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The Lie We Were Taught About Words

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I was standing in my neighborhood, mid-conversation, when it happened. Accusations were being made casually, loosely, the kind of words people throw out without understanding how far they travel. I found myself explaining how what was being said could affect livelihoods, reputations, and futures. How words don’t just hover in the air, they land. And suddenly, I froze. Because out of nowhere, that tired old saying surfaced in my mind: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” I stood there, realizing how many times I had repeated that lie. Words do hurt. They hurt your money. They hurt your reputation. They hurt your standing in a community. They hurt your emotional safety. They hurt your self-esteem. They distort your vision of yourself and the world. Words spoken recklessly can wound. Words spoken with intent can destroy. Entire families are fractured by words. Entire lives are shaped by them. Even words that are whispered instead of shouted. Even words fra...
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Learning to Rest in a World That Called Us Lazy

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Do you know how to rest? Do you feel guilty when you’re relaxing? Do you always feel like you need to be doing something? Do you struggle to be still, even when your body is asking for it? Are you resting as much as possible when you are releasing? Life is in the blood. Which means every month, when we menstruate, we are literally releasing life. That alone tells us everything we need to know about how sacred this phase of the cycle is — and how much care it deserves. We should be resting. Staying warm. Replenishing nutrients. Sipping herbal teas. Moving slower. Although I’m touching on one phase of the cycle, I was inspired to write this piece after seeing a comment from a man stating that Black women are lazy. It stopped me in my tracks. Because growing up, rest was never celebrated in my world. Even after I completed my chores, if I decided to lay down and take a nap, I was often woken up and told to find something to do. When I was pregnant, I slept a lot. My grandmother would co...
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Don’t Awaken What You Don’t Intend to Feed

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It’s been years since I locked it up and put it away. When I secure the lock, I can breathe again. I move lighter, think clearly, and pour all that passion into purpose. My focus sharpens. My manifestations multiply. My joy stretches wider. I thrive when I am not awakened. But when I am… At first, it feels like oxygen after being underwater — fresh, full, and freeing. Then, slowly, deprivation creeps in. It’s like tasting sweetness only to be left craving what never comes again. The ache doesn’t arrive all at once; it lingers, stretching itself across every part of me that once felt alive. When I speak up about the hunger, the silence that follows feels louder than words. My honesty hits the floor like shattered glass,  visible, but ignored. So, I stand there, half-awake, half-starved, wondering why I was stirred only to be left empty. Why open the book if you had no plans to finish the story? Why wash the hair if you're going to leave it dripping? Why turn the oven on and walk awa...
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Church, Ego, and the Illusion of Godly Intentions

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During one of my late-night drives — the kind where you roll the windows down and let the wind sort through your thoughts — I remembered an old “friend.” Funny how memories like to resurface just when you think you’ve buried them under healing. She and I met at church. Back then, I was still trying to convince myself that spiritual community meant safety. But what I found was a place filled with people who could call me out but never look in the mirror themselves. Accountability seemed to skip certain pews. One day after service, she called and said she needed to stop by. When she arrived, she smiled and said, “God told me to bless you.” Then she asked if I needed money for something. I said yes, my light bill. At that time, I was a single mother trying to survive, and that help truly made a difference. But the peace didn’t last. A strange energy came over me soon after. I could feel something was off, like the blessing came with invisible strings. Then she admitted she had asked he...
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