03/09/2026
What does it mean to truly define ourselves?
Yesterday was International Women’s Day. Happy belated!
More and more, I’ve been wrestling with my identity. What does it mean to identify as a Black, woman-loving woman?
Lemme tell you the way, Spillers’ “Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe” has made me question all the labels I’ve clung to.
Lately, in the solitude of my home with Tiff, I said, “I think I’m a nonbinary woman.”
Tiff asked me the question that was ricocheting through my mind as I offered a laugh for a distraction.
What does that mean?
I said something like: it means something more expansive and uncontainable. It means acknowledging the socialization that comes with gender norms, that I am something beyond what can be named as woman or man or even human.
But honestly I’m still trying to find words for what it means to me.
All of this feels incredibly vulnerable to share, especially in a space, like IG, that often desires easy consumption.
I say I am a Black nonbinary woman because I need to acknowledge all the lineages that have lived so I could know life.
I’m grappling with how to honor all parts of myself in a world hellbent on demanding we name it, define it, label it.
I’m reminded over and over again of Lorde’s words found in Learning from the 60s: “If we don’t define ourselves for ourselves, we will be crunched into others’ fantasies of us and eaten alive.” Yet, even when I name and claim myself, folks still project their own images onto me…
Anyways, happy International Women’s Day lol..
P.S. This carousel of images ain’t got nothing to do with Women’s Day. Maybe they are a February dump. Maybe they capture moments when it felt like folks were claiming a part of themselves or their truth or maybe it ain’t that deep and I just wanted them all to be here together. So yeah. ✌🏾