The voice of a Black woman should always be HERSELF …No edits – no erasure – no pressure – no expectations – no additions – no intruders
In order to validate our Africanness, we hold on to tradition at all cost, banning critical engagement in an attempt to preserve its sacredness
The most beautiful thing is that despite the shallow life we sometimes succumb to – the soul has no timeline and it knows what it wants and will yearn within until it seeks the journey
Because books saved my life, literally, I’ve become close to them
It’s actually such a tragedy that I live in a world that is inspired by me putting my body or mental state on the line
Society is obsessed with women’s bodies and I take my body back by doing whatever it is that I want to do with my body
How do I negotiate my way across life with a system that I find so violent yet it seems so normal to many others?
In nude protests, the very same body that is objectified and subjected to endless scrutiny and policing is used to reclaim power.
In being everything for everyone, when am I anything for myself?
To misbehave us to denounce the social norms that limit individuals based on who they are. That to make history is to upset patriarchy, a system that is intent on controlling and marginalising others.
Expand!You are not small. Your Foremothers did not do what they did so you could occupy small!
I am shedding.I am not a new me.I am my old me in my new me.I remain, carved with the soul of my knife.My mess scattered all over my countenance. I am me. Take me as I am.
What you allow inside of you will settle there unless you find an effective way to work it out.
Yes I am aware of the rules. Yes I can totally see how I err the Queen.Yes it is this very fact of slaying her language.That gives my soul its melodies.
And that makes us (black women) feel like we have spokespeople, because everybody we encounter feels they have a piece of you and can tell you how to live your life
It is the very thing I thought I could never be that the real me has settled into like a puzzle. Who would have thought I could be me?