As a Black woman, I have to constantly remind myself that the way I want to be loved isn’t unattainable. Black women are con/unconsciously taught to put everyone else’s needs ahead of our own—to nurture, to sacrifice, to bear the weight of the world while asking for nothing in return.

Peggy Ann Freeman, aka Donyale Luna—a Black girl from Detroit—was such an ethereal, mysterious being. I watched her documentary this time last year, & it's heartbreakingly beautiful. I love that she was able to use her imagination to create a persona that propelled her into the career & lifestyle she wanted. But I just wish that persona hadn't been born from a desire to escape her Blackness.

I am passion personified. I love with the depth of my heart, & I cherish my ability to feel so deeply. I am in tune with my feelings, empathy, & the intricate dance between them. Yet, as much as I embrace these emotions, I don’t want them to consume me.

I have a tendency to over explain, a lot. I've always felt like I needed to in order to be heard & understood. As a Black woman, there’s already a fight against being silenced.

In my blog post “you’re powerful, know that” I talked about using your power to let go of grudges & make room for new connections.

When we hold onto the pain of the past, it forfeits our power to release. There’s so much more power in letting go than holding onto grudges against those who’ve wronged us.