Sister Zora told us. Black women are the mules of the world. Somehow the hardest, most thankless work lands in our laps every time. But it’s not a mystery. It is the legacy of white supremacist patriarchy that keeps us […]
So you think you need a therapist? (Hint: Even if you don’t think so, you probably do). Given the content of this blog, being asked about how to find a good therapist is a frequent inquiry. Usually, it’s either how […]
Self-care takes many forms. For some, it’s bubble baths and spa dates. For others, it’s drawing boundaries and saying no. And sometimes it’s identifying and changing demoralizing behaviors. For me, it’s all of the above, with the added commitment of […]
I know the pandemic is supposed to be slowing down Thanksgiving for some of us. But I can’t help but think about my love/hate relationship with this holiday as an introverted Black girl. If your Black family is anything like […]
Depending on where you’re located the sun is basically playing peekabo from now until spring. You may have heard of “seasonal affective disorder”, now being referred to as Major Depressive Disorder with a Seasonal Pattern. (Source: NAMI). You may have […]
In trying to write this about me post, it’s amazing to reflect on how much I’ve changed since the first time I wrote one for my blog. Usually, it’s hard to talk about who I am because I previously have […]
If you haven’t read the Part I of Authenticity is Self-Care, then go check that out first. I love that post because it pissed off someone that hollered like a hit dog. It made me realize I was probably on […]
**Trigger Warning: mentions of violence and experiences that cause trauma It is my observation that many people of color, particularly Black people, are really not aware that they’ve experienced trauma. Or, they don’t understand just how much trauma eats away […]
7 Bullets. 8+ minutes. Strangulation. 44 shots. James, George, Sandra, Keith, Tony, Breonna. The Time is Now. This is about challenging myself. A few months ago, a couple posts on this blog and a string of emails in my newsletter […]
The year is 2016. I live 900 miles away from my parents, year one in a PhD program that lied to me about money I planned to use to pay my rent, and I’m staring at a notice that says […]