BLACK LOVE IS LOVE

So you want to know what I’m reading right now? I’m actually listening to an audiobook – King Sorrow by Joe Hill, Stephen King’s son. And let me tell you, that man inherited his father’s gift.

This book has me completely hooked. It’s dark, psychological, and gets under your skin in all the right ways. Joe Hill has his own distinct voice – edgy and contemporary – but you can feel that storytelling DNA running through his work.

My #1 hobby is reading and I absolutely love love love getting immersed into whatever journey awaits me.. However, over the last 7 or so years I’ve opted for listening to audiobooks because I can listen while I’m doing other things, and this one’s been keeping me great company. The narration brings everything to life, and the story itself? It’s taking me on quite the journey. Reading – or listening – is one of those acts of self-care that also feeds your mind and expands your world. And right now, King Sorrow is doing exactly that.

If I could live anywhere? I’m going straight to the Motherland, no question. Ghana, Senegal, Nigeria – somewhere I can stand on the soil my people built civilizations on long before the world tried to tell us we were anything less than Kings and Queens.

I want to wake up every morning surrounded by Black excellence that doesn’t have to explain itself or code-switch or shrink down. I want to walk through markets where every face looks like mine, where our brilliance is the norm, not the exception. Where I can see the kingdoms we built, the universities we established in Timbuktu while Europe was still figuring things out, the art and innovation that’s always been ours.

I want to live where Blackness isn’t a statement or a struggle – it just is. Where my children can grow up knowing their full history, not the edited version that starts with enslavement. Where they can see themselves in everything around them and understand that we are descended from greatness.

Because here’s the truth: we’ve been conditioned to see ourselves through the lens of oppression, but our story starts long before that. It starts with empires and scholars, with mathematicians and artists, with people who navigated by stars and built structures that still stand today.

So yes, give me Africa 🌍. Let me reconnect with that power, that legacy, that undeniable truth of who we’ve always been. That’s where I’d call home, ha! If I could..

You know, I’ve been sitting with this question, really turning it over in my mind, and the honest answer is yes – I absolutely do need time. We live in a culture that glorifies the hustle, that makes us feel like needing a moment to breathe is somehow a weakness or a luxury we can’t afford. But I’ve learned that time isn’t just something I need; it’s something I deserve.

I need time to process, to reflect, to just be without constantly performing or producing. Time to sit with my thoughts, to hear myself think above all the noise and demands. Time to pour back into myself the way I’m always pouring into others – my family, my work, my community.

There’s this particular weight that comes with navigating the world as a Black woman, always having to be twice as good, always on guard, always representing. That takes a toll, and time becomes essential for restoration. Time to reconnect with my joy, my creativity, my peace. Time to honor my ancestors by living fully, not just surviving.

So yes, I need time. And I’m learning that claiming it isn’t selfish – it’s self-preservation. It’s necessary. It’s sacred.