Preparing For A New Season

December 21, 2020 by Ikeranda Smith in black, history, life, love, purpose, queer

At some point in life, you wake up + realize that everything you desire must be obtained on your own. This sentiment gathers me because I realize that so many people are holding on to things they should have already released. We make things difficult for fear of having to face ourselves. We much prefer to help others see themselves by gently turning the mirror towards the face of a reflection we haven’t recognized in ourselves yet. Its complicated! I wish people understood that the way to freedom is to turn inward. Perhaps if people had a choice to save their life or the life of another person they would unequivocally redeem someone else for fear of not being enough.

Complexities of Being Black

February 26, 2019 by Ikeranda Smith in black, history, LGBTQIA, life, love, loveislove, personal growth, personal development, relationships, women of color, people of color

There is a heartbreaking tenderness about black folks. A majestic story that is spoken through stolen slaves + subjugated bodies. Our faces are centuries away from our soul; yet we carry the smile of humanness. An accessibility we would allow if we knew how to enter our own spirits. It’s evident that our feet carry the shackles of insecurities proven to shatter relationships when we come up against our own likeness. We struggle to love due to the threats that were made to keep us isolated. Oh, how I love being black. Did you think I wouldn’t after I divulged some of our frailties? Despite our struggles, we are larger than life, precious jewels that create art through our pain while we use laughter as a salve to heal so that we may survive yet another day.

To Be Black + A Mother

February 11, 2019 by Ikeranda Smith in black, history, LGBTQIA, life, love, motherhood, parenting, relationships, women of color

I was raised by a mother who was tough as a fistful of “no thank you’s”; yet resilient enough to beckon the sun to shine even when it was raining. She raised most of her siblings, missed half of the school year working to provide for her family + married the first person that resembled a deep breath. Convinced that she had escaped a life of monotony, she conceived me with a man who never achieved success, so he recycled ignorance. Nevertheless, my mother raised me with fortitude + grace bestowing on me all of her failed dreams + the effects of being neglected. It sounds cruel as if my life was being ruined; however, it was being created from the residue of a generation that carried the weight of being extraordinarily resilient.

Finding Peace

November 07, 2018 by Ikeranda Smith in life, personal development, personal growth, queer, womanaremagic, women of color

I’ve been trying to nestle into a new space, find solace in fulfilling work, create the marriage I never saw while raising secure children. Looking for a gentle place where security is a constant, love is mirrored daily + my children can thrive is a delicate balancing act. It’s seems effortless as I ravel off years of rhetoric coupled with theories doused in all the residencies I attended just to be able to apply knowledge to my own life. The mere fact that I can write such a candid narrative is evidence that the scars of my ancestors are being healed.