When a woman knows her worth, confidence looks dangerous on her. She’s schooled in putting out her own fires. She strategic in problem-solving. Resourceful— having all potential logistics in place. No matter how a situation will land, she’s well aware of her options. Often times having plan A through Z already in her head. And if not, life’s résumé has conditioned her how to land on her feet. Because she’s come to the realization that only God will never leave her nor forsake her. She becomes aware not to put all her confidence in mankind—to watch in silent observation, the actions of others and move accordingly. Because there’s a time when there is no safety in numbers. Sometimes, it is necessary for you to be alone in your thoughts, instead of having others to bring clutter, making a bad situation more complicated. Especially when they may be the ones causing the issue. And me personally, am not trying to RSVP to misery. Because we all know that misery loves company. So in essence, once a woman comes to that realization that she can handle hers, she doesn’t need anyone to help her in that endeavor. Chaos will have to flee—allowing peace to enter in. With Christ all is possible. That part. Once a woman has peace all by herself, and has managed to maintain it for a while, she becomes dangerous, indeed.

My wine down doesn’t understand the concept, except when I’m nodding off. My mind is constantly thinking not only what I had done for the day, but what I haven’t done—with more piling on that I need to attempt to get done, the next day. Always another fire to put out. Always overwhelmed in my adulting. Life… always life-ing.

Born female raised revolutionary To be born, is a revolutionary act, not only for females, but for every person of color. And for the mother to have melanin and get proper healthcare to carry to term, is a miracle. That is the 1st feat. The other is in the raising of the child. But the thing of it is, there is no handbook or blueprint that guides Parents in terms of the perfect way to bring up a child. It’s always been more of a challenge for us—all things being unequal. But then we inherited hardships in our culture. And some are doing the best that they can, with what they’ve been handed down. Quite a few of us are used to hand me downs. Some of these outfits are presented to us, torn, tattered, buttons missing, thread bare— and we’re expected to be grateful for their lack of protection over our young bodies— without the proper fit. Some of us were blessed enough to have those parents that were determined to give us newer or different garments of love and care. Because they wanted better for us, than how they were raised. And with each generation in my lineage, the garments had less and less rips. Showing a bit of fading in the fabric, yet still wearable due to the quality in the material. For me to still be here, is a revolution. To be able to use what was passed down—and take it for what it’s worth. And per Nikki Giovanni poem—repurpose it to a quilt. And that is quite revolutionary.

@Naomie Thomas thank you for that. In truth, I know I’m probably gonna have to tweak it more at some point— but I appreciate the nuggets that you found in the piece.

@Michelle Cox

@Tierrah Nicole