was elected. They’ve left a stain on me, because I can’t say she’s wrong. I feel a despicable kind of contempt taking root in my soul, and I don’t know what to do about it. Frankly, I’m not sure if I want to do anything about it.

Because I think what I hate is not the people who despise me, who fear me, who want to violate my rights, my body, my claim to a beautiful and free-thinking mind. Those people, I have managed (after long days of deep self-reflection) to find sympathy for. They too, feel afraid, and have been taken advantage of in one way or another by systems that are, just like in my case, out of their hands.

I don’t hate them; at least, I’m trying not to. I hate what they stand for.

I hate what they believe in and I hate what they symbolize, and it’s ripping me apart, because we all know he has encouraged hate among his supporters like wildfire, but I didn’t know it had infected me, too. That wasn’t how this rhetoric was supposed to work. And yet here I am. I hate their fear, I hate their anger, I hate their hatred, I hate, I hate, I hate.

This is not how I am supposed to be. Above all other things, what I stand for is the respect and acknowledgement of human dignity. That humane treatment is not a privilege but a right, something I am obliged as a fellow human to give to everyone I interact with. This is the reason I speak, and write, and protest, and educate myself: so that I never fall prey to the easy road of denying someone dignity, simply because I was too lazy, or too biased, or too close-minded to try to learn from them or talk to them.

I cling to this with everything I have, and I always thought this was love. But when I see people telling me to embrace the rampant post-election hatred with love? 

I can’t.

How can I love that which seeks to destroy me, that which seeks to see me hurt, in pain, sent away to be “fixed” of my queerness, who sees my body as an object of someone else’s pleasure in which I have no say. How can I watch testimony after testimony of people who have been attacked, murdered, shot at, threatened, harassed, and give my love to the perpetrators?

I’m not ready yet. I’m not strong enough. I don’t know if I ever will be.  

I will talk to them, I will try to engage with them, I will continue to treat them with dignity because I see no other way forward, but I cannot love them right now. Especially not when I so clearly see them as a “them.” There is a reason for that, and that reason frightens me.

What does this mean? On the one hand, it’s a form of self-love. I will not expose myself to continued abuse out of a sense of moral superiority. That will not get my voice heard, nor will it protect my rights, my safety, or my life. But at the same time, it hurts. It hurts to admit that Trump has taken my ability to love from me. It hurts worse to think I’ve given it freely. It feels wrong; it feels like I’ve consumed a piece of myself, like oxygen fueling a fire. Is that self-love? I don’t know.

What I do know is that offering my love is not the same as offering my civility, my conversation. This I can and must continue to put forth, even more aggressively. I must make an effort not to expect my words to happen across these people, but to go to them and initiate the dialogue myself. We must bridge this gap somehow. I cannot bridge it with love, not today, but perhaps one day, all sides will have healed enough to embrace one another with love. As far as my spiritual wellbeing, that it seems must be a constant work in progress, and I’m not sure what is in store. But when it comes to my physical safety, and the wellbeing of people (regardless of political affiliation), I will always fight to put a stop to violence. If it means limiting my own exposure, or stepping in between someone else’s violence and their target. My inability to embrace Trump supporters does not mean I will not loudly condemn violence against them, or step in to protect them if I see it happen.

I cannot love them but I will not hate them. I will only hate what they stand for, and that makes all of the difference.

Lada: I met Kailey at LMC. She was one of the most passionate student leaders I had ever met. Seeing her speak and hearing her ideas and finally seeing these new innovative ideas come to action was attractive and strengthened me to continue to push forward past my own struggles. She wrote this piece shortly after Trump was announced the new president and I think it is still relevant to the climate we are in right now. Thank you Kailey, for putting what so many of us are thinking and feeling into powerful words.