why i wrote a book

When I worked a traditional 9-to-5, I remember some days feeling overcome with anxiety. I would sit in my cubicle trying to be “productive” all the while dreading whatever meeting was around the corner. Often these meetings centered around some new initiative that would invariably mean more work for my colleagues and me without much incentive beyond keeping our jobs. 
 
The expectation was that we would feel excited by the new “growth opportunity” before us; that we would be eager to disrupt the market, challenge competitors, and educate the masses. I couldn’t fathom why the higher-ups believed we would buy this. We were all cogs in the wheel of a for-profit company. More revenue for the business did not translate to our paychecks or even our job security.
 
No one talked about the stress of navigating an environment where the pressure to excel was unsatisfiable. An undercurrent of fear, that if we didn’t prove ourselves, we’d be the ones axed during the next round of layoffs, kept us hustling. We performatively rallied around every new opportunity before us and built a culture rooted in self-sufficiency, dependability, and “hard work.”
 
The anxiety I felt impeded my ability to show up at the office how I hoped.  
 When I wanted to project an image of confidence, my voice faltered.  When I wanted to offer my ideas, I swallowed my words and got small. When I tried to advocate for myself, I too quickly acquiesced.  I internalized these shortcomings as proof there was something wrong with me. Everyone else could play the game. Why couldn’t I? I needed to get my shit together if I was ever going to make it in the world.   
What I didn’t know then that I know now is that what I read as faulty or deficient within myself was actually wisdom pointing me toward reclaiming myself.
 
The truth was the environment in which I found myself was not designed for my thriving. I was the only Black employee among a handful of employees of color in a company of more than 300 people. All the C-suite execs were able-bodied white men. Doing whatever was needed to achieve results including working long hours was expected. No one talked about work/life balance or self-care let alone diversity, equity, and inclusion.
 
While we may not all (hopefully) find ourselves in such a toxic work environment, we do all live inside of systems structured by the poisons I encountered.  Colonialist culture, informed by the values of capitalism, racism, patriarchy, and the like, impacts all of us. These systems of domination rely on a hierarchical ranking of bodies to concentrate wealth and power among the plutocratic few.
 
The more a body deviates from the most valued body, (read: cis, het, white, able-bodied, land-owning, upper class, male) the more it learns to contort itself to survive. These contortions protect our fundamental needs for safety, dignity, and belonging, but they came at a cost.

As we try to “fit” we begin to believe things about ourselves that are untrue.   We believe that the anxiety, depression and fear we feel does mean there is something wrong with us.We believe our survival is dependent on our ability to not feel.We believe if we can secure enough resources we’ll be free.We believe we are alone and can only depend on ourselves. And many other things.
 
In my life, healing from this perceived sense of “not enough” is a journey that continues to unfold. It has taken me in and out of therapy, to month-long meditation retreats and countless workshops. It has found me over-committing and over-extending myself time and again. I have pursued certification after certification in an effort to be worthy. It was the hunger to be enough that eventually brought me to my body. I'm learning that the more I trust and follow what my body communicates, the more myself I feel. I am not healed. I am in process.
 I don’t believe anyone can fully heal from the impacts of supremacy culture until these systems are dismantled. We can though engage in personal and collective practices that offer clarity, care, and connection, to speed their undoing.

Last year, I wrote a book about this process – what I needed to unlearn, how I came back to my body, and the practices that drop me out of my head and into a much vaster field of wisdom. This book is my story -- but it’s also a guide to unhook from internalized feelings of “less than,” a celebration of all bodies and a reminder that the body is our portal to spirit, ancestors, ritual and deep time, so you can use it too.
 
It’s called, Decolonizing the Body: Healing, Body-Centered Practices for Women of Color to Reclaim Confidence, Dignity and Self Worth.

Pre-Order Decolonizing The Body Now!

The book hits shelves on March 1 but it’s available for pre-order now. You can find it on Amazon, Bookshop, Barnes & Noble, Target, or at your local bookstore.
 
My guess is that, if you’re reading this, you know ….You’ve internalized narratives that you’re ready to be free from.You need a little support to prioritize making time for slowing down.  Your body communicates with you, but are unsure of how to decipher what it is saying.The disconnection between your head and your body makes life unsustainable.It is time to inhabit yourself -- your full, authentic, sometimes messy but no less radiant self.  I wrote this book for you.
 
This is not an “I did it so you can too,” kind of book.

It’s an invitation to join me and so many others in practice as we reclaim the wisdom that already lives within us.  It is a reminder that coming home to oneself in the systems we reside in is a brave process that requires repetition, patience, and gentleness.  It is a reclamation that we do this work not only for our own healing but in honor of those who have come before and in service to those who will come after.  
 
Decolonizing the Body is born from my own journey, my years of practice, working alongside brilliant clients and leading the 8-week Decolonizing the Body program. It is the book I wish I had had when I was struggling so many years ago. In addition to offering real practices including on-demand guided audio tools, I wanted to create something that would help others feel less alone.  
 
Though the adversity you face may feel isolating, I stand and breathe alongside you.
 
Decolonizing the Body offers a pathway to help you slow down, tune in and discover the liberatory wisdom that already resides within you.