safe

Staying Safe

| Sheree

I have a love/ hate relationship with my body.

Usually I’m in the hate spectrum. I’ve internalised beliefs about the Black woman’s body that are oppressive and ugly that have been passed down through generation and generation.

I can’t remember a time that I haven’t felt that my body didn’t fit. That my body was too big, too fat, too Black. I’ve learned how to keep myself small, keep myself invisible( even while being hypervisible), keep myself safe.

Those moments when I’ve felt glory being within my body have been few and far between. And when I’ve got to that point of accepting my body, accepting myself, I can’t remember how I got there to get back there now.

My mum was thin once. But most of my life I remember her as being overweight. I saw pictures of her slim and I asked her what happened. Even that question is loaded and judgmental and wrong.

She said when she had lost all the weight she wasn’t well and she wasn’t happy. She said she was happier being fat. I didn’t ask any further questions probably because I didn’t like her answer.

I’m pondering this now, here. Wondering and wandering around my body.

Hello And Welcome

| Sheree

I feel better now. I feel as if a weight has been lifted off of me and I can finally breathe again.

In March this year I announced to my substack followers that I was fixing to leave the platform because I could no longer be there in the light of their tendencies to allow racism to be spread on the platform. I was fixing to leave and then did nothing about it. But this also meant I didn’t write anything else there either. Until today.

I wrote about the above little purple flower. And how they and I have something in common, we choose to grow where we choose to grow and thrive in the process. In the cracks, in the margins, we find freedom.

I’ve left substack now but left my archive.

I simply migrated my subscribers from there to here. Totally understand if this isn’t your bag and you choose to leave. But this is my home and there is no place I find more safe and reassuring and room to grow than here, my own website. This is something I’ve been forgetting of late as I’ve been quiet and to some extent paralysed therefore. not really writing, sharing or dreaming in public for reasons I’m not too sure. But I’ll find out in time, all will be revealed. I trust in the process, in my decisions and in my potential to create my centre out of the margins and edges.

So welcome to my home. I hope you’ll be comfortable here. This home has been around since 2017 and it’s a creative archive of my progress and process which I am very proud of and continue to invest in. I’m happy you could stop by.

Let’s not be strangers and let’s connect on a deeper level. Always x

Linger

| Sheree

I thought the snow would come and go especially with living by the coast. There’s something in the air, maybe it’s the salt from the sea, which makes snow here a fleeting thing.

But she’s stayed the last few days and has dug in. Fresh snow falling over night. Clinging to roof tops, layer upon layer, creating slippery paths and doorsteps.

But as I’ve said before there is something magical about snow and how it silences the air. Almost like a cocoon is created in the world you’re walking through/{being} within.

So like the child that still lingers inside of me, I’ve been taking joy in the snow lingering and transforming my world into a safe and cosy cocoon away from the harshness of the other world.

we crave joy. we need safety

| Sheree

Words: adapted from ‘Conjuring Hands: The Art of Curious Women of Color’, by gloria j. wilson, Joni Body Acuff and Venessa Lopez

we crave joy. unmediated, defined by self, not by others.

for me, joy is intertwined with the idea of ‘safety’.

for me safety means not only protection from White hands that hold sticks, stones, batons, and guns.

but also safety from White minds and from White eyes.

in the past, in attempts at safety, i have resorted to running, literally and figuratively.

i fold in on myself to avoid harmful interactions. to keep myself safe.

i’m no longer prepared to relegate myself to the corner of the room. i go to the waters seeking guidance from the ancestors, seeking safety, seeking joy.

In Bed with Intuition

| Sheree

Nothing beats journaling in bed. Still half-asleep but fresh coffee bringing me around. And the day ahead. Expanding or constructing as I see fit.

I come to the page and allow my mood to guide me. What page to put pen to or image or colour.

It’s my intuition who leads the way, gently. Before my intuition was dead and gone. Repressed and forgotten. But slowly, through trust and patience my intuition is very much in the driving seat these days.

And I like it this way. She never sees me wrong but keeps me safe, creative and present.

Visual Journaling 24/05