A Release Blessing

I have such an enormous backlog of amazing things to post about but for now, a blessing:

fb status

Image description: a screenshot of a Facebook status that reads:

“I release my parents from the feeling that they have already failed me.
I release my children from the need to bring pride to me; that they may write their own ways according to their hearts, that whisper all the time in their ears.
I release my partner from the obligation to complete myself. I do not lack anything, I learn with all beings all the time.
I thank my grandparents and forefathers who have gathered so that I can breathe life today. I release them from past failures and unfulfilled desires, aware that they have done their best to resolve their situations within the consciousness they had at that moment. I honor you, I love you and I recognize you as innocent.
I am transparent before your eyes, so they know that I do not hide or owe anything other than being true to myself and to my very existence, that walking with the wisdom of the heart, I am aware that I fulfill my life project, free from invisible and visible family loyalties that might disturb my Peace and Happiness, which are my only responsibilities.
I renounce the role of savior, of being one who unites or fulfills the expectations of others.
Learning through, and only through, LOVE, I bless my essence, my way of expressing, even though somebody may not understand me.
I understand myself, because I alone have lived and experienced my history; because I know myself, I know who I am, what I feel, what I do and why I do it.
I respect and approve myself.
I honor the Divinity in me and in you.
We are free.”

(This ancient blessing was created in the Nahuatl language, spoken in Mexico. It deals with forgiveness, affection, detachment and liberation).


Note from Pauline Vetuna: I do not know if this is the true origin of the blessing above. Nonetheless, this text speaks to me right now. Creating my own peace, and I wish you the same. xo


‘You Get Proud by Practicing’

Sharing this poem as it is on my mind.

You Get Proud by Practicingby Laura Hershey. A poem that has inspired many of my disability activist heroes.

Here’s one verse:

Remember, you weren’t the one
Who made you ashamed,
But you are the one
Who can make you proud.
Just practice,
Practice until you get proud, and once you are proud,
Keep practicing so you won’t forget.
You get proud
By practicing.


I do not quite yet have the words to fluidly articulate the decades of damage that I need to get off my chest, so this may be a ramble-y, unpolished post – and I do not apologise for this. It is 4am  on a Monday and I am exhausted by life.

Tonight (or in the early hours of this morning, rather) I was aimlessly scrolling through my twitter feed and saw multiple instances of ableism – someone being compared to a disabled person in order to insult them, another person mocking the body of someone who actually has a history of medical trauma and physical impairment, mental illness shaming, a tweet highlighting the horrifically ableist policies being fought against in the United States, and a despicable headline from BBC News titled “Is having a disabled partner a burden?” – which apparently centres the opinions of three non-disabled women.

I say ‘apparently’ because I did not click on the link itself. I cannot click on links like these. Reading the headline alone triggered an emotional response in me that I would like to say is rare but is in fact a regular occurrence in my life, and has been for decades. That triggering is a regular cause of insomnia, as I stay awake trying with all my might to halt the angry and sad tears involuntarily erupting from my body, in conjunction with memories of the ableist damage my mind, body and soul has been subjected to for most of my life.

Despite a pretty amazing ability to suppress my own emotions in front of people, I read a headline like that (or hear a comment from someone along those lines) and in an instant a barrage of pain memories erupt within me. The pain of being abandoned by a long term partner just a week after declaring an intention to spend life with me, because he could not bear the thought of being with a woman in a wheelchair – prior to the surgery that resulted in me needing one. The pain of being rejected for ableist reasons but simultaneously used, time and time again, by people who have been content to use my life energy to power their own, leaving me empty and further wounded. The pain of accepting abusive and unequal love relationships because I internalised the ableist idea that I could not expect any better.

The pain of being bullied at school because of my physical impairments and trauma. The pain of endless job discrimination and resulting poverty because of my physical impairments and trauma. The pain of traveling for 3 hours in a frail and ailing body with a clinically depressed mind to study at institutions, but being forced out of them because of lack of educational support for my physical impairments and trauma. The pain of being forced out of education because of a lack of accessible public transport and lack of funds for alternative transport because… aforementioned employment discrimination.

The pain of everyone who claims to love you actually being ableist and not giving a fuck nor making any effort to educate themselves about the ableism you face. The pain of supposed allies being so only in word, not in consistent action. The pain of having to constantly ask people to consider not discriminating against you because making something accessible is seen as a charitable optional act rather than the recognition of your basic human right. The pain of being shamed, tone policed and further marginalised by the non-disabled when you have the audacity to express sincere emotions about how awful their ableism is. The pain of all this being preceded by multiple instances of medical malpractice, for which I will never be compensated and for which no apologies were ever offered.

And a thousand other pains I do not yet have the ability to name.

When your mind and body is ill, ALL OF SOCIETY rejects you, over and over. This has been my experience of the disability intersection of my identity – it of course intersects with being a Black woman, being queer, being poor (which for me is directly connected to being disabled, having physical impairments, an interrupted education, and psychological trauma). Navigating a world that tacitly accepts the idea of your inferiority and undesirability is really, really fucking hard. It takes an emotional toll that no amount of super human positive thinking can overcome. And when the people who purport to care about you are ableist too, what are you to do? How do you survive?

I am trying to figure that out.

Just the Messenger’s return.

Bona Marum.

It’s been a long minute since I posted here. That hiatus ends this week. My intention is to publish a post every weekend going forward. I’m also trying to find a way to make this blog more accessible to people with some kinds of disabilities – without changing my writing style. I will be making changes gradually as time progresses and I figure these things out.

Since being away I have been making some lifestyle changes, grounding myself and finding new direction. Soon I will be writing here about some events and initiatives I have been blessed to be a part of or witness here in Naarm (Melbourne, Australia).

Until then, I thought I’d share some clips of one of my new Sheroes below 🙂

I started 2018 at the local gym, working on my new years resolution to make the foundation of my day to day life taking care of and loving this body. The reason for this, other than the fact that I am physically disabled, is that I have spent a large portion of my life so far hating and seriously abusing this body through both active harm and neglect.

Now in my third decade of what I know will be a very long life, it is important for me to make physical self care, which I have always struggled with, a habit. I have gone to the gym almost 5 days a week, every week. I am going again tomorrow. A close friend of mine is generously training me and I envision a time when I will be strong enough and motivated enough to train solo on days when there is no one available to assist me with my program.

Ultimately, I would love to be like this Woman right here – meet 80 year old Ernestine Shepherd:

She is goals AF:

Cried the first time I watched the above clip. May I continue to build this foundation so that my core, my body, my mind and my spirit are as whole, strong, and peaceful as Ernestine’s appears to be. Let it be so.

DIAMOND. Yes I am.

Hello again! As previously mentioned, I will have a new post up at the end of this week.

Today I just wanted to share this poem. It’s by ALPHAMAMA, and it is Divine ❤




These are the words:

Love is a decision, and some decisions are wrong

But when are you gonna learn girl, that you can’t make them meet you there

When you’re giving 100% but they don’t know the value of your wholeness

Guess what – he doesn’t need you, he needs himself

If you are a strong integrated magical being who can stand up and look anyone in the eye with power and pride

And he can’t rise above the sum of his experiences

Then how would he begin to know what you could add to his life?

It’s not his fault; you just don’t know what you don’t know

I know you see the best in him, but you can’t deny the rest of him

And you can’t continue testing him and measuring his answers when they don’t add up

It’s not that he’s just not that into you, it’s that his not into himself yet

He’s scared of his own power and greatness and wants to stay small, and that’s okay

But not for you.

You’re offering a starving man a diamond

But he can’t find the opportunity there because, you can’t eat a diamond

And girl let me tell you this – you. are. a diamond

Endured the condensed weight of your process and experience

That transformed your darkness into brilliant resilience

In a trillion, you are ONE

But some people still want to feel numb and you are Life itself

So go give your life to the sky

Go shoot your beams to the moon and grab your kisses from the stars

Go love the trees and let their leaves stroke your face

Go tell yourself that you’re free and then dance naked to the beat of your own racing heart

Your rhythm is too perfect to slow down for anyone

Your dance is too expert to partner with a beginner

Your life is too precious to waste, waiting for someone to step up and meet you where you are

No Queen, you do not need a King, you do not need a thing

You have all that you are, and that, is enough.


New look, updated blog.

Good morning. I have finally updated and renewed the blog! And changed the appearance of it.

Please have a look at the new pages (top menu bar). I will have a brand new post up later next week.

Here’s the new look:



Harsha Walia Interview – Defining Border Imperialism

Highly recommend watching and absorbing the knowledge Harsha Walia shares in this – it will take just 13 and a half minutes out of your day: