we often shame our younger selves...
...when we should be thanking them.
i often look back over these images of myself, and i smile. this woman was wild and on the brink of the most fulfilling and fecund season of her life. a seven-year season, to be exact.
they were taken in December 2014. at the time, my public ministry was taking shape, and i wanted some new pictures to capture the moment. i’d recently colored my hair, just for fun, and to be honest, i was feeling myself. when i beheld myself, i was starting to physically see the grown woman i’d always imagined myself becoming.
i was tapping on thirty years of age. i was in the throes of my Saturn Return, and i could feel a “Capricorn combustion” coming on strong. my fellow Caps, and anyone who has intimacy with one of us, know that a Capricorn will try, try, try, and try again. we will hold on and work as long as we can, until all of a sudden, we just stop. these combustions may seem pyrrhic, but in reality, they’ve been brewing for quite some time. nevertheless, i knew that a change was on the horizon, and that it was necessary.
i was also facing the imminence of the dissolution of a marriage that lasted for four years. prior to this, i’d only seen divorce “up close and personal” once, and it was disastrous. it was one of the saddest situations that i’d ever experienced, and it didn’t even happen to me. so, when i was facing a divorce of my own, i was terrified that i, too, would be so devastatingly sad. i didn’t want that for myself. for the record, i wouldn’t want that for anyone.
i also knew, however, that my only other option was to stay stuck.
stuck in a marriage that drained me of my energy, my passion and my power.
stuck in indecision, slowly resenting myself for not being more resolute and taking more decisive action.
stuck in a cycle of “trying everything, just in case, “ even though i knew. i knew.
i knew that i wasn’t well, and i certainly wasn’t happy.
i knew i was worthy and deserving of more.
i knew that good intentions would not be enough.
i knew that i wanted something different.
i didn’t necessarily want “love” because it had made me so weary. i didn’t want romance, because it was so fleeting. i didn’t want partnership because i couldn’t fathom caring more for someone else’s needs than my own. i wanted something radically different from what i had known, and what i had witnessed during my upbringing. i wanted freedom. i wanted to come home to an empty home of my own design. i wanted to make my own decisions and manage my own finances. i wanted to choose my lovers and dictate the terms of our engagements. i wanted to travel. i wanted to explore and expend the possibilities for my life while i was still young.
i wanted to sit in silence and embrace the solitude of my own company. i wanted to orient myself to my own presence. i wanted to enter into a level of intimacy and nearness with myself. i wanted to know, and to give myself, self-love. i grew up in a community where marriage was the dominant narrative and the preeminent image. what would it mean for me to explore alternative models of romantic partnership? what would it mean for me to possibly forego the entire institution, and live my best Eartha Kitt, “compromise for what,” life? what would it mean for me to be a free woman who fell in love for seasons and reasons, and not necessarily for forever? my mind raced, and my heart filled, at the possibilities.
i smile at these pictures because i see a woman who, despite her deep pain and dissatisfaction, was profoundly tapped into her intuition. she was sold on a vision of her life, and somehow, she found the faith and courage to make the change for which she so deeply yearned. i’m grateful because she thought of me, the future iteration of herself, some years down the line, and she decided that if she was ever going to manifest the life she envisioned, she’d need to make some sacrifices. i remember how determined i became when i considered the woman i would become as a result of the choices i needed to make in that moment. i remember the fear that ran through her body, but i also remember how light she became when she realized that she was smart enough, industrious enough, and loved enough, to figure it all out. i remember how powerful she became when she started to believe that no matter what, everything would be alright and that all things would work in her favor.
we often shame ourselves for the decisions that we made when we were younger, thereby straining our relationships with our inner children. our inner twenty-somethings. our inner fill in the blank. though we may be wiser now, we don’t always stop to give honor to the wisdom we possessed when we were younger. we don’t always acknowledge that in some ways, our naïveté served us well. we don’t always look back and give some well-deserved flowers to our younger selves, for the hard choices we made, the faith we embodied, and the risks we were willing to take in order to actualize our highest selves and manifest our most sacred dreams.
so, while i could give her all kinds of advice and drop some gems, i would begin by praising her for her self-awareness and attunement to the sound of her own genuine. i would marvel that despite all that she had experienced, she maintained her sensitivity of spirit and softness of heart. i would extol her for courageous walk into the unknown, and for her willingness to do the hard work of healing and rebuilding that lied before her. i would speak words of tenderness to her, calling her back to her innate curiosity, self-love, and self-compassion. she was not a failure, despite the inner voice of condemnation that told her so. she was bold, full of faith and worthy of her every her dream and desire.
most of all, i would thank her for the deference that she showed to her inner knowing, and for standing on what she knew that she knew. she knew what she wanted. she knew how she wanted to feel. she knew that she was worthy of a passionate life and beautiful love. she knew that she needed to heal to her wounds, but that this wasn’t synonymous with living with them. she knew she needed help and that she couldn’t change her life without the help of her village.
i would let her know that by honoring her intuition, she took her place in a lineage of Black women who “trusted their guts,” faithfully believing that the Spirit would never mislead them. maybe these weren’t the most religious women, but they knew God. they communed with Spirit and the great cloud of ancestral witnesses, and they identified themselves as the daughters of those Great Celestial Beings. they knew that as such, they would never be forsaken or abandoned. they would always be taken care of. they weren’t afraid of the wild, and they knew that somehow, they would survive it.
these weren’t the most domesticated women, but they built homes, lives and entire movements on the foundational idea that every woman is her own agent. these women may not have known all of the information or possessed all of the insight, but they didn’t doubt that they could obtain whatever they needed to achieve safety and satisfaction for themselves and the ones whom they loved. they believed that they could get from here to there, that they could weather change and transition because surely, it would be better than the underwhelming present.
seven years later, i would simply say to her,
thank you, neichelle.