Reparations Through Reclamation

Whew, it’s time and I’ve finally arrived. I’ve decided, I’m no longer editing my life.

I’m done swallowing my pride

I’m done living a lie

I’m done.

Walk with me here?

The Crossroads

The mirror that reflected the Choice

It’s crazy how often people can serve as mirrors of who we were, who we are and who we can be. This time was no different, even though I felt battered and bruised, you served as a reflection of all I had put into practice, all I’ve learned and what I still needed to tighten up on too.

The biggest lessons reflected: becoming more aware of the difference between emotional urgency and emotional vulnerability, sticky note reminders on how “you are the company you keep” and how potential is only the beginning of what could be, but honesty, reveals the clarity of what it is. You stood before me bare, but unaware of your own truth, a reflection I started to see through.

I chose silence and grace because I thought it was tasteful to know my place. I accepted bandaids over my wounds just to come to your aid, first. I got so used to just making it through, that I was no longer thriving, just waking and surviving alone, beside ya. You served as the greatest wake up call of all:

I’m not editing my life anymore and I’m no longer willing to play small.

While still doing so with tact,

I’m no longer holding back

my truths or mistakes because they are proof that I tried.

While allowing the rivers of my soul to flow

between joy and sorrow my tears serving as signs,

I’m still alive.

Owning all of me, with pride.

Arbutus Street

The Mirror that Reflected the Wound

“Stop Performing” the words that startled me out of a daze. Thrown by the realization that who I was appearing to be, even to me, was not truly Tryce. Shell shocked and confused by the illusion that the world’s a stage and I was just taught how to survive and assume the proper position of the roles I played; masked from society and even myself.

From a young age I was taught that my performance was key in me being seen. Accolades reigned supreme when I danced, got good grades issuing nods of approval, they’d often say “she’s so well spoken and well behaved”. It’s crazy how these things became a cave that buried me from my own light. Continually operating on embedded themes and beliefs that a child should never be heard, only seen. Realizing how deeply rooted these teachings affected how I popped out on the scene, so afraid to be heard, and perceived as me— if I even knew who that really was. Lost in the goldmines of my own wealth. Tiptoeing around the landmines of my own mind. Always seen, never felt. Faded in the backgrounds of my depth with no night light on how to navigate it. I was taught to repress until I found my authentic form and expression, through a mirror who wasn’t here for the likes or impressin’. It’s primary intentions you question? To pull back all the mask, reflect light and a clear reflection…

ME

Reparations as expression cause this is for the homies whose voices were silenced by violence and the systems of oppression.

This is me taking my voice back For Us and By Us, so that the generations beyond us,

have a blueprint that doesn’t require second guessing.

Spinning the Block

The RefLection of Sovereignty

Many times before I would glance at my reflection and that quick exchange embodied the lesson, on how much of my life I had just been flyin through. Not truly seeing myself, living life at glance, fast paced and showing up as palatable to maintain the “love” of family, lovers and friends ( “Usha, Lil John“🗣️). This time though, I’m choosing to take things slow.

A moment of silence for the girl I used to know …

I stare back into the mirror examining the women looking back at me— my past, present and future. New freckles and moles gracing my body as constellations of where I’ve been and serving as maps for exploration. The bags under my eyes not so designer, but symbols of how my soul had grown tired and how dimly lit my internal fire had become; pillows of rest my ancestors were begging me to reclaim. Stretch marks and scars that showed how often I gave in and did bend, still never did I break. Doubling as reminders of how flexible I am, but with boundaries now. Some of these ugly truths making me wince, but still I did not budge as I stood in the mirror long enough to ask myself

“when does this shit end?”

She smirked back at me and responded — “today if you so choose my friend”

Whew, choose? Who knew how much of a choice I had in all of this, my growth, my journey, my bliss and even my own misery? Reflecting now on forgiveness and how long I’ve contributed to abandoning me. Finding the truth in my reflection freed me from the shackles that bound me to a life that wasn’t mine to begin with, but I’m claiming it as mine now.

Jumping off the Porch

Is you with me or what?

Life requires compromise not self sacrifice and now, I understand self clarity and self love as the foundations of true wealth. As I stood at the crossroads of who I was and who I am ready to be, spinning the block on my reflection to see that all along it was me who needed to

see me,

choose me,

be me— relentlessly.

I’m no longer doing it for the clout, but offering myself as a compass as I figure this life and expression shit out. It’s like cooking something from scratch but with the wisdom of all the ancestors and every previous version of me ( shoutout to Jacquie cause I got my recipes back) watching my back. Pushing me forward in support because they won’t let me abort my truth. This version of me deserves its full term and im gona see it through. Pouring out a drank our two for the lost parts of my soul, letting them know these are wholey grounds now and it’s safe to return home— I need all of me.

May I mirror back to you that I am merely a reflection and that you can choose to reclaim your power too

from any time, any place and any space.

Prayers and Libations

I am reclaiming my voice, my body, my time, my energy, my peace, my mind and my clarity in seeing me.

So it is. So mote it be.

Our expression has been deemed as dangerous

but I’m offering an invitation to reframe this

So instead of jumping off the porch on some “stay dangerous”

we jumpin off the porch to reclaim this

Our voice, our stories, our truth

Our hearts, our healing, our proof

That this world is a reflection of our fruits

So, here’s the RAW image

the unedited truth

I am no different from you

You have an option to choose,

I’m reclaiming my voice and expression,

are you down to reclaim yours too ?

Something to Take Home

An invitation for the homies

What makes a reflection so powerful is that it’s RAW and unedited. I invite you to look in the mirror and ask yourself these questions:

What parts of me have I laid down that I’m ready to pick up now?

What parts of me am I done editin’ and suppressin’ (maybe even repressin if you willing to go that deep)?

When I pick them back up, what’s gone be the most authentic form of expression for me?

Thanks for being here, I hope you stay a while

— the WHOLE-istic HOMEgirl (cause you finally home, girl) 🤍