From a sociological perspective, I think matrifocal families can be more dynamic and effective at strengthening family bonds than traditional patriarchal families. I know this might be an unpopular opinion, but I believe that having strong women and supportive men plays a key role in creating a healthy and balanced family structure.
With curiosity—Shavesha Steele
If no one ever tells you this out loud, let it be written here: you survived a year that quietly reshaped you.
Dear Me,
You made it to the end of 2025. Pause for a second and really sit with that. This year tried you in ways you couldn’t have predicted, and yet—here you are. Still standing. Still learning. Still choosing yourself more than you used to.
2025 wasn’t gentle, but it was honest. It showed you what drains you, what nourishes you, and what you can no longer pretend doesn’t hurt. You learned that walking away is not failure—it’s wisdom. That peace is not boring. That consistency matters more than words. And that you never need to shrink to be loved correctly.
You grew quieter this year, but stronger. You stopped over-explaining. You stopped chasing clarity from people who thrived on confusion. You started trusting that uneasy feeling in your chest—and every time you did, it proved you right.
This year taught you that healing isn’t linear. Some days you felt powerful, other days exhausted. Both were real. Both were allowed. And neither erased the progress you were making, even when it felt invisible.
You learned to protect your energy. To rest without guilt. To take yourself seriously. To believe that what you want isn’t “too much”—it’s simply not for everyone.
I’m proud of you for choosing growth even when it was lonely. For staying soft in a world that rewards numbness. For continuing to dream, even when disappointment tried to convince you to settle.
As you step into the next chapter, remember this:
You don’t need to prove your worth.
You don’t need to earn basic respect.
You don’t need to rush what’s meant to last.
Carry the lessons, not the weight. Carry the confidence, not the fear. Carry yourself the way you wish others had.
You did more than survive 2025—you became more you.
With gratitude and trust,
Me
I’ve learned that trying to become the person your parents hope for can be honorable—but only if it doesn’t cost you yourself. When a life is lived primarily to meet someone else’s expectations, it can slowly fill with regret. Not loud regret, but the kind that settles in quietly and shapes how you show up in love, in connection, and in honesty.
Love becomes confusing when you’re unsure whose life you’re living. It’s hard to give yourself fully to another person when you haven’t given yourself permission to be fully you.
I hope people remember that respect for parents doesn’t require self-abandonment. You can honor where you come from without losing sight of where you’re going. And sometimes, learning what love is starts with choosing authenticity over obligation.
I think I finally woke up from the fantasy I was living in.
For a long time, I romanticized a situation that was never meant to grow. I filled in the gaps with hope, convincing myself that what I was experiencing meant more than it actually did. It was easier to believe in potential than to accept reality.
But clarity arrived when I got honest with myself about what I truly want.
I want a family. I want children. I want a life built on commitment, consistency, and love that doesn’t live in the shadows. Once I admitted that, the situation I was in no longer fit the future I’m trying to build.
I was investing my time and emotions in someone who was unavailable in all the ways that mattered. Someone whose life was already full, already chosen, already settled. I was only being offered what was convenient—moments without responsibility, connection without intention.
The hardest realization wasn’t about them.
It was about me.
For a long time, I hid behind the belief that I wouldn’t find anyone better. That this was as much as I deserved. I told myself I should be grateful for the attention, even if it came with limits that slowly chipped away at my self-worth.
I confused being wanted with being valued. I let attention stand in for love because, at the time, it felt safer than believing I deserved more.
But attention without intention is not love.
And connection without direction leads nowhere.
Staying meant abandoning parts of myself—my standards, my future, my voice. Leaving meant choosing alignment over illusion. It meant letting go of what felt familiar so I could make room for what actually fits the life I want.
I’m learning that love doesn’t require secrecy or self-sacrifice. It doesn’t ask you to shrink, wait, or settle. Real love meets you fully and openly.
And I hope that one day I’ll look back and know without doubt that I was always worth more than the things I allowed myself to endure.
I can’t make him love me.
he won’t.
and i can’t.
i can’t beg
without ripping something out of myself.
every time i hope,
it hurts.
every time i try to be “enough,”
i lose a piece of me.
i can’t keep showing up
to be ignored.
can’t keep softening my voice
just to make space for his silence.
i’ve cried in rooms
he never even walked into.
screamed in silence
while he laughed somewhere else.
he doesn’t see me.
not really.
not the way i need.
and maybe he never will.
but god, i tried.
i tried to hold my breath long enough
to be what he wanted.
i tried to be small, quiet, simple.
i tried to prove
i was worth staying for.
but i can’t keep bleeding
just to keep his hands clean.
he won’t love me the way i need.
and i can’t keep pretending
that’s okay.
We could be a melody, full of imperfections,
Our harmonies blending in unique directions.
With each note we play, a new story is told,
Creating a symphony, beautiful and bold.
Our rhythms may clash, our tones may not match,
But together we create a perfect patchwork.
In our discord, there lies a hidden beauty,
A song of love, woven with complexity.
So let us embrace our flaws and mistakes,
For they are what make our music great.
In our imperfections, we find our connection,
A melody of love, pure and perfection.
I told myself two years ago
Don't be afraid of change
Embrace it, welcome it
Don't let it feel so strange
But now I find myself
In a constant state of fight
Every drastic change I face
Fills me with such fright
I thought I was prepared
For whatever life may bring
But when it comes down to it
I struggle with everything
I try to push through
To embrace the unknown
But the fear inside me
Has only grown and grown
I know I need to change
To grow and to evolve
But the battle within me
Is hard to resolve
So I'll keep fighting on
Despite the fear I feel
Hoping that one day
I'll find a sense of zeal
For change is inevitable
And I must learn to adapt
To let go of my fears
And leave behind the trap
I told myself two years ago
Don't be afraid of change
I'll keep reminding myself
Until my mindset rearrange.
This poem delves into my internal struggle and fear that often accompany significant changes in life. I initially motivated myself to embrace change, but as I navigate through it, I find myself resisting, feeling overwhelmed and fearful. The poem delves into the difficulty of releasing fear and my journey of adapting and growing through change.
In the shadows of society, we stand,
Black, marginalized, with dreams unplanned.
Our voices muted, our struggles unseen,
Yet still, we’re objectified, as if we’re not even human beings.
We’re strong, we’re resilient, we rise above,
But society sees us through a lens devoid of love.
Our bodies judged, our worth defined,
By the male gaze, our value confined.
But we are more than just objects of desire,
We are fierce, we are powerful, our souls on fire.
We stand tall, we break free from the chains,
Embracing our beauty, our strength that remains.
let us reclaim our power,
Let us stand together, in unity, every hour.
We are black, we are marginalized, but we are not defined,
By the oppressive standards that seek to confine.
We are queens, we are warriors, we are magic untold,
Our stories, our voices, forever bold.
So let us rise, let us shine, let us be seen,
As the strong, resilient women, breaking barriers, breaking free.
#International women’s day
My body, your body, her body
We are somebody, skin and bone
Breathing, moving, feeling deeply
In this world of flesh and tone
My body is a vessel
A home for my spirit to roam
Scarred and imperfect
But uniquely my own
Your body is a story
A dance of curves and lines
A map of experiences
Etched in every sign
Her body is a mystery
A universe to explore
A symphony of emotions
Each note, a silent roar
I am somebody
More than just this skin
A soul on a journey
Finding strength within
My body, your body, her body
We are all somebody, raw and true
Embracing our imperfections
In a world that's always new.
In the garden of my soul, a delicate flower blooms,
Petals of strength and beauty, dispelling all glooms.
A treasure within, so deeply revered,
My essence, my worth, so crystal clear.
Like a precious gem, my value shines bright,
Unwavering and true, even in the darkest night.
Guarded with care, this sacred space,
My inner sanctum, my saving grace.
Just as the flower needs tender nurture and love,
I cherish myself, like the stars above.
For in valuing my essence, my true worth,
I embrace all of me, from heaven to earth.
So, honor your garden, your essence, your core,
For within you lies a treasure, forevermore.
Value yourself, as you would a precious art,
For in loving yourself, you find the purest heart.
Dose of chevvi 