Thanks for stopping by. In case you didn’t read my little tagline, I’m a bisexual Black feminist who writes about things mostly related to that. I write for a couple of publications and am the Editor-in-Chief of BLK INK.
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I kind of love animals. I say “kind of” because I didn’t know that for most of my life — I grew up in a no-fur household. This was perhaps my mother's attempt to suppress whatever latent Disney princess powers I have since it seems that no matter where I live, stray pets will find me. As a result, I’ve opened up my home to a lot of creatures over the years (and thankfully found the rightful owners of most of them).
Yet as I’ve come to appreciate animals more as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become far more attuned to…
I would like to take this moment to announce that I will continue waxing poetic about Black women even as Black History Month comes to a close.
As we head into Women’s History Month in March, I thought it would be nice to let everyone know that all of my content will remain more or less the same. As I have remained a woman in Black History Month, I will remain a Black person in Women’s History Month. I also expect to remain queer, for that matter.
I was 11-years-old when I learned how the world saw me.
I loved books as a kid. I was a quiet child, and books were the perfect companions for me. I was one of those students that hid novels under my desk when I was supposed to be reading textbooks. I could finish a 300-pager between breakfast and dinner.
Making friends with librarians was a regular part of my youth because I was always a regular fixture in my school and public libraries. When I entered middle school, Ms. Parks entered my life. I didn’t take the bus and would…
Thinking of the word “insecure” in relation to fashion often conjures up mental images of hoodies, baggy pants, and an aversion to anything attention-grabbing.
I wear shorts and skirts, dresses and blouses, bright colors and patterns (selectively). As a kid, I always enjoyed dressing up and accessorizing. It wasn’t until recently that I would have even considered how much insecurity dictates what I wear. How could that be true when I love clothes so much?
Well, it all comes down to what kind of clothes I like and why I like them. When I’m shopping and something grabs my attention…
“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence. It is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”
This quote has exploded in popularity over the internet in no small part because “self-care” has become a buzzword of the health and beauty industry in recent years. It’s a term that has been perfectly primed to sell everything from “detox” concoctions to makeup kits. It’s a word that looks beautiful in a soft serif font overtop imagery of pastel-colored flowers on an overpriced candle.
It’s a word that’s lost a lot of meaning.
Self-care has been appropriated by companies and…
Virtue signaling | noun.
the sharing of one’s point of view on a social or political issue, often on social media, in order to garner praise or acknowledgment of one’s righteousness from others who share that point of view, or to passively rebuke those who do not
Social media has been a popular breeding ground for activism in recent years, and rightfully so. It’s widely accessible and often allows the most marginalized in our society to have a platform more traditional media forms often deny. …
I have never been cute or delicate. I experienced puberty just before the world developed its fascination with big lips and thick hips. Surrounded by petite white girls throughout my teenage years, my self-perception was warped into a state of ever-present dissatisfaction.
I needed to be skinnier. I needed my hair to be straighter. I needed to take up less space than my three-inches-shy-of-six-feet body would allow.
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
When I first read Maya Angelou’s poem “Phenomenal Woman” every stanza…
I didn’t have a lot of Black friends growing up. For most of my youth, I was in predominantly white classrooms and social environments. I lived in the suburbs with white neighbors. I went to school in predominantly white classrooms. My cousins, who I love dearly, did not live anywhere close to me, and I only saw them on occasions. Perhaps worst of all, I grew up without knowing the magic of Living Single or Girlfriends.
All of which to say I was sorely lacking Black female friendships. Yet even before I had the chance to begin building them, it…
That’s what I’ve been hearing, anyway. Or the future is feminist. The future is this, the future is that. What I want to know is when, exactly, is “the future” going to get here? And what are we going to do about the fact that we are not even remotely ready for it?
Every day I get online to see (still, in 2021) people trying to explain the most basic and fundamental concepts of racism, sexism, and queerphobia. Every day I come to the same conclusion: We are not moving fast enough.
The future is posing a lot of problems.
Bisexual Black Feminist | BLK INK Editor-in-Chief