Black Trauma + Black Joy

It’s exhausting.
I’m exhausted.

If I’m being honest, I’m supposed to be the person that slides in your inbox and reminds you to center your joy. To boldly take up space. To get outside and get grounded.

And that all sounds like bullshit right now.

A black man birdwatching in the early hours of the morning can’t find peace.
A city— hell, a country— is in complete unrest after watching… well I don’t need to tell you. You already know.

So how can I, in good conscious tell you to center your joy when the world has gone to shit?

I’m not going to.
This is all I have right now: Protect your peace at all costs.

Give yourself the gift of space.
Grieve.
Check in with yourself.
Recognize how you feel.
And take action on what you can do to feel better, if anything.

Express your Anger. Betrayal. Bitterness. Sadness. Hurt. Disappointment.
Every single emotion— it’s all valid.

And as you express it remember this one thing: You aren’t obligated to teach or explain or expound on any of it.

You are beautiful.
And worthy.
And so our men.
Our fathers, sons, brothers, nephews, cousins, and friends.


—N

P.S. I built our Color Outside Facebook Community as a safe place for women of color to express themselves. Feel free to use that space to do and say whatever you need to say.

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