Where is that Child, This ain't for you

I went wandering...

Romans 8
14 The true children of God are those who let God’s Spirit lead them. 15 The Spirit that we received is not a spirit that makes us slaves again and causes us to fear. The Spirit that we have makes us God’s chosen children. And with that Spirit we cry out, “ Abba,[b] Father.” 16 And the Spirit himself speaks to our spirits and makes us sure that we are God’s children. 17 If we are God’s children, we will get the blessings God has for his people. He will give us all that he has given Christ. But we must suffer like Christ suffered. Then we will be able to share his glory.

I went wandering...

 Taking a quest hoping for a new way of thinking. Fore a stressed while, I only felt safe enough to live within my thoughts. Never before have I felt so threatened to speak, again. Damn, my voice makes them that mad? Must be something wrong with me. "Free me" ain't English, so let me figure out how to talk to them better. But, some days my mind is just too tired and my  thoughts get weary. Depressed tryna learn how to get you to learn. Internally I became angry and impatient with myself. I did not know who was right. Maybe I am criminal and ignorant. Maybe I am an overthinker, over analyzer, over the top... anxiety said. And I let the anxiety and fear talk to me because I do feel very passionately about what is right and wrong. I cannot stand injustice- it is a sickening sight no one deserves to bear alone. So, for the right answers- to calm me down

I went wandering...

Learning is my escapism, my literal liberation. Quickly we learn that liberation is nothing that can be achieved without struggle, questioning of self, and pain. And I stepped on thorns before knowing what they truly stung like. Adrenalin kept my head up, but numb for about 2 more weeks. But the holes in my feet began to puss. Ain't no such excuse as getting tired when you're wandering. Searching for answers in books, relationships, google, myself, prayer, sex, myself and myself. Still frustrated, irritated by the sting of my wounds. They will not heal I cried every day on the inside. Why does it still burn once the torn has been removed? I begged my ancestors. 

Wandering...

 I began to cry. Outside. In front of people, while reading books, watching movies, receiving good news, thoughtful gifts, and running in the arms of distant family. Crying at the reassuring sight of myself within all these God given things. I cried like hell. Cried at the possibilities. Some nights, I wanted to wander in the water just to get to the moon. Only 2 inches away from the edge. Just a brave foot. There was no strength inside me and I cried harder. And the tears ran down my legs, in-between my toes, reaching the soles of my feet. The saltiness stung my wounds shut. New feet made me search more, in new people, places, and things. Found me some shea to heal my soles and toes. Rubbed it real good in my chest to get to that soul too. 
I wandered into someone and they told me "You gotta have heart." I listened. I can't count how many of my folks told me stuff like that. Oh and "Girl, you better grow some thicker skin." Maybe because Black is an extra layer of skin, and woman is a deeper layer of courage. "What the fuck did I get myself into??" I've been crying since birth. Many tears, but the walk got warmer. Ain't quite seen the light, but God I feel it. God, I found it. A rainbow in my tear. 

I'm calling July 5th, 2016 my liberation day. The day, the time, the heartbeat where I fully decide to commit to the journey to forever letting go fear. 

I wrote to myself: 

Dear Kayla, 

You earned your freedom at birth, do not listen to otherwise. You have the right to say whatever the hell you want. Use your magic, protest and stop whatever injustice that invades your homeland. Love whomever and however you please. Write whatever your Truth moves you to. We good, so you good. 

SIS2SIS Maya Angelou Is So Proud of Toya Wright

Sister 2 Sister is fictional platform I came up with that displays the conversations, jokes, and moments of intimacy I think some of my favorite Black, woman writers and artists (historically and currently) would have with each other. I will be hosting the dialogue and mashing up my own personal lines with actual quotes from these women. We all learn from our ancestors experiences, and this is my expressive way to do this! Enjoy ♥

A Tuesday Afternoon Sit Down with Maya Angelou and Toya Wright

Please welcome, the vibrant, American reality TV star, businesswoman, and author Antonia 'Toya' Wright!
And, the PHENOMENAL, author, poet, playwright, stage and screen performer, director, former nightclub singer, Maya Angelou!

This conversation shared the heart felt theme of positive, Black womanhood and defying the stereotype of inherent failure. We are more than our past.

The majority of this conversation excerpt will be celebratory toward Toya Wright, who is the author of Priceless Inspiration and her new novel How to Lose a Husband! When she first hit the hip hop scene, she was only know as Lil Wayne's babymama. But in her life Toya always fought to be more than just a baby mama. Her own mother abandoned her when she was young, but left her with written testimonies that now inspires women all over the world. Toya Wright has reclaimed her name through truth telling, being an amazing mother and human, and lastly by putting her happiness first and Maya Angelou is definitely affirming!

Here is a excerpt.... 

JOHNSON: It feels amazing to be the presence of two very pivotal Black women writers. Thank you! My first question has to be to Toya. What not only led you but inspired you to write your first fictional novel, How to Lose a Husband?

WRIGHT: Well, Kayla. My husband and I were going through some rough times. Accepting my new success as a businesswoman and author was really difficult for him on top of other personal issues, which I definitely understand. “You see he’s acting out on Instagram. How he chooses to deal with his stuff is how he chooses to. How I choose to deal with mine is different. I’m hurt too. I decided to write a book called “How To Lose A Husband" (Wendy Williams Interview). This is a fictional novel based off real situations. It’s like a modern day Waiting to Exhale. The moral of my story is, you have to be whole before you commit to being someone’s half. I was pumped by the feedback of my last book to try something new, which turned out to be the extra push I needed to complete this project. Art imitates life! *laughs*

ANGELOU INTERJECTS: See, Ms. Antonia Wrights slays, because through her existence she understands that “Image making is very important for every human being. It is especially important for black American women in that we are, by being black, a minority in the United States, and by being female, the less powerful of the genders. So we have two areas we must address.” And she does that so truthfully in her art. She challenged all stereotypes against her by putting herself at the forefront of this necessary dialogue with men.

WRIGHT: *blushes and warm smiles*  

JOHNSON: Ms. Angelou, what advice do you have for Toya and other Black women who are trying to heal through writing?

ANGELOU: *laughs* Ahh, there is so much advice. Paracelsus once said, “The main reason for healing is love.” And if we want love which I know we all desperately want, "Take a day to heal from the lies you've told yourself and the ones that have been told to you.” The art form that healing manifests into is up to the human being. It may be poetry, prose, a song, or an essay, but the art will happen. Ain’t that right Ms. Toya?

WRIGHT: *laughs and winks*