True Love Brought Salvation Back Into Me

September 5, 2017







One of my absolute favorite songs on Beyonce's Lemonade album is All Night Long!  

The poetry and song are like an ode to Self. From the first time I heard All Night Long, I felt like this song was about freeing yourself from the ideas and philosophies of others. About being your own Magician by using your knowledge and experiences to build yourself back up. 


Going out into the world, I realize that there are many moments where an aspect of us, as Black women, is being "borrowed" by another. Whether it's our language, fashion styles, music or dance styles... There is always someone being "inspired" by what we do or who we are. Unfortunately this is even done in regards to our spirituality.


Don't get me wrong... There are many ways in which I am grateful for the curiosity of the "adventurers" who have gone out into the ends of the worlds to report back to Western civilization what life is like over there. It is in part because of their endeavors that I am able to have an understanding of myself the way I do. Who knows what my journey to Self would've looked like if it weren't for their observations. Their perspectives have become the whisperings of my ancestors. For they planted seeds in me that have caused me to BLOOM at this point in my life.


At the same time, I am also saddened. Because the transfer of information has, in a lot of instances, been by people who have not resembled me one bit. Whether it's because of their socio-economic background, their gender, or the color of their skin... I have often times had to receive information from people who had no idea what my journey looked like. They had no idea of the hurts, the pains, the joys, the passions that were contained within me.


The fact that these adventurers haven't always looked like me isn't perse 'an issue'. But it has caused me to wonder numerous times where "my peoples" were. I wondered if we existed. And it caused me to feel a slight disconnect to the information I was absorbing. I felt like there was a monopoly  on spiritual information. As if people who looked like me hadn't been fortunate enough to have those experiences and/or weren't able to share their views on big platforms. At a given point I started to feel inadequate and invisible in their world. 


I started longing to hear the stories of women that looked like me. I wanted to hear the stories of Black women! In these moments, my hunger no longer felt quenched by the "spirituality has no color" information I was taking in... I wanted to see women of color teaching spiritual principles that resonated deep within. It's at this point that I started looking for a community of Black women who loved themselves and who were confident in their Truth. Healing came to me when I was able to see my reflection. When I was able to experience the full force of unconditional love towards myself... 


Hearing the voices of spiritual grandmothers soothed me. 

Hearing the passionate plea of my sisters revived me. 


I stepped into my tears and found my redemption. 

My tears were my ocean. 

The ocean housed my soul. 

And I swam.


The tears that were caused by those that were so different to me, was my gold. 

And in that moment, 




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May your day be filled with love, peace, joy and happiness!




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