Hoarding does not only look like storing things, it looks like saying yes when we don’t have space, continuing to do task that no longer serves us.... trying to be for everyone. I have been craving to declutter and purge, not only my physical space but how I exert energy.

Emersing myself in things that feed me. In what I actually value rather than what I think I should.

I don’t know who needs this, probably me, but we can lean into who we truly are and move through the world exactly as our soul calls us to be. We will be held in our authentic self and loved as we are.

Some of our joys are not glamorous or picture worthy, they garner no attention but fill us up. They may take years to get good at but we love the process. Let’s do more of that.

Your truth is not debatable. It is yours.

We loose sight of our truth when we make it about others.

A few things to keep in mind. As you make request of yourself and others, practice collective care by keeping in mind many of us are exhausted. Let’s allow this knowledge to help us make space for the fullness of our experience. Let’s be kind to ourselves and others.

It’s all information. All of it. Use it.

It is not possible to do anti-racist work without building sincere relationships rooted in care. If guilt is the root of the connection or seeking someone to explain shit to you.... if you are not doing active support work outside of posting. You have missed the mark.

May my stillness be full.

Freedom is a collective pursuit. We all must be invested in the freedom of others to truly experience our own.

JADE IS A TWISTED GREEN author Tanya Turton recommends books to read for #BlackHistoryMonth and beyond - check out her list on our website now: dundurn.com/blog_/t43181/p…

Writing this piece truly was a gift.

Maybe the reason elders keep saying it gets better with time, is because in time we always return to ourselves because we can’t be anybody but ourselves for too long.

There is nothing you can tell me about me to make me stop loving me. I wish that on all my homies. Black women particularly, because people always tryna tell us something to convince us we are hard to love.

something tells me we always find our way back home - if we are willing.

No one missed me like I missed me the past couple years… no one. The moments we don’t feel like ourselves are reminders that we must hold our pieces close for ourselves… because no one needs me like I do.