My Body Is Mine

When I was in sixth grade, I wanted to look like "Michelle." (Let's call her that for identity sake) She was the light skin girl with hazel eyes. She had reached puberty eons before either myself or the other little girls in our classroom. We all bowed at the throne of this girl. All the boys liked her. All the girls wanted to look like her, including myself. I remember looking down at my shirt, wanting boobs to magically appear and my body to change. I was short and lanky and dark skinned with dark eyes. Growing up, I personally liked my dark skin. However, it wasn't always celebrated. My dark skin, nose, and crooked smile were all a reminder of my biological father. Perhaps a painful reminder to those whom he had been affected by his violence and abuse. As a child, I looked more like him, than my mother.

I remember telling my mother, that I wanted my body to look like "Michelle's" body. I wanted to have hips and butt and boobs. She reminded me that I was in sixth grade, and that I had MY body. She said that my body would change and blossom into this womanly form that possessed curves resembling my mother, and her mother before her. I waited. My body changed. However, it remained lanky and short. Truthfully, to this day, I don't have hips and butt and curves for days. It simply is what it is.

When I contemplated doing this shoot, I returned to that 6th grade girl. What if all the women present were shaped differently than I? They were. What if, I was the only one with stretch marks on my belly and thighs? I wasn't. Prior to the shoot, I contemplated nursing while being photographed. I thought to myself, 'I will be ok nude, if I am breastfeeding, and hiding my insecurity behind my motherhood.' Was it possible for me to stand in my own womanhood, without a babe attached to my breast? Could I stand in this skin, alone? This body was carrying years of both self inflicted and environmental body shaming? It needed to stop. The fear and negative voices needed to stop. 

At the shoot, I stood with a blanket wrapped around me. Afraid to remove it. These women were beautiful. Their bodies perfect. As I continued to stand there (still with the blanket wrapped around my body), I saw these beautiful women laughing and embracing each other, as if they were clothed in diamonds. They turned to me and beckoned for me to join. I briefly tried to find a place where I fit... They quickly made room for me. They held space for me. Perhaps, they were on the same journey of reconnecting with their bodies? Perhaps they had been there before... For me, I wasn't quite sure when this insecurity began... But, I knew now is when it would end. 

My Self Care IS Activism

I am grateful. I am grateful for family and friends. I am grateful for healthy relationships and the ability to stay clear from toxicity. I am grateful for my home. I think it's clear… that there is a lot to be grateful for. However, yesterday as we gathered with loved ones, I couldn't help but feel heaviness. I felt heaviness that as we ate, Native Americans are still disrespected, tossed to the side, and stolen from. I felt heaviness that just a few weeks prior, our country elected a man that has disrespected people of color, the disabled, muslims, women, and the lbgt community. I felt heaviness for the families of Chattanooga, TN who lost their babes just a couple of days ago in a horrific bus crash. With that being said, there is a lot of healing that needs to take place. There is a lot of self care that needs to take place. However, how do we implement self care and self celebration in the midst of chaos? How do we stay inspired in the midst of personal and/or public calamity?

I truly believe that self care is a form of activism. To stand up in the midst of someone’s hate, and scream, “I am enough," is not only a form of activism, but self care. Self care isn't just taking a long bath; although pausing for self is necessary. Self care is decorating a poster and marching through the streets while affirming that black lives really do matter… because they do. Self care is not buying into the hype of Black Friday… opting out of standing in long lines to buy more stuff. Your worth is not in getting more stuff.

Self care is speaking the truth… your truth… because it is necessary. After the election, I was greeted via social media by people asking me to validate my frustration on racism and the election results. I spoke even louder. This blatant election of bigotry over unification spoke volumes. It should have rang loudly to those who had been in a deep slumber regarding racism in this country. Using your voice on whatever platform that you may have is a form of self celebration. When you use your voice to speak on things that matter, you proclaim your worth. When you use your privilege to influence others to change, you celebrate the fact that your words have power and value. They are not empty. 

Lastly, sometimes staying inspired, involves simply unplugging. No television, no electronics, just the sound of your breath and the wind blowing through the trees. These moments are necessary. I have found that when I take time to “unplug from the matrix,” I am able to return, revitalized and ready to speak, protest, and engage in much needed discussions. Reminding myself that in spite of the chaos, hate, and crazy, I am worthy and important. 

Mothering... A Journey Of Healing Through Grief

It is never easy to lose a parent at an early age. Honestly, It is never easy for anyone to lose a parent no matter what the age. I was twenty-three when my mother passed from Cancer. Twenty-three with a three-year-old daughter. My mother, Kimberly, and I were always super close. She was my very first best friend. When I had my daughter, it seemed as though our relationship reached a whole new level. We now had motherhood in common... something more to share. My mom was the first person who saw the face of my daughter. Yes, even before me (I fell asleep on the table, that medicine was serious). I loved the relationship my daughter shared with my mom. Whenever we would come to visit from Tennessee, if you saw Kim you saw Chasi. Their relationship was really starting to bloom. My mom was teaching my daughter and I. Kim taught me so much about motherhood, womanhood, being a wife, and a successful woman. As a mother, always keep an open line of communication with your children. As a woman, don’t take crap from anybody and maintain sexy at all times. Maintaining a healthy marriage was important.  As a successful woman, business is business and you better handle yours if you want to eat. We had an absolutely wonderful relationship.

    So on July 10, 2012 when I found out that my mother had passed away, many emotions filled by body. I found myself in the days leading up to the funeral in a straight haze.  At this point, I was pretty much numb. During the funeral Greg, my biological father (aka my sperm donor) thought it would be a wonderful idea for him and his sisters to show up 21 years later to try to make amends. FYI, I let them know that they "tried my life" to the 10th degree. The days after the funeral, I found myself growing angry. I was mad! Mad at life, mad at family members, and honestly I was mad at my mom. She left me. Growing up my parents never wanted to tell my siblings and I bad news (or that somebody died) especially at night time. I guess they didn’t want us to dream about it or something. They would wait until the morning to tell us. I felt as though my parents still were trying to treat us like those little girls. I felt as though my parents knew more than they let on about the Cancer and it spreading throughout my mom’s body. So when she died, I felt blindsided. I felt as though those last 4 weeks were taken from me. I was pissed. I already don't have the best attitude when it comes to bull$@!&, and it went to a whole different level. I no longer cared. If you were somebody’s mother or grandmother try me if you want to. Anybody could get it! Straight up! Let’s just say that the "alternate personality" my mom use to encourage me to never reveal was in full effect. She always knew what was up, if I was provoked. My mom knew the real Cecili, and loved every part of me. 

    It’s been four years since my mommy passed away.  I am no longer mad at life. Trust me it took time. It has been hard not having my mom around, especially since I am a mother to a now seven-year-old kid. I do get upset when I think about the phone calls I can no longer make or the pictures and videos I can no longer send. I still feel like those last few weeks were stolen. However, with time, I had to realize my mom didn’t leave me willingly or purposely. I had to realize she didn’t leave this earth mad, so I better not live on this earth mad. I had to realize that she left me with great wisdom, love, and gratitude. I know my mom is putting in some major keys up there to God on my behalf. Everyday I see more of her in me. I am slowly morphing into her. I hear her when I pray with Chasi on the way to school, I even hear her when my boyfriend speaks. That woman is still everywhere. It’s amazing. 

    It doesn’t get easier, but it does get manageable. My suggestion to anyone dealing with the passing of a loved one allow yourself to grieve in your own way. Allow yourself to be mad, cry, scream, and shout. Whatever you need to do to get out your frustration do it. It’s normal and natural. With your grief however, allow yourself to heal and Go On. Unfortunately, life is not going to pause around you. Enjoy it because clearly nothing is promised. And as Kimberly would say, “Be the best you, you can be”. 

The Best Version of Myself...

Fitness has always been a part of my life whether for recreation, competition or most recently for the sole reason of being the best version of myself. Best version of MYSELF. Not the best version in general, because that mindset inevitably brings forth comparison and comparison in my opinion is the archenemy to a healthy self-esteem. 

If I hadn't discovered this revelation I would be disgusted with my body image today and would be putting forth far too many efforts toward immediate change back to my physically fit self. I would see all the picture perfect mamas on Instagram and feel like trash due to my few new stretch marks, the extra weight around my thighs/midsection, how my hip bones have shifted for good. Thankfully I am no longer in the business of comparison and all of these changes have only fueled my womanly empowerment! I am so proud of this body and what it has accomplished, I have grace for it and am giving it the necessary time to heal..do I want to be fit again? Of course! But in good timing and not because I want countless likes on Instagram. Majority of my energy is going toward nurturing a newly earth side baby, making sure that she feels safe and loved. My time is spent no better way than with her laying skin to skin on my chest for as long as she sees fit. 

We are unconsciously programmed from a very young age to dress, act, be a certain way and as mothers if we are not intentional about guarding our children's hearts and minds they will continue to fall victim to fueling their progress in life by insecurities. I'm not saying that society is evil or trends are of the devil but when I see people putting more stock in how others will perceive them over their very own peace of mind and contentment that is what does not sit well within my soul. 

Every human deserves to be seen, to be loved, to be accepted for their most genuine self but the trouble is many are unwilling to be vulnerable enough for that acknowledgment. Hiding in plain sight has been mastered by an amazing amount of people and it breaks my heart to be aware of just how much potential is being hidden behind the fear of failure and loneliness. Realistically every successful person who had to put in their own efforts to get there has faced many failures along the way and as far as loneliness goes all of my revelations, spiritual awakenings or simple realization of common sense has never come to me while I'm out with my girls, getting ready for a concert or even having a Netflix&chill with my soulmate but RATHER in complete solitude.

I have found a respect for myself over the past few years that allows me to treat others with grace and understanding. Through trial and error, meditation and allowing the universe to finally do its thing in my life I have found that I am here to be a kind and loving inspiration of truth. My mind is at peace knowing that my purpose is simple and attainable, not easy but worth the effort because in return I am continually blessed by the addition of deep and richly invested friendships, the kind that don't give up on you when you slip up and act like a complete idiot for some reason or another. Shoutout to Shannon and Roxane, I love you girls. 

I hope that a sentence or two has deeply resonated within whomever may be reading these words.

In conclusion...

-If you haven't already, start the journey toward becoming your very best SELF. That may mean; purging your home of useless junk, eating better, working out, making time for solitude, reading a book, smelling some flowers, rekindling a forgotten hobby, nurturing a meaningful friendship.. Etc...

-if you happen to be a mother please brainstorm and consider ways that you can be very intentional about raising up your young one(s) to be entirely aware of their self worth. Make sure they know just how essential and important they are. This may mean; allowing them to be curious even if that means you don't always have the answers, praising their ideas instead of questioning them, telling them that they are wonderful.. Etc...

Close your eyes, smile and be at peace 🙏🏻
Namaste
Summer dawn
 

Q&A With Joy Bryant... Loving the Skin You're In

NSPP--What does loving the skin you’re in mean to you?

JB--It means accepting myself- mind, body and soul. It means being comfortable with who I am. Flaws and all.

NSPP--What has proven to be the most important lesson learned thus far?

JB--That I can’t look to the world to validate me. I don’t need the world to tell me anything about myself that I should already know: that I am lovable; that my voice matters; that my ideas make sense and deserve the space to expand.

NSPP--in a world full of patriarchy..How do you fight to own your body?

JB--Being older, married and more secure in who I am, I don’t have the need to cater to the male gaze at large anymore. Only one male’s gaze matters, my husband’s, and even then I’d like to think his gaze is not solely focused on my physical attributes, but what’s going on in my mind and in my heart. 

NSPP--Would your younger self like the person that you are today?

JB--Hell yeah she would! 

Photo Credit: Kristen Cleary

NSPP--What piece of advise would your older self give to your younger self? and Vice Versa.

JB--I would tell her to stop trying to be like everybody else, stop trying to be cool. “Being cool” for the sake of just being cool is so overrated and wack! The coolest people are the ones who are simply themselves no matter what. I would tell her that she’s beautiful as she is.

NSPP--What are your thoughts on the #BlackGirlMagic Movement? Do you believe that its necessary? If so, why? How do you spread #BlackGirlMagic?

JB--Black Girl Magic is a declaration that our beauty, our humanity matters: from the physical to the spiritual, the intellectual and the emotional. Black Girl Magic is our unapologetic presence, our liberation, our gift to the world,our gift to ourselves and each other.

NSPP-If you were abandoned on an island…alone…AND you could only bring 3 items…what would those 3 items be?  

JB--The book, “Women Who Run With The Wolves”, a notebook and a pencil.

Photo Credit: Kristen Cleary