I think sometimes it’s easy to think everything has to be hard. I used to be one of those who wore “I work best under pressure” like a badge. And sure, underestimate me at your peril. 🤷🏾‍♀️ BUT some of that mindset caused me to become comfortable with constant chaos. If I’m honest, I started needing it. It became a way to receive validation. “Oh that Tracey, you can throw anything at her and she’ll still get the job done.” “Tracey is such a survivor! She can handle anything!”

Umm...yeah, stop that.

My “bounce back” game was STRONG strong, to the extent that when joy and peace and love arrived, I struggled. “Wait, you mean there’s no pain here? No pushback or resistance? How do I even function? How am I going to prove my worth?”

It’s twisted, right? Because here’s the gag: I was already worthy. Already loved.

Resilience is a core trait of mine. That’s probably true of most Black folks. It’s a muscle we’ve carefully built over the course of living because...*gestures wildly at the world* For me, it’s been wonderful to beat the odds. And we should absolutely celebrate those who have been able to change their story and the trajectory of your lives.

HOWSOMEVER...and stay with me now...what if everything doesn’t have to be a fight? What if you don’t need adversity ALL THE TIME in order to live your “best life”? What if healing comes with knowing how to ALSO hold joy and peace and love and quiet when they arrive—as much as we know how to hold pain and pressure and chaos?

What if we all flourish JUST as much when our external world is at rest as we do when it’s at war?

What if we spent every day curating joy and peace and love as we walk our healing paths?

This is what I hope to do. With my words. With my art. With my stories. To acknowledge the pain, but also hold that pain in the light of joy and love.