More Fluid Thoughts on Fantastical Fake Mystics…
I once had a preacher tell me that if I were to lose weight, God would finally release His blessings onto me. He said I needed to prove to myself and to God that I had discipline and willpower so that the love of God would finally be shown to me. “Fat = bad,” so therefore I was morally corrupt. According to this preacher, my fatness was the reason why bad things kept happening to me. My overdeveloped breast at age nine was the reason men lusted after me – assaulted me even— which was my fault, too. It didn’t matter how much I prayed or how kind I had been to people; God wouldn’t love as much as he could have because of my stomach, said that preacher. Another preacher I knew gave a sermon on how silly it was for Black people to protest police brutality. Soon after, I would find myself leaving the church for good and I followed the neo-spiritualists on Instagram and Twitter. They, too, would say things like “fat carries negative energy and blocks your chakras” or “femininity is divine so therefore we should submit to masculine energy because it is our nature.” I soon figured out that most people on this planet don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. Spirituality has been a burdensome and benevolent journey for me. I left the church because of the harm that was done to me and my people. And then, as I leaned into new age spirituality, I started to hear the same old conservative talking points mixed in with Hoodoo Instagram witches and recently realized gurus who sell teas that apparently cure cancer. “Detox your colon to get rid of parasites that are affecting your womb and ability to have children and don’t forget to rub your snake oil on your temples before bed” should have been their slogan, but it’s not as catchy as “Positive Vibes Only.” I can recount the numerous times that both pastors and gurus have blamed the individual for their circumstance and echoed various sentiments of all the “isms” and “phobias”. So, what are we – people who enjoy the catharsis of spirituality— to do when our bishops and Babalawos reiterate western colonialism? What do we do when the people who we uphold and regard in the highest order mimic our oppressor? The answer – for me— is simple: We move. We move and re-center each other and build community and make sure that compassion and humanity is at the center of every value we hold near and dear. We embrace all people regardless of ability, sex, gender, class, etc. and imagine and work to create a better world. I, for one, am starting with myself by questioning everything that I learned and understanding it to be indoctrination. What can I unlearn today that will push me towards a more compassionate version of myself? Who can I be in community to with to help create a safe and sustainable society? This journey will be tiring. This journey will be both a blessing and a curse just like how spirituality was for me. But the blessing will prevail. Together we will create a world where no one worries about not receiving blessings from deities above based on their abled-bodiness or blackness or fatness. We will create a world with our own hands where all are blessed and wanting nothing simply because we are human.
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More Fluid Thoughts on Religion and Spirituality.
God is supreme. God is wonderful. But, do we really know God if we don’t challenge authority? It is not my intention to dissuade people from religious practices. I choose to simply share my experience. I watched children (myself included) beaten by adults who claim to have the authority of God as to not spoil the child by sparing the rod. Whether we held our tongues in fear or watched in favor of it, no one challenged the authority of a zealot committed to ridding the sinful ways of the world in a child. I for one think that it’s time we question antiquated practices from unproven and out-of-context scriptures. Do we really know God if we ignore our intuition? The voice inside our head that tells us to wait ten more minutes for the weather to clear up before we drive. The loud whisper we hear in the middle of the night telling us to get up when something is wrong. Overtime, we tend to ignore it or bury it under the work day as we exchange our exploitation for small wages. The ephemeral ways of life seem more permanent then they actually are and somewhere along the lines, God becomes our societal conditioning. That changed for me when I decided to be guided by my voice and not a man in suit behind a pulpit. Listening to myself, journaling, deep breathing, and prayer have now become my church. I seek my own counsel with meditation and a lit candle. And when my thoughts are quiet and my mind stops racing, I find the answers. There was no need for me to get up and go to a place deemed “the house God” when my body is already a temple. I always ask for the counsel of the Universe/God or the heavens on high and so far, it seems to be working.
More Fluid Thoughts on Hair in Black Culture and Femininity
Many cultures attribute long hair, small features, and even a demure personality as traits meant to express feminine beauty. This is especially true in Western culture. But, what happens when you don’t fit any of the criteria? I’ve spent the majority of my life looking for ways to “fit the criteria” or finally become a match. I believed that once I did fit in with everybody else, then I would finally achieve happiness. When it came to my hair, my behavior was no different. I took to mentally flogging myself each day as I treated my short hair like an unwanted condition. I was not to be seen without a weave or braids or some form of hair extensions. It was the confidence I lacked; the joy I sought. Hair was my precious diamond worth more to me than my reputation. I would think that even if people disliked me, they wouldn’t be able to say that they hated my hair. I remember the grueling process of sitting in between my mother’s legs on a bed of pillows as she braided, twisted, combed, relaxed, pulled and permed my hair. The chemical burns from the relaxer being left on too long would leave my skin patchy and filled with pus as my skin attempted to heal itself. But, no matter how much pain was inflicted upon me, I accepted it as a way of life. Until, one day, I didn’t. That day in the bathroom when I heard my own voice inside of me, time stopped. I’m not one for clichés, but not only did I see the light, I felt it: the freedom I’d been searching for my whole life; the freedom to just exist as I am. It was the first step and conscious effort I took in the journey of self. Each and everyday, I am glad I did. No more being concerned about what others thought. No more holding myself to the standard of insecure people who were just as lost and tormented as I was. From that moment, I loved myself.
More Fluid Thoughts on Fatness and Fatphobia
I’ve lived my life in a constant state of rejecting my own body. If you’re struggling with internalized fatphobia, I’m here to tell you that it’s most likely going to get worse before it gets better. I reached an extreme low when I started started choosing the body type I desired based on Instagram models who have paid for their bodies. “I want her ass, with such and such’s hips, and definitely ms. thang’s titties.” Now, keep in mind, I am not by any means surgery shaming, but I continued to immerse myself in a world that provided me with unrealistic body expectations. I based the value of my femininity on how small my waist should be and how fat my ass could be if I did enough squats. And, the truth remains, that I still have the desire to look like that. But, I am working towards more sustainable health goals instead of solely focusing on what I look like on the outside. Physical appearance means nothing if you’re not okay in terms of overall holistic health. To combat this deeply rooted body insecurity, I’ve committed to a yoga practice of three times per week since mid-February, attend weekly sessions with my therapist, and I have just resumed the supervision of a clinical dietitian to help me set realistic nutrition goals. Each and everyday I am unlearning bad habits and harmful ways of thinking, but it truly is about progress and not perfection. Some days, I’m on fire as I go to yoga, eat mindfully, meditate, and accomplish goals outside of work AND get 7 hours of sleep. But, other days are almost the exact opposite and I’m figuring out that it’s normal for a 20 something to not have it all together. The very same unrealistic expectations I apply to my body I also apply to my life in general. But, we thank our stars for therapy. I don’t have it all figured out, but I’m way further along in my self-love journey than where I began. I am finally understanding to trust the journey and not to over-anticipate the destination. This isn’t even new information to me, but it does help to reiterate what I already know to really ground myself so that I can stay the course. And, when I take a beat to just listen to what I need and ignore what the world expects, I feel a peace that allows me to move forward. So, keep at it. Take small steps. And, let’s love ourselves enough to do no harm to our bodies.
— Fluid Flower