I've been thinking about what self-love means to me lately and what it can it look like in this hurt body, in this pained spirit, and tired mind.
I'm a Black queer mentally ill femme; self-love is a fraught ocean to navigate and half the time I feel like I'm drowning in my own trauma and doubt. With all of that, I still walk with privilege that so many others in my community don't get to have.
So what does it mean for us to actively take in love for ourselves in a world that has done everything it can to tell us we are undeserving of love? What does it mean to love yourself through trauma, dysphoria, heartbreak, right in the middle of falling apart for the third time today?