I Refuse to Shrink

Most of my life I’ve lived in unsafe spaces: my parents, my family, old friends, and even in my career. All of them were systems built not to nurture me, but to contain me.

Places too small to hold my brilliance.

I’ve always been misunderstood. My intellect mistaken for arrogance. My sensitivity mislabeled as weakness. My refusal to shrink renamed anger. I am not,  and have never been ,“ a regular girl.” Yet for years I forced myself to try, believing that maybe if I adapted, I would be safe.

But adaptation is not freedom.

Because whiteness does not have culture — it survives by stealing ours. It appropriates the very essence of Black creativity and then sells it back to the world. On white women, baby hairs and artificial curves are celebrated. On Black women, our natural bodies are shamed, told to be hidden, disciplined, or erased.

And our hair—our sacred crowns, become objects of obsession. Touched without consent. Commented on with ignorance. Dismissed or exoticized depending on who’s speaking. Sometimes it’s white women who cannot keep their hands or their comments to themselves. Sometimes it’s Black women who have grown so used to assimilation and conformity that they numb themselves to the constant disrespect. I too once thought assimilation was the way forward — straighten my hair, adjust my voice, play by their rules. But assimilation is a scam. A hamster wheel. A rat race with no finish line.

These systems were never built for us to thrive. They were built for us to fail. That’s why it feels so heavy, so hard.

But I am brilliant. I am highly educated. I can succeed in any room I step into — but what good is success if it requires me to amputate parts of myself? What good is wealth if it costs me my peace, my joy, my safety?

I refuse to keep shrinking.

I am an intellectual creative. My mind is sharp, my art is sacred, my brilliance is not up for debate. I’m redefining what success means on my own terms. For me, it’s not about climbing corporate ladders or collecting assimilationist accolades. It’s about living free, living true.

I will travel.

I will go on a poetry tour — Boston, New Orleans, Michigan, Portugal, Spain, London, all parts of Africa, and beyond.

I will stand on stages, speak my words, and get paid for my brilliance in ways that are unconventional, unconfined, non-conformed and honest.

This is manifestation. This is alchemy. This is transmutation.

I take the pain of being misunderstood and turn it into fire.

I take the weight of unsafe systems and turn it into wings.

I don’t need to prove my value to spaces designed for me to fail.

I don’t need to be small to be loved.

I don’t need to explain my brilliance to those who will never understand.

I just need to be.