Tag: journey

Infusion

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A piece started almost a year ago, and finished tonight: 

Love. I have written as I was falling in love. I have written as I deepened in love. I have written when I expanded in love. I have written when I contracted in love. I have written when I hated love. I have written when I didn’t know what love wanted from me; why it wanted me to be tortured. I have written when love healed the edges but couldn’t reach the center. I have written when I was released from love. When I diverged from love. When I surfaced from love. When I detached from love and forgot love’s name.

I think when I detached from my ex, I left love behind. So much of love and him and us and fate were intertwined. I couldn’t release myself from just one. I had to walk away from everything, just to save my life.

But in the process, I forgot about the brilliance of love. I forgot about the tenderness of intimacy. Of familiarity. Of safety. Of being known. Of being seen. Of taking someone else in. There is something so soft about love, isn’t there? Something so…unknowable. Something incredible. Something stirring.

I miss love. It was a friend of mine once ago. It took care of me. It brought fire. It brought clarity. It brought joy, I think. There was a lot of joy. A lot of laughter. I miss all of it…

***

These days I write of self-love. Of finding the roots that cultivate good-for-the-soul love for yourself. I write of finding love in nature and its magnificence. I write of finding love for one’s body, one’s mind, and one’s spirit. I write of love cultivated in friendships: love that shows up for you, again and again. I write of family love: a love that endures the waves of growing up. I write of searching for love that makes you feel whole. I write of love for one’s hobbies that become passions. I write of love that doesn’t require shrinking but expanding. Love that brings calmness and sweetness to you. Love that feels easy. Love that creates space for you and others to thrive. Love that is filled with belly laughs and quiet understanding. Love that isn’t necessarily attached to one person but is infused into all the elements of this life.

Maybe love didn’t leave me like I thought it had. Maybe it reshaped and ventured out. Maybe it was always here, asking me to expand to find it.

Embracing love has been the greatest journey of my life. I hope I keep searching for it…

 

“Nobody but nobody makes it out here alone. What really matters now is love. I mean, that condition in the human spirit that is so profound it allows us to rise. Strength, love, courage, love, kindness, love, that is really what matters.”

 – Dr. Maya Angelou

Soft, Wild, Ever-Changing & Rooted

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  • My relationship with my hair (yes, it’s a full-blown relationship) is the most tumultuous, forgiving, difficult, loving, shady relationship I’ve ever had. Some days it respects me, other days I wear a headband and pray for the best. Some days I worry so much about the decision I’ve made, other days we coexist beautifully.
  • Many see my natural hair as a political statement, but most days it’s simply a deeply personal decision that also happens to be displayed for the world to see.
  • I’ve found that support and encouragement will come in big and small ways, often unexpected but always appreciated.
  • I’ve found that criticism and judgment will come in big and small ways, often accompanied by someone tryna put their grubby hands in your hair without asking (*major side-eye*).
  • I try to take both compliments & criticism with a grain of salt. Mostly, I try to remember that someone’s feelings about my hair is often more of a reflection that person than my actual hair.
  • I have grown to love my coils. This was an unexpected event. To get here I had to work through a lot of internalized bullshit and misconceptions about natural hair. Before I went natural, I assumed there were only two types of natural textures; one being more socially accepted and beautiful than the other. But I was so, so wrong. There are millions of iterations of natural hair, as many as there are women of color on this Earth. I could never have known what texture my coils would be like until I took this leap.
  • My bathroom looks like I robbed a hair salon.
  • Cutting my hair off was an act of courage I never thought I had in me. But I am so grateful I did. There’s something about my hair that feels like who I want to be: soft, wild, ever-changing, and rooted.

 

“You have to kind of really have conviction with it because there is so many pressures to straighten your hair all the time. But the result is a beautiful thing, you know? And it’s funny because I always think it’s interesting that to keep my hair the same texture as it grows out of my head is looked at as revolutionary. Like, why is that?” – Tracey Thoms, Good Hair (2009)