So honored to have been featured by @ilovehucampaign. Taking a leap of faith and going to “The Mecca” was one of the best decisions I ever made. It played a pivotal role in influencing who I am today, and who I shall become. If you’re a Bison that feels the same, check out their website, spread the word, and give TODAY. Let us promote HBCU giving and ensure that these amazing institutions continue to thrive, flourish, and impact more lives just as they did ours. #howardu #howarduniversity #bison #hbcu #hbcus
Home bound and watching nature be awesome by reminding me that even in the midst of clouds, sometimes the sun will still manage to find a way to shine through. “Don’t ever let anything stifle your light Kenya”….duly noted. God has some beautiful creations …#nofilter needed. (at delaware memorial bridge )
Planned to post this for #foundinmyphone, but punked out. Too afraid that being anything other than happy go lucky Kenya would make people uncomfortable. Too afraid that continuing to expose my struggles would incite fear, judgement, and abandonment. But the truth is, I will experience those things anyway. So it is better to speak. As Audre Lorde so eloquently stated “your silence will not protect you”.
It’s been awhile since I’ve had enough courage to do something like this, but it was almost as if it was dropped right into my lap with a pretty little red bow on top and a note that said “I dare you to believe in yourself”. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity! I was reminded of an Oprah Winfrey quote, “I bet on myself …and it was the best bet I ever made”.
Promising to be a riveting collection of works, this collaborative project will feature various women’s reactions to their love/hate relationship with …their period! That’s right, you read it correctly. And I know what you’re thinking, “EW! That’s gross!”. Well, it is…kinda lol. But It’s also natural people!
As a society, we often tend to be silent about the things that make us uncomfortable. But the truth is, each body has a story. However, our bodies, and our stories, will have little power if we are silent. As Audre Lorde so eloquently stated, “when we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard or welcomed. But when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak”.
Next year, I will be joining a group of talented women and telling the stories of our bodies: the good, the bad, and everything in between! Portrayed through monologues, skits, and spoken word, Point…Blank…Period! will give insight to a topic that is often unspoken or told in whispers.
With that said, I am super excited to announce that we have been accepted to showcase in the 2014 Capital Fringe Festival. With any new show, it takes funding. Securing funds can sometimes be a daunting task for independent artists and producers, however, I firmly believe that we can raise the necessary funds to make this production a success. Currently, we need to raise $5000 by March 22, 2014, for production and administrative costs. We want this show to be a huge success, but we can’t do it without you. Will you help us reach our goal?
How can you help? It’s pretty simple:
Click the link below and donate today! No donation is too small…it all helps us reach our goal.
1. DONATE HERE
2. Tell your friends to help. Word of mouth is the greatest tool.
Start the buzz about Point…Blank…Period! . All you have to do is share the link to this post to friends & family. It’s THAT simple!
All donations will receive recognition. This may include mention in our show’s program, on the web, and/or through social media.
I am so excited about this project and know that you will love it! Thank you for always supporting me and helping me to believe in myself, and the power of art, creativity, and WORDS. Because people like you are in the world, I have no doubt that this production will be a success. If you have any questions or concerns, let me know!
Kenya D. Morris
Today, I told my supervisor “I do not feel well”, and for all intents & purposes, that was not a lie. Sure, my nose isn’t runny (at least not from a cold), no cough, no vomit, no high temperature …but, I just don’t feel …well. Which makes me quite the anomaly since I went to a wedding yesterday and was joking, laughing, dancing, and seemingly the life of the party. How one can go from that to crying their eyes out until 4am is beyond me.
But that’s mental illness for you. It isn’t a respecter of person. You could be a fireball of a personality, and this disease will still find a way to dim your light. It’s paralyzing. It’s painful. And every so often it induces that “I don’t want to be here” feeling in me. It’s when the smallest thing can trigger immense despair. It’s when you are awake countless hours…days and days at a time… because insomnia seems to be a first cousin of anxiety and depression, and it feels left out when not invited to the party. It’s when it’s takes an immense amount effort just to get out of the bed and function or to do normal day to day activities. It’s when everything seems cloudy, and you can’t see past all of the smoke. It’s when you feel like you are drowning. Then you begin counting failures, and mistakes, and traumas, and all of those things seem to outweigh the laughter. You think of how alone you feel. And the next thing you know, depression has you right where it wants you. It has you contemplating if you, the world, and everyone in it would just be better off if you weren’t here. I don’t get that feeling very often, but when I do, it’s heavy. Typically, what keeps me around most days is the thought of potentially breaking my mother’s heart …again. And actually succeeding this time.
But that’s typically when the rationalizing and negotiating begins. You say “OK, they might be sad at first. But their lives will go on.” You start telling yourself that you’re doing them a favor. They won’t have to have complicated conversations with you explaining why you can’t figure out what makes you happy anymore. You won’t have to tell them about how you are learning to take yourself on dates & experience social settings alone and they say “I do that all the time. What’s the big deal?”. You don’t have to try to re-explain why anxiety makes some of the most minuscule things terrifying. And you don’t have to confuse them with your ability to be the most extroverted person they know, self-sufficient, and seemingly have a “good” life, yet still be depressed. You won’t have to make people uncomfortable. Family will move on, friends have plenty to keep them distracted, and men…well, none of them want you anyway…so you surely won’t be missed. No one NEEDS you.
And then came Kanye. Kanye Fancypants Morris to be exact. In May of 2012 I was on temporary leave from work after experiencing an emotional breakdown. I had a breakdown years before in college, but since then I had been managing with my mental illness, juggling multiple responsibilities, and had even moved up to management at my job. But unfortunately, somewhere in there, I had taken on quite a lot, and forgot about self care. To add on to matters, for the first time in my life I was living all alone. No mom, no roommates, just me, and space, and thoughts…way too many thoughts. And out of nowhere a note was on my door one day that included the words “we are now a pet friendly building”. Within minutes I was looking at photos of dogs at shelters. I went into my search wanting a puppy. Thought I needed something young, untainted and full of life (unlike myself). However, what I came home with a week later was a 7 year old dog that the Washington Humane Society had named “Kanye”. A miniature poodle who was grossly underweight, required expensive dental work, had a huge burn/scar on his nose, in need of a serious haircut, but one of the kindest, most gentlest dogs I had ever encountered. The puppies all had a waiting list & an adoption fee, but they were willing to give Kanye to me that day, on the spot, for free, AND throw in free food. He was extremely amicable, but older, unattractive, had health issues, and highly undesirable to most. I thought, “this dog NEEDS me”.
Maybe I was the one that got adopted that day. Slowly but surely, this dog made me live. Whether I wanted to or not, I had to get up every single morning, rain or shine, and walk him. He was already potty trained, understood commands, and sought to listen & please (unlike the puppy I had pined for), and brought energy into a still place. This living thing, gave me a reason to not retreat. And even when I want to, he comes and sits next to me, licks my hand and gives me that look that says “If you rub me, you’ll feel better. I promise”. This little guy, that I get frustrated with, and impatient with, and may sometimes even yell at, still is excited to see me and forgives/forgets every little flaw that I possess. This creature, that despite his past, despite being neglected, despite the scars, despite his “taintedness”, wants nothing, but to love & be loved. And it makes think “maybe we aren’t all the different”.
And even when I leave him all day, come home, ignore him, cry my eyes out all night, and stay home the next day feeling debilitated, I am reminded that I can’t wither away. If it was up to me, most days I’d lock myself inside, but because of Kanye, I must go. And when I don’t want to, he’s patient. He waits. He may even jump in the bed, get close, lay next to me, and in his own little silent way, remind me that there is life after abandonment, wounds do heal, and that even if you don’t feel well…you are alive, and someone/thing in this world needs you. So take your time - cry, hurt, purge, rest, heal …then get up.
I ran across this photo on instagram the other day with a caption that stated “What you put into your body speaks for itself. What does your body say??”. There was so much that I wanted to comment on, but ya know, it’s instagram. It’s a platform that doesn’t lend itself to many words (or at least that’s how I like to keep it). So the most I could muster up was “This photo is problematic. But I understand what you’re saying”.
The person’s intention was probably to motivate. However, a photo like this does the exact opposite. For one, the words “I’m beautiful” on a thin stomach communicates that a thin body is more valuable than another. And I purposefully used the word “thin” because one cannot tell just by viewing this photo if this person is actually fit or not. This photo perpetuates the notion that a thin body is reflective of good health. It is not. I know plenty of thin people that eat fast food regularly and rarely work out, yet they still remain thin due to genetics. There are also thin people who are that way due to eating disorders and other unhealthy habits. I’m an advocate of people working out & eating healthy because they want to. Do it because it makes you happy. Do it because your body will function well and be at it’s best INTERNALLY.
It didn’t surprise me to later discover that the original photo had “I’m Beautiful” on both young women and someone later photoshopped it and put the McDonald’s symbol and “I’m loving it” on the larger physique. Let’s just call this what it is: FAT SHAMING. We live in a society that glorifies thin bodies and deems them as most attractive. If that is the aesthetic that you gravitate to in a mate, then that’s ok. But it’s problematic to tell women they are lazy, unhealthy, unfit, unvalued, and not beautiful because their bodies are not thin. Fat shaming is an ineffective way to motivate. If anything, it often only causes low self-esteem, which could lead to binge eating, anorexia, bulimia, and other disorders. Abuse does not inspire. It does what it was created to do …destroys.
There will always be some reason someone somewhere doesn’t deem you beautiful. Bodies bruise, bodies scar, bodies change…and even at your thinnest, there may be some other flaw that’s disliked by others. What matters most is that you love you to the very best of your ability. This is something that I work on daily. My efforts to mentally and emotionally refute images and messages like the ones above are constant, but necessary. We must be our best lover.
I now work out consistently and I have adopted a diet that mostly consists of clean meals. I’m in better shape than i’ve been the majority of my life. I honestly cannot recall the last time I ate anything from McDonald’s. However, my stomach still looks most similar to the stomach on the right. And guess what? I am beautiful. My beauty is not indicative of the size of my body. My beauty cannot be confined to intolerable perceptions of aesthetic acceptability.
What does my body say? …it says, “Kenya, I love you. You are a strong thing. You are a good thing. And as long as you have me, there is a heart that will beat for you, lungs that will breathe for you, and a mind that will never give up on you”. That is beautiful.
I thought that anything at all was better than lonely. Then I got anything …and still felt lonely.
And bitter. And hurt. And unappreciated.
Keep your anything. Lonely will do.