In this particular case, I’ve chosen to use my experience as a case study in an intent to explain the difficulty to box people in, or personal existence in categories and labels.
For the longest of time, I thought I was a victim of my circumstances, living as a Black woman in the wrong place, at the wrong time, not being your usual Caribbean character assuming the typical cultural traits of those I was supposed to represent.
Being the product of a marriage of convenience even if I manage to become a “ sunshine mixed with a little hurricane ”, the miracle two foreign bodies can produce becoming one for an instant, creating new life and new beginnings.
I must admit, I have always felt out of place, trying to conform with what was expected of me. I was brought up in a time in Europe where you could become a female worker with a dedicated career, a wife or a divorcee, a mother with a social life, a house, 2.1 children and a car.
If, you were the European prototype that is.
The only thing I was sure about was that I wanted to be free, not knowing how costly it could be, for someone like me.
I grew up surrounded by women who were impressively strong and fiercely independent. At least, it was my belief, seeing them juggling maternity, work and life on their own, even when there was a partner or husband in the picture; an accessory burden to add to their already heavy load.
And I’m no exception to the typical daughter who turns out to be the opposite or the exact copycat version of her mother when it comes to my relationships with men.
Like a lot of other families, religion was and still is a big issue in my clan, respectability and marriage too, even though I witnessed plenty of false predicaments and self-proclaimed preachers, doing more evil and committing more adultery than any common mortals.
The message that my flesh was synonymous with the devil wish, was passed without interferences, though.
I believe that we have unresolved issues in my community and my family is no exception when it comes to sex, its relation to the body, its correlation with self-esteem, in the tango that is the man versus woman controversial duality, with the purpose of maternity, with emotional or romantic surrender, with cultural conditioning, with ancestral heritage and plantation legacy.
From an Afro–Caribbean point of view, it seems, we as Black women have to be the unconditional giver, the ones who have to surrender our will, our body and heart as well as our life, to be a deserving recipient of love or what they want to call it; as I don’t believe the treatment received can be called love, actually.
The idea that we could aspire to unconditional love as human beings, is yet again, an elusive utopia, considering who we are and where we are coming from. When we are the symbol of the indestructible resilience and survival, as “ the complexity of the Black woman’s psyche has emerged to overcome her racialized condition, to assume the hardship of her existence and specific oppression.”
“ The Angry Black Woman Syndrome, the Indestructible Black Mama and Jezebel archetypes, have become torture and agony for Black women.
There is no room for other representations, to explore deeper into the essence of their femininity.”
Under this premise and these caricaturisations which have become beliefs confused with traditional roles and symbols, it is almost impossible to grant us the possibility to receive something for ourselves which could be:
or even formulate the thought that Black women might strive if they could feel deserving of any of it.
It is not that the Black woman is different or stronger than any other feminine incarnation, but she has no other options than being the backbone of her family and community.
This is how we have survived from the plantation until now, repeating this pattern generation after generation; as she was never granted any other alternative, she simply assumed, it was the destiny linked to her condition.
And I would certainly add the fact that this issue was never questioned until now.
Another great concern arises when we think about the fact that her body was hijacked to essentially be transformed into the great mother figure, the great healer, the great protector of all the members of her community.
Sacrificing herself to attend everybody else pain and needs, left completely empty to attend her own; voiceless as nobody would consider that she deserves credit for so much martyrdom.
There’s a popular saying which states:
“I want Black women to experience love that doesn’t involve suffering first and being glorified later.”
some of us. some of our parts.
have never. felt love. joy. pure
attention. acute connection. and
weare feral. human andferal.
andlife is wilderness. and
lonelinessis family. so please be
gentle. patient. with yourself and
others. some of us. someparts of
us. have been the only person.
only being onearth. from birth.
some of us. some parts of
us are feeling. beautiful things.
for thefirst time.
nayyirah waheed
What our community failed to consider is that respect is never about submission or overpowering but the accolade given for the merit gained as a result of the great efforts and accomplishments during the journey.
An impossible task to perform for the benefit of our resilient women being incredibly brave, maintaining alive by default the matriarchal system imposed in the plantation, mistaken for a patriarchal make-believe today, and being caught between racial oppression and a misogyNoir society.
Our bodies were used to reproduce essentially and keep us from extinction, to overcome the terrible threat of genocide under the slavery era that lasted 4 centuries.
This is how we became accustomed to separating our emotions and affectivity from our sexuality and body.
“ You teach people how to treat you by what you allow, what you stop, and what you reinforce.”
Tony Gaskins
This is the intricate issue, I see in my personal experience as a Black woman. I was never at ease or at peace with my own feminine incarnation growing up or converting myself in a mature woman trapped in a strange body.
Well into my thirties, I started to feel desirable and feminine, but it was not about others perceptions but about my own.
At that time, I was bald, was not wearing any extra like makeup and I was certainly not of the sexy type with that androgynous body of mine.
This drastic change in looks coincided with my second voluntary expatriation, ending up in a remote location, far from the big multicultural metropolis of the north, I was accustomed to.
I converted myself unknowingly into one of the only local specimen of my specific kind. Experiencing a lot of unwanted predatory male attention, was degrading and too much to bear, I must say as my body seems to be available for any passerby, in any given circumstances.
In that local landscape, I started to change, refrain myself from my usual open and friendly self, as it was virtually impossible for me to connect without being subjected and reduced to the role of a sex object.
Another disturbing sensation back then, was the fact that being in the presence of other women, on a girl’s night, supposedly of the friendship kind, none of them would intent to protect me or take my defense in solidarity, when my physical integrity would be threatened in their presence. Being alone, I was attacked in several occasions, this is when I decided to stop dating and became celibate for about 7 years.
Was it an extreme reaction to the hipersexualisation I was experiencing?
Maybe, but I definitely completed at the time my internalising process, to avoid at all costs, being perceived as sexy.
It was actually, quite a relief not to be subjected anymore to the irresponsibility of potential sexual partners, not wanting to use protection, thinking it was the common thing to do for someone like me.
I didn’t want to be used as a mere exotic fetish, as a human sex toy, or become a conscious and active participant in my dehumanization.
A sex doll made of real flesh and blood, to be a recipient for male bodily fluids with no other space to exist.
After, having a go at being the perfect girlfriend in a succession of long term relationships in my twenties. I could tell sex was not taboo or a problem for me and I didn’t need liberation on that part, feeling free enough to explore to a certain extent. But at the same time, I was going through the motions of doing what was expected of me, it didn’t bring me more closeness or intimacy with my partners. I was serving the purpose of being the complacent girlfriend. Reproducing automatically the cultural role, I was fed between the Caribbean and Occidental model.
My chosen celibacy, changed me profoundly.
I started to look at myself for the first time without the need to do it through the eyes of a man. I didn’t need a man to see me to exist or choose me to feel I was enough and whole, or to feel worthy to be called a woman, or because someone had access to my body.
I stop replacing my healing with people.
My body changed slightly and looked like as if I was caught in time, living in this eternal twenty something plastic, when my thirties were already
ending. I was attracting undoubtedly, a lot of young bodies and souls and became an object of desire for men and women alike.
The type of desire, I started to manifest shifted as well, I was now attracted by women, it was about platonic and alterous relationships, deeply felt connections, with emotional closeness but with no sexual, sensual or romantic interest. I didn’t feel the need to be sexually active and didn’t want to be around men’s energy.
As the same time as I was hipersexualised on both side of the spectrum, I was put underneath very severe scrutiny as nobody could understand
or accept my conduct. Other people projections had me sleeping around with any gender I could lay my hands on, or anybody I would have a close friendship with. People’s fantasies about my sexual charisma became my promiscuous reputation.
I had transformed myself in an ambiguous character, I was told I looked like a lesbian but I didn’t feel like one. I still had aesthetic attraction, and appreciation for men physical characteristics, but I didn’t fancy being touched or having a relationship with one.
Since then, I fell back into the typical cultural pattern of wanting to conform to the norm, engaging in yet another heterosexual relationship, conceiving a baby, becoming a mother and inevitably converting myself into the head of the family like my mother before me.
And it was celibacy yet again, for another cycle that lasted almost 7 years, until now.
What I could deduct from the last couple of relationships I had, is this.
I am still conducting an internal battle with myself between the culturally imposed and what I aspire to. It requires a level of honesty with myself first, a lot of personal commitment as it is about self-respect and accepting who I am, what I need and how I expect to be treated.
And I have to assume that not everyone is going to accept or know how to receive this energy but It is as well, about making peace with that possibility and keeping on living.
Evolving from that point is refusing to withdraw my essence for someone else comfort. It’s about accepting that bare minimum love doesn’t exist
and never settling for less than what I deserve.
The only way forward is building healthy and open relationships with others, letting them know who I am without pretending being someone else or having it all together and under control.
“ You can’t be comfortable in your old self and expect your new self to emerge.”
India Ameye
Evolving from that point is refusing to withdraw my essence for someone else comfort. It’s about accepting that bare minimum love doesn’t exist
and never settling for less than what I deserve.
Emotional self-care is essential, becoming more in tune with my own emotions, paying attention to my triggers and thinking patterns and developing strategies, finding tools to work through them.
As I am a creative being, I’m using several sources of self-expression, to allow myself to externalise my feelings as Art is therapy for me.
Another avenue that I find necessary is spiritual self-care, and it has nothing to do with religion.
Going against the grain or throughout internal turmoil or trying to heal trauma has to be done from a peaceful place or mind. It is quite challenging to go through strong feelings or emotions.
We all need to reconnect with ourselves with our centre in search for balance. As you are doing it for you and it is not about other people understanding.
Our people relations are fundamental too, as we are social beings, the important connections in our lives can be live savers.
It is as important to spend quality time with loved ones and trusted friends than taking care of our body in the long run.
I am my ancestresses, my family, my mother, my past, my battles, my scars, my grief, the pain; I can still feel under my skin.
All of it was my building ground, my personal pieces, articulations and bones to constitute my complex existence, for this soul to emerge and evolve constantly.
I believe in destiny as my experiences have become my skeleton, there are my written pages to become, I felt it and survived it.
It’s part of my growth part of my wisdom.
Change takes time…
All we can do is to practise imperfection, accept our flaws if we have any as living creatures, not losing perspective of our mortality, our naïvety and disproportionate ego. We are all unique beings, learning at our own different pace while each one of us has his own journey. We can’t be perfect creatures as perfection doesn’t exist.
We are here to learn essentially and it’s alright if it takes time, if it hurts, and after comes the healing process.
Doing it for ourselves for the ones before us and the ones who will come after us, as we are all interconnected through our blood and bones as the epigenetic demonstrated. We are becoming the new ancestors.
Life is about choice…
Listening to our inner voice, shedding light on expanding our self-esteem as a useful journey to self-love and self-acceptance.
The falling in love starts with ourselves, with the taking care of, as far as finding our way through healing.
Learning to practice compassion, forgiveness, patience, showing respect for who we were and who we are becoming.
“ We lose things to find things, some things we didn’t even know we missed.”
Della Hicks Wilson
It is very clear to me in my late forties what my soul and heart are compatible with. This is most of all an intellectual, emotional and spiritual connection, which is about higher vibration and frequencies, to achieve closeness and intimacy, I have to know the other soul and heart.
“ Intimacy is not purely physical ” as have read somewhere.
“ It’s the act of connecting with someone so deeply, you feel you can see into their soul.”
Sex is not the connection, it leads to attachment.
It can be subsequently a complement to an already existing genuine and profound connection. I do not want to feel intoxicated or disoriented by instant sexual gratification but grounded while experiencing a growing attraction for the other personality, I’m starting to discover and explore.
The free energy and conversations must happen naturally, practising the present moment as worship, and the willingness to go with the flow.
Finding in the other certain stimulus that will engage with my natural curiosity, my necessity to learn from another existence, being aware that we are both mirrors reflecting traits and characteristics of the other, we both have to work on and master. I would find on my part necessary to have in common certain humanist beliefs and ideals.
Communication would be greatly emphasised, to explore each other multifaceted dimensions and views of the world.
Using our voices and its vibration, with our choice of words and silences.
Using our eyes and nonverbal body language.
Telling each other with patience and respect who we are, what we are made of, where we are coming from and maybe where we are going.
Practising kindness avoiding judgment.
Aspirations, hopes, dreams and needs would be expressed with no anxiety or fear of misalignment which could conduct to the loss of the connection.
Learning at the same time to feel comfortable or uncomfortable together, exchanging about what is important in our lives.
I believe there is no right or wrong time to connect with another vibrant soul. Because we attract what we are ready to experience, ready to confront, ready to learn.
I’m learning to honour my truth when I have to make that choice or that commitment, this is the only way to know if it’s right.
At a time where our bodies are still overly consumed commodities for other people pleasure and satisfaction.
At a time where our bodies are still policed, criticised, blamed for being too foreign from the invented White norm which leaves them to exist only as dysmorphic figures.
I choose to occupy my body and not let anyone else do it as I won’t be anybody else’s possession.
I choose not to be reduced for someone else’s sexual desire or fantasy.
I choose to be my own perception of beauty where your ugly will be my beautiful.
I choose no to be yours but mine. As long as I haven’t reclaimed entirely my own body, in the physical realm, emotionally, sexually and spiritually.
Touch and sex don’t mean a thing to me, if my entire feminine incarnation and soul are not at the essence of any encounter with a kindred spirit.
I have this message to convey to all my ladies out there, living the Black woman’s curse, having to play indestructible out of their melanin and feminine incarnation.
In my cherished Caribbean we call her:
« Fanm Poto Mitan »
and she should no longer be a symbol and an aspiration.
As blind self-sacrifice is misery and pain, ending in self-destruction.
This is no longer our earthly destiny if we choose not to perpetuate intergenerational trauma, sacrificing our entire existence for each member
of our community, as the pain is not only ours.
The change must occur from within, nobody else can deprives us from our healing process, it is our sacred gift, it is divine and unconditional love at play. We have also inherited intergenerational wisdom.
Nobody else can do it but ourselves.
You can no longer hide your fragile humanity.
Show the world who you really are, as both sides of you, can coexist.
You deserve to be appreciated, loved and supported.
Strength, Courage and Wisdom
India Arie
