A Radical Act

Hey Sunnies,

I hope this blogpost finds you all healthy and well. These past couple weeks have been very busy for me. I have been running around trying to interview for jobs, submit my final paperwork for bar admission, maintain my workout regime and prepare for my continuous cycle of traveling. It has just been a lot going on. A lot going on that has drained me mentally, emotionally and also physically. When I am tired I noticed my basic levels of taking good care of myself are the first to go. I sacrifice meal times, then sleep, then working out, then showering, and the list just goes on and on. I always seem to sacrifice the things I need first before ever even considering sacrificing a work or social obligation. It is sad. It makes me sad the level of perfectionism that enslaves me. I don’t want anyone else to ever even question if I missed a beat. I would rather forego a commitment I made to myself, like getting 8 hours of sleep, then telling a job or friend, no I can’t do that.

Lately I’ve realized how much of a radical act self-care really is. When I heard the word radical, for a long time, I thought about Angela Davis or Assata Shukar, just two radical sisters, militant, wearing all black, sticking it to the man. But as life kept life-ing I thought about how radical the smile was from someone mourning. How radical joy and laughter was for someone who has experienced incredible pain and heartbreak. How radical hope is for the broken hearted. How radical Black art is in a world of so much hate. How radical self-care was in a world of so many demands and pressure. Self-love, especially for a Black professional woman, is a radical act.

Be radical!

forever blooming,

Mikaela Amira