sHewOlfe @shewolfe555 - Tumblr Blog

rouje

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

shymagnolia

okay so i just got my dream job??? a week after applying to it?? and now i’m thinking….maybe this is the good luck post

flagellant

…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment

likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post

coffee-or-hot-cocoa

i need all the help i can get for finals

finnglas

Hey so

the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.

So you know.

This might be the real one, y’all.

gnossienne

Mahmoud Darwish, Journal of an Ordinary Grief (يـومـيـات الـحـزن الـعـادي), 1973

Grounding

Day 9 of #28daysofselfloveselfiechallenge

My hair. It’s been a hard journey of self love. Sometimes I’m painfully aware of how my hair is considered at the margins of what is love appreciation and beauty. Then I remember I am in control of what messages and narratives I invest in and how I treat myself and the beautiful crown I possess. My relationship with my hair hasn’t been linear. I gave up perms over 10 years ago but I haven’t embraced everything that is “natural” about my crown or what is/isn’t natural. I’m still searching for self determination and self love with my locs. I’m still searching for my ancestors and myself. Sometimes I love my curls but only when they’re curly. Sometimes I love my fro but only when it’s long and fluffy. I’m still working still searching for loving this part of me.

Day 6 #28daysofselfloveselfiechallenge

My button nose. 👃🏾.

Day 5 of #28daysofselfloveselfiechallenge

And it’s all about the brows. I love my brows. They’re perfect. I keep them threaded to perfection. Their thickness never fails me. BLESS 🙌🏾

Day 4 of the #28daysofselfloveselfiechallenge

My hands. I love my hands. I haven’t always loved my hands. I don’t always appreciate my hands. I let gender norms dictate how I feel about their softness, beauty, and aesthetic. But these are literally my grandmothers hands. Wide knuckles from generations of slavery and hard work. Long palms and short fingers. Wide nail beds. Strong nails (when I’m not biting them). I hurt my hands a lot. That’s when I know I’m rushing and not paying attention and need to move into my mindfulness. I always scar that first knuckle and I need to kiss it love it. Be tender with it more often. My fingers dictate my life’s work. They give form to my thoughts and dreams and dissertations. I love my hands and my grandmothers hands. We are beautiful in ways not defined by gender. We are beautiful in ways defined by gender. May they stay graceful adorned and loved.

Day 3 of the #28daysofselfloveselfiechallenge

My eyes. Soulful. Old. Young. Bright and passionate and spirited. Brown like earth. Like god. Like love and family and ancestors. Red from staring at screens all day. Bursted vessels from childhood play and swollen nerves from family genes. I love my eyes. Through them I see. I have the power to gaze. To avert gaze. To make clear and communicate without words who I am where I stand and what I need. I have the power to hold others. To show love softness and care. To be careful and say it’s okay and I love you without opening my mouth. I take in each detail and breath and moment in my mindfulness and even when they’re closed I gaze inward to myself. My inner thoughts and knowing. I love my eyes. Things seen and unseen. I love which ancestors eyes I have. Their almond shape and openness. Thank you.

Day 2 of the #28daysofselfloveselfiechallenge

And I’m better I’m better I’m better I’m better

Today I focus on my lips. Sensuously curved plump and passionate. I’m grateful for the ways my lips form my words whisper my wants and wail when needed. I’m grateful for how my lips tighten in distress and smile when the sun graces them. I’ve always loved my mouth, my lips, and this part of me feels easy to love and I’m even grateful for that. The lips that kiss curse purse and pause. The lips that play. I love these lips and I’m glad they’re mine.

#28daysofselfloveselfie

Day 1 of the #28daysofselfloveselfiechallenge.

My work. I love my work ethic. And how u wrap my scarves and layer up. Today, I appreciate my cheekbones. Full and high they give my face a rounded angle, a blend of machining and feminine beauty. They embrace my lips and cheeks and when held, they’re soft or stern. They mold, accentuating each feeling and fear I have yet to express. Before I speak, witness my words in my cheeks.

#28daysofselfloveselfie #blackhistorymonth #blackherstorymonth

Today I’m beginning a #28daysofselfloveselfie challenge in honor of Black History/Herstory month and radical self love. Each day I’m going to post a selfie on Tumblr with and affirm one thing about myself. Some days it may be a poem, a quote, a song, or just a word. But I’m going to take each moment in fully and meditate. What does it mean to love myself as a Black woman? To love my hair, my skin, my smile, my body, just as it is. In the midst of age change and transformation juxtaposed with the male gaze, white supremacy, objectification, hypersexualization and masculinization of my womxness? I’m going to wrestle with the narratives, archetypes, and archives of self slander shame and pain. I’m going to wrestle and hopefully free myself into a little more love gentleness and acceptance.

#Spotify

thefreeblackwomanslibrary

“I am not tragically colored. There is no great sorrow dammed up in my soul, nor lurking behind my eyes. I do not mind at all. I do not belong to the sobbing school of Negrohood who hold that nature somehow has given them a lowdown dirty deal and whose feelings are all hurt about it. Even in the helter-skelter skirmish that is my life, I have seen that the world is to the strong regardless of a little pigmentation more or less. No, I do not weep at the world—I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.” - Zora Neale Hurston from her essay, How It Feels to be Colored Me, 1928 ⭐️

Its Zora Neale Hurston Day!!! 🎉🎉

Make a donation to The Free Black Women’s Library gofundme in honor of the great writer, scholar, historian and world traveler. ♥️🖤♥️

Please CONTINUE TO DONATE AND SHARE THE GOFUNDME LINK IN BIO!!

Thank you!!

#happybirthdayzora

#zoranealehurston

#freeblackwoman

#capricorn

#TFBWL