My return to Carnivalesque

Photo by Allec Gomes on Unsplash

I started this newsletter in 2023, published two articles, and then turned to focus on completing my first book, Black Cake, Turtle Soup, and Other Dilemmas. My book of personal essays was released in June 2024 and in just over 1 year, I did a considerable number of readings, panels and podcasts. I spoke to many people about the themes and personal journeys into music, dance, art and culture, discourses on race, womanhood. I experienced the joy of hearing from readers who identified with my moments in my essays. The accomplishment of having my art out in the world enlivened and emboldened me.

Throughout the year however, unknown to most, there’d been an undercurrent of threat that ran parallel to these joys. It sapped my energies so much so, that in January, 2025, I crashed. I stopped everything. I stopped going out, I stopped social media. I took leave from my job. What had tipped me over the edge was something that I’d rarely revealed to anyone. When I did reveal my struggles, women said, ‘yeah, I went through that’ i.e., they’d also been through this silent, unseen (or un-looked at) scourge.

What is community?

Months earlier, it had been the slight break in my younger brother’s voice and then his loud, abrupt words that revealed his panic and concern for my safety. After months of creeping around my city in a vigilant and fearful state, he helped me to move out of the ‘freeze’ response into an action.

‘Promise me that you will go to the police, today and call me back when you’ve done it’, he said sternly. My brother insisted that I act, that I take what to me was a terrifying step. Asking the police for any kind of assistance is a legitimate fear that many of us have. In fact, this fear had stopped me, a Black woman, from expecting the institution to work on my behalf. Instead, I’d continued to narrow my worlds, going to a decreasing number of public spaces, in an attempt to feel safe.

That same evening, a friend accompanied me to the police station. She held my hand, as I told a young, white, male cop of my experiences. He listened and then said, ‘that’s called criminal harassment,’ - in common parlance, stalking. He’d named my experience and under the direction of the detective, later that night, acted and made it stop.

I called my brother and said, ‘I did it.’

Carnivalesque is about art, literature, music and joy, however, it is also about how we can live in and navigate the world, work towards its betterment, walk alongside each other, step in and step up. We can do this for and with each other, can we not?

How do we get there from here?

It can be a kind of Carnival. With music, art and culture, we emancipate ourselves.

There will be much dancing.

With gratitude

There are some who held and protected me, in a myriad of small ways.

To the men who stepped up, those who said immediately without question, ‘In this space, at this moment, I’ve got your back’ – Thank you.

To the women who stepped in, to walk alongside me as I walked my dog, or went out to buy groceries, sat with me or stepped out into the world with me to attend an event or a party – Thank you.

Other tepid responses of neutrality or questioning of impact won’t receive my time or energy. Just note that there will always be some tepid responses.

Below, I’d like to share what I have done and continue to do as I develop wellness, cultivate safety in relationships of all kinds, and heal my shaken nervous system. Perhaps this will assist someone else in their life.

What does healing look like?

I went through stages I would call them.

· Stage 1 – Confusion. What is this?! I thought I was smart and could never be in a victim scenario

· Stage 2 – Fatigue. There is significant impact on the psyche, nervous system of constant vigilance.

· Stage 3 – Rumination. This was an attempt to make sense of it all, to try to think back to the first red flags as they say, sort out how and why, such abuse of women by men is ignored and permitted, noting that the social consequences for men who abuse women are well – nil, as most folks just want to carry on with their lives.

· Stage 4 – Supported actions. Know that these take place with good people all along the way. See previous sections.

· Stage 5 – Experiments in recovery. Practice noticing moments when you actually are safe and try to extend this experience. This helps the nervous system to reset.

· Stage 6 – “Grow your worlds,” a counsellor once told me. So much is outside of our control. We can make our worlds bigger, so these experiences take a back seat, becoming smaller, miniscule as our worlds and interests expand.

· Stage 7 – Start to develop discernment and boundaries so the negative entities don’t enter our lives in the first place or if they do, they certainly won’t want to stay.

Along the way, I informed myself relentlessly. I had the luxury of low cost therapy and sought out the support of a few close friends and family.

That’s a lot of stuff to think about and/or enact. In the meantime….

I celebrate

There is a very famous Brazilian song called ‘Vou festijar’. It is played often and everyone sings along with gusto and brilliant smiles, jumping and punching the air.

‘You betrayed me and I will celebrate your pain and suffering’ is the general sentiment of the song. The only thing is it centralizes the harmer as the subject of the song.

What I propose is – yes, jump and sing. It’s super fun! And yet, I propose, we hold another thought.

How about we sing, ‘I celebrate my worlds, my joy, my growth, my peace, my exuberance,’ while jumping and pointing at the sky.