“I come from a lineage of Warrior Women”

“I knew that I could make a difference in the world, one bold stroke at a time.”

“Come witness my journey / Be delighted in my self-respect”

“I cannot run forever. Sometimes, just sometimes, I have to face the things that I am running from, without fear, and that will free me from them.”

“If I stopped looking for everything I lack, I could allow myself to expand.”

“Somehow, though, there was a chapter slowly closing all the pain to allow me to acknowledge myself, the anger now the knowledge of my experience.”

“I followed and trusted the words of the Sunset—my guide and subconscious voice: the Holy Spirit. This allowed me to discern that things will not fail for me unless I let them; mindset is everything.”

“I’m constantly feeling like a fraud.”

"The mirror of truth, / the shame and pain of emptiness, / of lack, / of defeat."

“But when the interview was long over and there was no longer any pressure on me to deliver a neat answer; when I was in bed tossing, turning, and poring over the minute details of my day; when I had seemingly all the time in the world as the night stretched before me, I still had trouble hitting the bullseye. Almost like I didn’t know myself — like there was a schism of the self.”

This poem sends a message to not hide and to not fear loving or being who you are.

What could go wrong when watching Pink Panther?

A journey within to remember the essence of your true Self

She is walking into me, we are becoming.

But being me is what brings me peace. / What others think, / Will never give me this ease.

I hate birthdays. Or to be more precise, I hate the feeling birthdays give me. Most especially, I hate my own birthday.

For the many me's - who see in you, identity.

Placing the power to define your identity in the hands of others only makes you a prisoner to their definition.

I can’t really give her any advice, but I really feel like I need to talk to her. I need to let go of the burden on my shoulders and talk about how much I’ve changed and how much I’ve lost myself. 

Analysing and navigating through a range of identities.

This poem delves into the insecurities that people face when they imagine what their metaphorical “box” may have inside.

Things I could do with my time: Cook nshima and kapenta. Cook visashi. Crotchet products from chitenge. Knit products from chitenge. Speak to my parents about a history they had long left behind and refuse to revisit. Speak to my father about his life in Egypt. Speak to my mother about her life before my father. Speak to myself. Things I do instead: Have an existential crisis, several crises.

Though I am a mother, I am an individual who believes that motherhood should not strip away your identity; it also should not stop your internal and external growth, success, and fun.

I’m relearning how to love and honor my inner voice and spirit; I’m reprogramming the negative thought patterns and destructive self-talk that triggers self-doubt to rear it’s ugly head.

Feel empowered in your own skin.

“Closing her eyes and beginning to run her right fingers through the strings playing the tune of her soul, she softened.”

“Strengthening my relationship with my hijab was key to fostering a healthy relationship with myself. And by doing so, I learned that being a hijabi is about recognizing the strength it takes to look past the surface to uncover true beauty.”

The most important search of my life…

Musings on African identity: to mixed children, my thoughts go out to you as you would feel quite like me.

Dissected, chopped and carved, like a butcher’s plaything / I am repeatedly punished everywhere I reside.