Retrograde Review and a Healthy Break

Hello Beautiful People,


I don’t keep any sort of tab about how many people read this blog. The numbers matter and they do not matter at all.

So: whoever you are, thank you for reading and coming through. There’s a lot of Internet out there and I am deeply and honestly honored you stopped over here. 

I’m going to be taking a blogging break for a bit. I’m not sure for how long but something in my spirit/body/universal whispering is telling me to slow my roll a bit and really birth a new way of writing that isn’t as tied up into external validation. I talk a lot about this, but now it’s time for me to really walk my talk and listen.

As much as I want to override this voice and just continue to do, do, do; I have to stop and take stock. I know this pause will bring so much more for all.


So, as a see-ya-soon gift, I am leaving these 9 blog posts for you to re-read (or to read for the first time). May they digest in a way that brings some joy or understanding or peace in your life. I hope there’s something that works for you:


  1. The one where I talk about being allergic to the concept of self-love.
  2. The one about being a black woman with emotional eating issues.
  3. A Self-Love Playlist Step-by-Step Guide.
  4. The one about the best book I’ve ever read on trauma.
  5. The one where I realize that happiness is uncomfortable.
  6. 57 Awesome Quotes from Black Women On Loving Life.
  7. The one about following our hearts even when those closest to us are like, WTF?!
  8. The one about loving my body and being called Mutombo in high school.
  9. The one about why self-care is so damn hard.

I’ll be posting my “micro-blogs” on Instagram in the meantime but I fully intend to come back here. I like writing long things :) 

Thanks again for reading and see you soon.



Why I Quit The Trauma Olympics


(This post contains some graphic descriptions of bodily injury, so if that’s not for you, stop reading now.)

On the first ship I was assigned to, the Sealand Florida, one of the longshoreman lost a finger. It may have been two. We were arriving into port, I think it was Houston or Beaumont and suddenly there is a frantic call to the bridge via radio.

Some mooring lines, the ropes that tether ships of exceptional tonnage of large container ships like the Sealand Florida to a dock, can become so tense when stretched that if they should snap, they have been known to cut a man’s leg clean off with machete preciseness. They can carry so much strength that if you accidentally get your fingers caught against a bulwark and the line, your fingers will leave a mangled, bloody mess.

They sent me, the lucky deck cadet down to escort the injured man via elevator upstairs to the medical room. I remember that this particular longshoreman was one of the youngest members on board, not much older than my nineteen years, and that the space where his fingers should be looked like squished tomatoes. I remember he was crying.

In my shock and thinking words were useless, I said nothing as we rode up the several flights. I just prayed and wished the elevator would go up faster.

I still regret that. That I said nothing.

But, what do you say to someone in that situation?

Sorry? I hope you feel better? It’s going to be okay?

The Trauma Olympics is when people assert their trauma as a justification for terrible behavior. It’s when people belittle someone else’s pain because it isn’t as large as their own or doesn’t meet their staunch criteria of Things People Should Be Hurt About. 

It’s that friend who when you tell them of a recent heartbreak says Well, you should hear what happened to me, trust me, you don’t know heartbreak…


I mean, she’s over here complaining about her family, but I can tell you my family is much worse…

Continue reading Why I Quit The Trauma Olympics

7 Reasons Self-Care Is So %&$@ Hard


Self-care, these two monosyllabic words, are very popular these days.

As a feminist and a woman creator in this society, I have often struggled with the practice of self-care. The concept makes sense to me: take good care of yourself lest you be so overspent and miserable you make others (and yourself) suffer.

Got it.

But, sometimes it’s hard. And while I used to think the difficulty was another personal failing, I am now well aware that it is not. So, please, if you are blaming yourself for not doing self-care “right” or “well”, STOP.

You are not broken.


There may be some reasons why self-care is so damn hard for you.

Here are my 7 (by no means exhaustive) reasons why self-care may be tough for you. I speak from experience (as always) and I hope you will find something useful here…

Continue reading 7 Reasons Self-Care Is So %&$@ Hard