Life?!

If I could be honest, I haven’t always been aware of my blackness. It was something that I witnessed all of my life along with the perils of watching others carry the burden of being black, but me…I never understood my blackness. My parents were born during a time where there was no way in the hell you could not be aware of your blackness. It was a time when you dare not be conscious of your blackness. A period where, “are you out of your mind, you’s black!” type of era. It was obvious that they didn’t want to live being black + now explain it to me what it was going to represent to me when clearly I had not lived their working day as of yet. For many years, I went oblivious of being black, until I didn’t. I remember vividly, the moment my eyes begin to open. I was fresh out of a divorce…a single mother with 2 kids…no “real job” that was even remotely sustainable. For God’s sake I made $20k a year…if that. I was living with my best friend (we were roommates) + we were having a conversation about economics. There it was. The first glimpse of my blackness through the lens of a friend who at the time was making decent money but should have been making so much more but was afraid to rock the boat to advocate for more. AHA!  Meanwhile I was barely making enough to pay an overpriced car note that was left to me in my divorce. I glanced at my best friend who by all intents + purpose is one of the smartest women I know, graduated from The Black Mecca (IYKYK) + I realized that I was black.

These days I am blacker than I have ever been in my entire life for many reasons that I won’t be able to explain in this one blog post (you will have to wait for my book).  I am living extremely well as an entrepreneur, but I recently noticed that the stress of overcoming white supremacy has been gnawing at me. I have been noticing my desire to rest more as I create a life that allows me to do so. I have noticed the chemicals in my brain on most days work against me + I am often tasked to dissect, is it being black + queer, is it the fact that I am doing better than my mother + my father. Maybe it is the fact that my children get an opportunity to see me daily whereas I didn’t because I was raised by a single mother. Possibly it is the fact that I am doing the enormous job of healing a generation of people just by acknowledging the social trauma that I endured. Perhaps it the fact that parenting while black is so white in the big grand scheme of things + it leaves no room for autonomy.  It could be that I am working to create the life that was stolen from my ancestors + I have no blueprint except what I am not willing to accept.

This picture is what I am living for…Freedom. Not the kind that is dictated by the trappings of a construct that was never meant for me to succeed. The kind of freedom that allows me to show up authentically. The kind of freedom that allows me to speak for the people that haven’t found their voice yet. The kind of freedom that allows me to reside in my own lane. A lane specifically fashioned for me. I am clear about my life + the things I desire to overcome. For this alone…I am grateful.