If I had to describe my endgame in one word, it would be, Freedom. In my happiest moment I imagine myself free. Free from, mental, emotional, societal or cultural confines. Right now, at this vantage point, that level of freedom looks like happiness. We are bogged down on a daily basis by external and often internal pressures. Pressured to live our lives on timelines that only exist within our minds, or in the minds of those who frankly, don’t wish us well. Pressured and unconsciously forced to bear burdens that are not our own, we have seen it all.
- Tryna rain, tryna rain on the thunder
When I say I want freedom I don’t just want it for me. I come from a long line of women who never had the chance of being free. So when I see other Black girls and women traveling, experiencing and actually living, a part of my soul smiles wide. For we both owe it to ourselves, and deserve to be free.
- I've been running, running blind in truth
Freedom looks like the careful curation of space. Only having those around who add to the energy, and turning those away at the door who drain it. Freedom looks like living what I love for a living and miraculously (with some strategy) sustaining by it. Freedom looks like moving through time and space on my own time and pace.
- I'ma walk, I'ma march on the regular
Freedom looks like Juneteenth and not July 4th.
- I'ma riot, I'ma riot through your borders
Freedom looks like women not being told how to be women by cis-gendered misogynistic men. Or melanated women not being subjected to commentary by more blacks than Kodak. Or Black women simply not forever being the butt of the joke. Or getting to a space where all Black women both love and see themselves as enough.
- I'ma rain, I'ma rain on this bitter love
No worries. Walking around with S's on our chests as we leave a trail of glitter victories ignited by the stars we had to follow. Swimming in and sustaining off of our magic. There's something about a Black man who loves Black women, showing me that he loves, honors and appreciates his own Blackness.
- I break chains all by myself
Not another name that I'd #havetosay. Not another acquittal. Not another "I felt threatened."
- May the last one burn into flames