Still I Rise

On August 12, 2018 I graduated from Willow Street Yoga Studio as a registered yoga teacher (RYT200) at the 200 hour level course. A WHOLE YEAR AGO?! My goodness how time flies when you’re flowing through life, literally. Over the course of this year i’ve learned so much about myself, community, patience, authenticity and most importantly intentionality. Now you may be asking what any of that has to do with yoga, glad you asked- here’s a glimpse into my yogic journey.

I began practicing yoga 3 years ago during my first year of graduate school at University of Maryland School of Social Work. Yoga was a means of a desperate escape for me at the time. I was dealing with post graduation depression x2; immediately going to graduate school after undergraduate school at Morgan State University and the culture shock of being at a predominantly white institution (PwI). Let’s just say, shit got real, real quick, fast and in a hurry.

One of my professors at my beloved Historically Black College and University (HBCU) referred me to try yoga and at the time all I knew of it was thin, white, blond, lululemon and having to be flexible. Have you seen me? well let’s just say #NAH. But, I trusted her and I began to do some research to find a black yoga instructor and fell in love with my home practice through video instruction everyday. I started to realize that yoga is more than fancy pretzel poses on instagram and that it is for every(body) as long as you have the capacity to breathe and envision your mat as your perfectly imperfect home.

I learned that the flexibility we all tend to over associate with the poses(asana) in yoga is parallel to the continuous flexibility the average human has to practice EVERYDAY. Flexibility is a mind state: The quality of bending easily without breaking. Life in and of itself is just that, being flexible- bending, shifting and adjusting to the inevitable flow of life to remain grounded.

I began to see that i’ve been gracefully trying to embody the yogic lifestyle through everything- I just never got on a yoga mat.

When I began practicing I vowed that I would NEVER step into a yoga studio because I was fearful of everything that had nothing at all to do with me. It’s pretty easy to fill your mind with negative unnecessary thoughts as you approach breakthrough healing. I convinced myself that my irrational thoughts were facts: i’m too thick to do yoga, i’m too black to do yoga, my mat costs $5 and my leggings aren’t $100+. Honestly, truly- none of that mattered. I was fearful of what it meant to live a better life, one that is harmonious, flexible and healthily intentional.

I began to be patient with myself, to truly begin observing my fears and thoughts around yoga and everything else I was trying to move past and what that would mean. Yoga has a way of doing that, calling you to simply be- observe your thoughts without judgement and be intentional about the way you want to practice simply connecting your breathe with movement.

The biggest eye opener for me with yoga is my conscious effort to constantly and consistently be authentic. To be ME, simply how I was designed by my higher power and the way I chose to design myself. I began to be authentic in sharing my truth, grounding myself in it and releasing it into the world once it served its purpose and focused on the lessons learned.

I express a high level of gratitude for those i’ve flowed through life with- especially those that have taught and continue to teach me lessons, guided through yoga and God for allowing me to see myself the way he sees me.

These themes have been the few of many that i’ve begun to embody and reflect on my mat, in my teaching, relationships and the way I lead in love- authentically, patiently, in my community, intentionally and most importantly in the way I flow through self love in action; Yoga.

Namaste Yogis 🌻 🧘🏾‍♀️ 🧘🏾‍♂️

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

True and through these fives years I can say this man has kept God in our relationship, I cannot say I have the strongest relationship with him or even a religion but it’s through his prayers that I know God protects me in our love. I cannot imagine what the last five years would’ve been like without you and I don’t wanna imagine the next umpteetnth years without you. You truly took a chance and a stab at love when I told you I knew what I wanted and that was you. Through this time you have showed me that you’re not only willing to keep learning but to keep growing in our love. I appreciate your times of uncomfort in order to be there with me through it all, baby I love you and there’s nothing changing that. Happy anniversary and I can’t wait to spend the rest of fivever with you.

My wonderful boyfriend is being featured on my blog as he wrote this post in lieu of woman crush wednesday.

In a world where women of all creed, colors and religions are subject to the patriarchal standards of society, I don’t think there’s ever a time where they shouldn’t be celebrated. No one person deserves to be treated any less than the other so it’s a shame that damn near half the worlds population is being discriminated against because of a fucking chromosome.

Patriarchy on the African continent is just as much engrained to a majority of the culture as our fashion sense or our ability to make some of the worlds best food. It’s damn near in the soil. It’s apart of the “culture”, but at what point do we say enough is enough? Is it when we pack our bags and leave the continent in hopes of greener pastures elsewhere? Is it when we finally realize that the most important gender on the planet where all human life comes from is finally broken down to a point of nothingness? Nope. Nah. Fuck that. I think it’s time we realize that there needs to be a culture shift in the way that women everywhere, not just the diaspora or on our continent, are revered, respected and regarded. They aren’t born to just be baby making machines for when you want a son to continue your “legacy”. They aren’t born to cook meals for your hungry ass that doesn’t even know how to light a gas stove without burning off your eyebrows. They aren’t maids to clean up after you either. Get your lazy ass up and wash your own plate Bruh.

To be quite honest, women aren’t even equal to men, they’re above us. Life is so much better when you realize that too. They’re smarter than us I.e. women’s intuition. They’re stronger than us (majority of men would kill themselves within the first 30 minutes of labor). They’re caring, nurturing, and more loving than us and we really don’t deserve them. There’s no reason women should have to put up with the shit men give them on a daily basis but here we are, and they still haven’t given up on us yet.

As a generation of members of the diaspora in the social justice age, I challenge us as men to look at how our forefathers treated our female counterparts and turn that around. Treat them the way we we’d want to be treated. Respect women. Love them. And I promise you, together we’ll all come out on top.

On June 6th, 2015 my soul was disturbed. My life changed and I was never the same. Approaching my senior year of undergrad I was raped by a fellow student, a monster who was unwilling to hear the words No which i said multiple times decided he was going to take matters into his own hands and violate my body to a degree that would leave me questioning my existence, sanity, womanhood and more. The following is a paper where I reflected on my story after watching a documentary that I suggest everyone to watch: The Hunting Ground. "it's not on you,it's on us." -Barak Obama "The Hunting Ground" is an immensely detailed movie about rape culture on campuses and my opinion is that it is not taken seriously. Take back the night- On June 6th,2015 I was raped by another student from Morgan State . My Story: I knew him, he wasn't a stranger. I met him one night through another friend and began hanging out- a couple times in my apartment and our mutual friends. One night he invited me over to his house and I went- we watched a couple of videos and talked about an array of topics, learned about him a little. The energy in the room began to shift as the videos started playing less. He started inching closer and closer until I felt uncomfortable, I told him I had to leave soon and he told me he wanted me to stay. I explained throughly numerous times that I couldn't and he became angry, I texted my friend shortly after to find an escape route. In the text I told her to call me,fake a flat tire and say that she needed my help and I was the only one who could help - he didn't acknowledge this notion at all. Shortly after the phone call he began to touch me, not stopping although I asked him to immediately pleading to help my "stranded friend" in freight. These words barley express the true feeling I had that moment. The following details are not something I can relive as I write this paper- I keep all of my papers and wouldn't want to come across reading this when I finally move forward. "88% of women do not report rape on college campuses". I did not report and this is not a report- this is an explanation of how I relate to the documentary. I went to the hospital two days after this happened and one of the doctors first questions were if I was high or drunk or on any other drug. When I went to my check up the only evidence they had was my toxicity levels- not the emotional process of the rape kit I underwent. I felt more discouraged at that moment to report, it wasn't taken seriously- I wasn't battered physically, I didn't scream, I didn't run I let him finish in fear of being damaged physically, I didn't go to the hospital immediately. I didn't feel empowered to fight through the process of proving my story, reliving that night and facing the consequences of him not being found guilty or having to face him in court. If he was arrested I wouldn't be satisfied, that night will never leave my memory. Can you imagine? the summer of graduating senior year going into a field where you're supposed to advocate for clients to be protected and you weren't able to protect yourself. This topic isn't discussed in class- how may you help a client through something you've been through except giving that client to another social worker. Through watching this documentary and seeing the student athletes receive no punishment for their acts it sickened me, more so the women in the positions that were allegedly "counselors" for rape victims. Women are taught to dress appropriately when out, don't have too much to drink, if you were ever interested in him "No" is invalid and when it happens to you what could you have done differently. This documentary is eye opening and relatable; it is interesting that the title "The Hunting Ground" is used because sexual assault is not the only thing that is hunted upon on college campuses. Attending Morgan, in an urban city which I've never lived in before has allowed me to understand that in college towns college students are preyed upon for many different things.