Current Issue/Words/Prose/Soltahr Tiv-Amanda

A few years ago when I was working on my Master’s degree at Naropa, I began the difficult work of “coming out” as a Black woman. I use the term “Coming Out” because for years I had been hiding in a closet of fear and denial of my own self, my roots, my people and all that I wanted to be.

People who know me now would not believe this, as they would assume that I have been strong and inwardly powerful for most of my 51 years of life. I wish that were true, as I spent many years in personal struggle with my Blackness. How did this journey start for me? Who were my teachers along the way? Where have I come to now?

I was lucky enough to be raised by three very strong, very wonderful Aunties, as my mother was young when I was born and not ready to care for me. I say lucky because these three women who were around the age I am now, bravely took on the care of an infant. As I ponder this, I know this was a great sacrifice for them, for as older women, this could not have been easy. They were my first teachers. They taught me the deepest meaning of love—love given from open hearts—unconditionally. It was this love that gave me the very best foundation for who I would become. These strong beginnings helped me to make a good start in life.

As I moved into school age and onward, I would say that my teachers unfortunately became other kids who called me names related to both my body’s size and color. Through this contact, I came to dislike who I was.

It is my belief that our teachers in life are not just the ones who give us good information. They are very often the ones who give us information that isn’t helpful to our minds, bodies and spirits. Hence this learning, that I didn’t realize was a lie, stuck with me for many years.

I could make this story very long telling about the many other experiences of my teen to twenties years that continued to reinforce my dislike of who I was—wanton sexual explorations, abusive relationships, etc. etc.

Later on, in my thirties, I stumbled onto a spiritual path that ultimately came to change the way I viewed the world as well a how I viewed myself. I found the path of the Great Goddess. I came to see and appreciate my roundness and by stature. I came to see my woman self as a beautiful and loving being. I found images of the divine that looked like me! I began to see my body as beautiful. I began to see my brown skin as the color of earth, the beginning of the growth of living things. I found out that this Divine Feminine was available to me, spoke to me, lived in me, in ways that the elusive, distant father God never had.

I was also delightfully aware that others could see and would revere this immanent Goddess, shining from my eyes and radiating from my being. Over time I too could see Her.

My spirituality and induction into the healing path by a wonderful teacher also started me on my way to deciding—after my divorce when my twin daughters were just 4 years old, to go to graduate school. I chose Naropa, as there was a spiritual aspect to the Counseling Psychology program that I found to be inclusive of my spiritual path and needs for personal growth. During those three years, I learned much about myself through the application of meditation for self-discovery. I had to learn to “sit with” myself and my own painful issues before I could be able to “sit with” others. This learning was invaluable to me. Sitting in meditation is like having ones own Pandora’s box opened. All of the past pain, shame, fear, anger, etc. came flying out, and engulfed me in a whirlpool of transformation. I will not say that this was easy. I will not say I had a great deal of support. A lot of my work was done n my own, as I was surrounded by teachers, fellow students and therapists who were not like me. I learned about privilege. I learned about oppression—mine and that of others. I nearly drowned on a few occasions in the muck of all that I had not known about how our culture works, and the marks it had put on me…

In time, however, and the help of a couple of therapists who could “sit with” me, the healing took place, and continues today. I also began to become a voracious reader of books by women of color. Women who could help, through their words, to give voice to experiences that mirrored my own. Words that opened up for me amazing new worlds had never understood before, though it was right before my eyes, and under my very own skin.

What did I learn? I came to see myself—truly as a representation of the divine. I came to truly appreciate the people from whom I had come. I began to explore the religions of my ancestors, and found more Goddesses who could speak to me. Goddesses of many colors and from many cultures. I spoke often to, and connected with my ancestors, I enlisted their joyfully given aid in my continuing metamorphosis. Like a butterfly from the chrysalis I began to emerge—a new being, opening her wings in the sunlight.

While by now, my wings have dried, and I have flown purposefully in the sun and soared on the wind, I am still growing. I am still learning.

I have learned that I don’t have to hate former oppressors. I can understand the roots of their hatred, yet know deep within me, that it doesn’t have to effect or dampen my own bright spirit. I found that I can exude from my being the love I feel at my core for all of humankind, yet I can also willfully set boundaries for myself that keep me from falling into traps that will ensnare me or take me down. I have watched my anger dissipate in my screams and through my tears over time. My anger is now simply a ghostly shadow that I embrace within myself as a reminder to pay attention. When my anger rises up, I am being given a message that I need to speak up, or take action. I do not need to strike out without forethought. Yet my anger is not my driver. I am at the wheel, and I decide where I am going and when, and how I will get there.

I do not know if this is helpful or makes sense to you the reader. I only know that I always endeavor as a healer to bring something to those who need it. I strive always to give hope to those who have lost theirs. I wish for you that when you next look in the mirror, you would see for yourself the gorgeous, glorious being that you are. In so doing, we can all move toward a much greater free world, where we, our children and our children’s children can live.