It’s time to get you and your body on the same team.

Photo by Sanni Sahil on Unsplash

Sometimes it feels like our bodies don’t quite fit. They don’t move how we move. They don’t look or we look. It’s as though we’re buried in a sumo suit of flesh and emotions that don’t accurately reflect who we really are. The real you is less messy, more grounded, less anxious and more confident. The real you is comfortable in her own skin.

We think, this body is not the truth. When we a catch our reflection, we comfort ourselves by saying, “this is temporary.” Then…


Made it out of bed this morning? Take a bow.

Photo by Suad Kamardeen on Unsplash

There is a practice, learned from my friend and facilitator extraordinaire Soyinka Rahim, that I often share when leading groups of color. Standing in a circle, we each say one thing we did that day. The more mundane the better. After each share, the rest of the group claps and cheers uproariously. “I drank a glass of water.” APPLAUSE, CHEERING, HOOTING, ARSENIO HALL-STYLE WOOTING. “I brushed my teeth” FOOTSTOMPING, CHEERING, HUZZAHING. “I ate a vegetable.” HUZZAH, CHEER, STOMP, CLAP.

After each, often hesitant share, we collectively watch as the sharee can’t help but break a smile or laugh. There is…


And it’s mighty uncomfortable.

Photo by Jay Mullings on Unsplash

This writing is for all Black bodies. Black bodies feeling the potency of this moment. Black bodies riding peaks of hope and troughs of overwhelm. Black bodies navigating fogs of anxiety. Black bodies who are angry. Black bodies feeling called to do more. Black bodies who are tired.

Lately, it’s been hard to do much more than the essential. As federal troops occupy and threaten to occupy blue cities, as the country reckons with its violent foundation and perpetuation of systems of racial injustice, I’ve felt I should be doing more. Protesting. Educating. Calling folks in. My body though? It…


White people, don’t ask your Black and brown friends what you should be doing right now for racial justice. Read this instead.

Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash

Note, the following was written for white bodies wondering how to be of service towards dismantling systems of white supremacy. If you’re a Black or brown body, please share this with any white person asking for your support in navigating this time.

“Am I doing enough?”

These past few days as direct-action protests continue across the country, this is the question that’s come up more than any other in my conversations with the well-intentioned white people in my…


For marginalized bodies, liberation requires re-membering ourselves.

Photo by Leighann Blackwood on Unsplash

It wasn’t until my mid-30s that I realized my body was not my own.

By this, I mean my relationship to my body. I thought it was. I thought in the bleaching and ripping of hair, the no-carb dieting, the running, yogaing and weightlifting that I was fully in charge. This was “healthy.” This was “taking care of myself.”

“The Beauty Myth”

There’s certainly nothing wrong with exercise. Bleach, pluck, shave yourself as you please. The problem was that underneath all that “taking care” was an unconscious desire to amend myself to be closer to some idealized standard of femininity. As a brown…


I’ve been starting my mornings by standing naked in front of a full-length mirror.

Photo by Andy Watkins on Unsplash

What is to give light must endure burning. — Victor Frankl

Lately, I’ve been starting my mornings by standing naked in front of a full-length mirror.

I feel the warmth and curve of my underarm and see how the overflow of my breasts has found a soft place to nestle. I notice the growing padding between my thighs that brushes and sticks as I move. I examine the pillow behind my chin and watch how it doubles as I laugh and yawn. Taking in this fullness I say, “I love you exactly as you are right now.”

This is my…


WoC shoulder the burden of keeping it all together when crises strikes; here’s what’s needed instead.

Photo by Christina @ wocintechchat.com on Unsplash

It’s a rainy Sunday morning. I’ve been watching the little Strawberry tree my partner and I planted this winter toss and sway. When we planted her, one could hardly call her a tree — more a sturdy shoot. We used straps to keep her upright. Today though, the straps are off. She’s strong enough to bend and right herself over and over.

I imagine we all could feel some sense of simpatico with this leafy presence bobbing and tipping. Now, in a storm beyond what we’ve collectively faced, daily life is both simpler and more challenging than ever before. We’re…

Kelsey Blackwell

Bi-racial Black womxn writer + somatic coach dismantling internalized systems of oppression for radical radiance ☀️ linktr.ee/kelseyblackwell

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store