Did you know that your feelings are like a warning system in your body, and that they are learned?
They show up in our behavior and come from our belief system but be clear: feelings are not facts . When we ignore, numb, stuff down, and/or let them take over, feelings can create issues for us that impact not only ourselves but the people we love. When we don’t take care of our body’s ‘warning system’, we are neglecting our needs or wants, and this is where our self-care suffers.
Licensed Marriage & Family Therapist Melody Parks shares how she practiced radical self-care to move from survival mode to thriving.
I'm sure it was well after midnight, but my therapist, who had told me many times to call her when I needed to, answered my late-night call as if she was expecting me. With my words stuck in my throat, she called my name and told me it was okay. She told me to breathe. I felt like I was going to choke, but with all my might, I pulled in all the air I could and pushed it out, over and over, until I could speak. I don’t remember the conversation, but I know it was the last time I had a major depressive episode. You know, the kind that doesn’t let you get out of bed, wash your behind, or go to work? When the sun rose that morning, so did the idea of Me First Self-Care. First and foremost, I wanted to make sure I would never again find myself at rock bottom, but I wasn’t sure how to do it by myself. I knew I needed someone to listen to me and help me create a plan that would transform my life as a single, adoptive mom with an amazing-yet-killing-me-softly entertainment industry career. As much as I tried, though, I couldn’t find that person. Borrowing from Gandhi, I decided to “be the change you want to see in the world”, and created the resource I needed to heal myself, and women like me. I created the Me First Self-Care program to: 1. Help women asses their needs 2. Determine the best course of action based on that assessment 3. Create a realistic plan that fits each person’s life 4. Serve as a coach and accountability partner Through my own personal experiences and training as a licensed psychotherapist (part of my radical self-care plan was giving up the stressful career I loved and pursuing my passion for helping women), I’ve learned that self-care is not the cure for depression, but one of many tools. It’s not about doing your hair and nails and going to the spa. Radical self-care is about doing the hard work that brings you back from the brink of mental, physical or spiritual collapse, and transforming your life. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing the bad, the ugly, and not-so-awesome about the journey towards radical self-care, along with tools to help you along your path. Let’s get into this together.
It’s grief that feels hard to explain because while you don’t have a personal relationship with these individuals, because they are cultural influencers and news-makers who are part of our everyday life, we grieve and mourn out loud when we lose them.
It’s February, the month of *love* , and it just so happens that my custom self-care goals are to reconnect with myself mind body and soul, deepen my connection to self and loving myself deeper, genuinely and authentically. To do that, one of my self-care practices is very mindful self-pleasure, complete with the big O. (Yep, I just wrote that!) Here’s why: as I contemplated my self-care plan earlier this year, one thing that kept coming to me was how, as a single woman – this also can be the case if you’re partnered – I’ve lost touch with my sensual self. Two major factors play a role in this loss for me. The first was being victimized, both as a child and then again as a teenager, and the second was forcing myself to turn on masculine energy and become a dominant woman to be heard and taken seriously in the male-dominated world I worked in. I learned early on that my black female body was not safe in this society – by the age of 18, I had already lived through sexual brutalization twice, and even now, I continue to see the degradation of black female bodies every day. I’ve felt as if there is no space for my sensuality, without others deciding for me I am a whore, hoe, Jezebel, tramp, black bitch, or worse. Well, enough! This year it’s time for me tune out those messages and tap into and own the parts of my mind, body and spirit that were taken from me by manipulation, sexism, body shaming and power plays. So, this #SelfCareSunday, I’m planning an intimate date with the person I’m falling deeper in love with: Me (complete with fancy smell-goods)! And in case you’re wondering, and/or are looking for a “why” to try out self-pleasure for: masturbation also helps relieve stress, cramps, pain, promotes body positivity, personal power, and more. Give it a try, and hit me back with a thumbs up or a “hell yeah” to let us know you’ve taken care of yourself. 😉 For those looking for info on positive and affirming sexual health, please hit up Dr. Jeshana Johnson with The Intimacy Seminars: https://theintimacyseminars.com or Jamila Dawson, licensed marriage and family therapist at: www.Jamiladawson.com *Cue India.Arie*…
How 90 minutes in 1,000 lbs Epsom salt + 280 lbs H2O upped my self-care game
The thoughts of a strong black woman who struggles with depression want's others to know.
As I sat and watched Dr. Christine Blasey Ford testify at a Senate confirmation hearing for Brett Kavanaugh’s ascendance to the Supreme Court, read news articles and watched my Facebook feed, I found myself growing angry, then sad, then tearful, trying to keep from unleashing the trauma of my past. It was all too much – watching Dr. Ford recount the things that are forever locked into her hippocampus; seeing women and men imply, or outright declare, that girls and women bear some responsibility for putting themselves in vulnerable situations; and reading article after article about men escaping legal and social responsibility for assault, harassment, or rape. All of this reminded me of the guilt and shame that I carried for years, believing that it was my fault, that I knew what I was doing, and that I brought it on myself. It made me remember that the man who molested me – excuse me, it wasn’t molestation, it was “only” statutory rape according to the law, since I was one week too old for molestation at the time of the attack – never had to face any repercussions for his actions. It made me remember my mother asking me why I went to the house when she told me not to. (I know now that my mother had him figured out and that she was trying to keep me safe). It reminded me of the experience of one of my clients, who met with a man who said he would help her complete her applications for a graduate school; instead, he raped her. When she went home and told her parents, she was admonished with “I told you not to go over there.” It also reminded me of a friend whose career has been stalled after reporting her assault at the hands of a work colleague. Rather than being supported by her company, she was the one disciplined and made to sign a confidentiality agreement. She often encounters the colleagues who punished her at industry events, all while watching their careers flourish. And as I sat there, I processed my emotions, scanning my body to become aware of the sensations that I was experiencing. I realized that I was anxious, triggered by these public displays of so much private pain.
A few years ago, a sister-friend was visiting me when, with great anxiety, she pulled off her hat, showing me how her hair had fallen out of the top of her head. I looked and asked, “What?”, to which she replied, “My hair is falling out!” I replied, “Okay, it’s just hair.” She smiled and was seemingly relieved at the fact that it was no big deal. Later, she again shared that she was losing more of her hair, and how concerned she was at the prospect of having to wear a wig, weave, or hair extensions because she doesn’t feel comfortable in them, and with her fixed income, was concerned about spending too much money to try. Even though she didn’t want to wear those hair products, she feared what people would say and how they would react if she had no hair.
