This year, and I've said this before, I'm taking NO Ls. I am reclaiming my my peace and my power.
This is the last day I'll ever be 55. I'm leaving the speed limit behind. As the song says, it's time to "Take the Limits Off."
I don't regret taking our children apple-picking, but it was a hilarious conversation. It made me aware of my privilege.
I don't care about your tears. I've been suffering in silence for so long that I've forgotten how to complain.
Don’t tell me not to be angry. I’m not accusing anyone of anything, so don’t, as my mama says, “get your butt up on your shoulders.” If it’s not your shame, don’t take it on.
My husband brought these to my attention. Women of African descent in America are like desert flowers. We don't need your water. We thrive with or without your attention. We are uniquely beautiful. Come for us, lacking in sufficient care and consideration, and you will walk away remembering the experience, for better or for worse. …
Black like the night, deep like the seas, perfectly made, Imago Dei. This is who I am. Get used to it.
Even in my evolving, liminal state, I do best to keep my mind and eyes open, and my mouth shut. That is one of Cara Meredith's lessons, far more gently put. Bridge building is an act of redemption, and I learned from her as I read.