As this month closes, I’m reflecting on something deeper.
Black history isn’t something I acknowledge for 28 days.
It lives in me.
In my culture.
In my resilience.
In the struggles I inherited.
In the courage of those who came before me.
This month reminded me to give myself grace.
Grace for the ways systemic oppression shapes our lives.
Grace for the silence many of us learned in order to survive.
Grace for the parts of ourselves we hid to be palatable, acceptable, or safe.
For a long time, many of us learned to shrink.
To quiet ourselves.
To carry chains that were never meant to hold us.
Like the elephant who stays tied to a small ring because he remembers the chain.
Like the fireflies born in a jar who stop trying to fly once the lid is removed.
Sometimes the cage is no longer there.
But the memory of it remains.
So as this month closes, I’m celebrating something bigger.
Liberation.
Freedom to heal.
Freedom to grow.
Freedom to rediscover who I am beneath everything that tried to silence me.
Black history isn’t just history.
It is living.
It is breathing.
It is evolving.
And I will celebrate it every month by honoring myself, my voice, and the fire inside me.
Happy Black History Month.
— The Karma Mindset