Returning Home to Myself
A Birthday Reflection: Grief, Self-Discovery, and Healing
A year later, I finally decided to return to this piece. Crazy enough, I started writing this on my last birthday, but for some reason, my intuition told me I was not ready just yet. I needed to sit with myself further, experience life, loss, and acceptance, and get out of my way [ego] to receive more lessons, clarity, and answers. A few months ago, I received a message on TikTok that said, “Spirit won’t always reveal everything to you. Sometimes you are only meant to know a layer of a situation or person so that you could navigate your own lessons independently. We are “meant” to go through certain experiences.” This message came at a devastating yet intentional time; I needed to accept and finally let go of something I had been carrying. Now, I think I have reached a place of full nakedness; I’ve been stripped of everything, who I once was (or thought I needed to be) and everything I once knew. God provided me with the clarity and wisdom to do so, and since then, I’ve been face-to-face with myself, reflecting on how far I’ve come and where I’m heading. This journey has forever secured my faith; I never have to question my creator or ancestors again. If I can overcome my darkest time and come back stronger and more beautiful, I can overcome anything else.
In honor of my birthday today, I am in Los Angeles, California, to see Solange’s Eldorado Ballroom Contrapuntal Counterpoints: Experimentation in Funk, Soul, and Jazz show with her Saint Heron program at the Walt Disney Concert Hall. I have witnessed Solange’s artistic practice growth since I first came across her when I was fourteen; as I write this, I feel like I have grown through my process as she’s made changes herself. When I turned twenty-two, I saw her debut original Play Time score at the New York City Ballet in 2022. Although I wasn’t as depressed as before, I still didn’t fully understand myself and where I wanted to be. As I begin my 24th year in this realm, I am happy and grateful to spend time with Solange again for another birthday and return to this piece since her music has played a pivotal role in my healing and self-discovery journey.
As someone who connects to music through lyricism, I carry a strong emotional attachment to these two albums, A Seat At The Table (2016) and When I Get Home (2019) by Solange Knowles. These two albums phenomenally reflect my self-discovery journey from 2020 to today— it took me almost four whole years to become this sweet to myself; only God knows how much pain and picking and plucking this body has been through to get to this place today. I am grateful for the experiences, sensations, and love this body has allowed me to experience. This piece will be a narrative essay, with each chapter named after a song from the two albums that best highlighted my state at that time. I’m certain this will be the lengthiest essay I’ve ever written, but I hope it’s worthy enough to make you stay ‘til the end, as this is my most vulnerable piece yet. Please feel free to listen as you read along :)
I. Where Do We Go
“What used to belong. Now good and gone. And I don’t know where to go. No, I don’t know where to stay (…) Where do we go from here? Do you know?”
For whatever reason, one day during my sophomore year of college, I decided to revisit a book called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, assigned as summer reading for my first year of high school. While reading, I discovered a piece from the text I had no idea would change my life forever:
“The boy didn’t know what a person’s “Personal Legend” was. It’s what you have always wanted to accomplish. Everyone, when they are young, knows what their Personal Legend is. At that point in their lives, everything is clear and everything is possible. They are not afraid to dream, and to yearn for everything they would like to see happen to them in their lives. But, as time passes, a mysterious force begins to convince them that it will be impossible for them to realize their Personal Legend.”
Growing up, I’ve always been a creative child: I danced from ages six to seventeen (tap, jazz, ballet, and modern) and even received a dance scholarship in high school for African Dance. Besides my first love, I took part in various art forms, like singing in school and church choirs for half my life, and any arts and crafts you could think of, like drawing “looks” in my sketchpad while watching Project Runway or crocheting. It was safe to say that this adolescent Tumblr girl was a very imaginative kid; however, my innocence was stripped when I was about twelve. Coming from a one-parent household with no means of safety in any capacity, life is prone to becoming less fairytale and filled with fewer dreams, and as time goes on, those childlike wonder wings eventually die out. This led to a separation from my “Personal Legend,” and the desire for security and safeness became my only option. Everything in my life from this point until college was supposed to lead me to becoming a doctor. Despite consistent efforts throughout grade school and busting my ass in college to uphold a 3.8 GPA for almost three years, I realized my passion for medicine never actually came from me or my heart. Now, I don’t think my desire to become a doctor was disingenuous but rather a result of growing up in a household where my voice was often silenced, translating into anger and advocacy outside my home. As I became more conscious of the injustices in the world and what it means to be a Black woman, I knew I wanted to become an OB/GYN and serve Black women.
In my heart, I knew I was meant to see that message but didn’t know how to deal with the aftermath of it— being honest with myself. A few days later, I got on the phone with a friend at the time and told her how I’ve been questioning whether or not I’m on the right career path, and she bluntly said something that I will never forget, “D’Mia, you are so creative I have no idea why you are trying to become a doctor…” It was at that moment I had no idea myself. It was like everything I always knew was completely diminished once she said that. Maybe about five minutes later, I nervously went upstairs to my grandparents’ room and told them the “dream” we’d been building up for I no longer wanted. They stared blankly at me for a good ten seconds, and then eventually, my grandmother said, “Will it make your tuition cheaper?” I responded with, “Potentially,” and then she said ok. Then my grandfather told me, “You are a very smart girl. I know you will be the very best at whatever you decide to do.” At this moment, a significant weight was lifted from my chest, but I had absolutely no idea the debt I would pay for finally freeing myself.
more photos from my study abroad trip
II. Weary
“Be leery ‘bout your place in the world. You’re feeling like you’re chasing the world. You’re leaving not a trace in the world. But you’re facing the world…”
I went through many significant changes during this period of my life, one being getting into my first romantic relationship. Although, at the time, it felt liberating to experience what I thought was love for the very first time, I simultaneously was going through other intense changes that I had never once experienced before: low self-esteem, insecurity, and, worst of all, starting my loc journey. After impulsively dropping my pre-med major, I decided to study abroad in Rome, Italy, during the fall semester of my junior year. So, I left my unfinished “what’s next?” business and packed all my things, not knowing I had more baggage than the ones I physically brought to this new country I was living in.
My study abroad semester was kind of a blur to me, as my sense of self ultimately began to whittle away the longer the semester flew by. It hurts me to admit this, but the one thing I believe intensified my poor mental space was my hair. I went from faithfully wearing wigs in college to abruptly going entirely natural, which I had to reckon with, knowing my social perceptions or interactions would change. At a certain point, my depression had gotten so bad that I couldn’t even look at myself in a mirror— that’s when I knew it was time for me to seek help.
Outside of the obvious, having to seek therapy during a time that should be the most exciting aspect of my college life, I thought it was very movie-esque of me to be sitting on a European lounge chair listening to an Italian woman help navigate me through my identity crisis whilst the sight of ancient Italian buildings as my window view background. Except for the clear barriers, my therapist was great. Despite the many internal challenges I was experiencing, she encouraged me to explore myself through the city, which is how I regained a new love for art. During my stay, I visited a few museums by myself and explored many different books, art, and jewelry shops, too (this is where my love for silver jewelry began!). Of course, Italy has some of the best artwork you’ll ever experience, but I can’t deny the beautiful Black art I saw while my friends and I visited London for a weekend. Weirdly, the art there inspired me and gave me something to hope for in my personal life— the art I experienced during my trip to Europe is what saved me from myself. Due to the beauty of Italy, I decided I wanted more longevity documentation for my trip, so I went to a camera shop near my school apartment, and that’s where my official journey to photography began. During my time of despair, I ran to a camera; who would’ve known I was opening a portal to my destiny?
It's still so unbelievable that I was randomly taking photos in Italy, having no idea I was bringing life upon myself and specific experiences I had never even considered a path for me.
III. Cranes in the Sky
“But it’s like cranes in the sky. Sometimes I don’t wanna feel those metal clouds. Yeah, it’s like cranes in the sky. Sometimes I don’t wanna feel those metal…”
As I came to write this section, I wondered what was causing my mind to go blank. My best friend suggested that maybe it was because I had dealt with this experience alone and didn’t know how to share it. But I don’t think it was that. Writing this piece has shown me that I have come a long way in writing and being vulnerable to the world, especially my readers. I think I may not have felt the need to revisit something I had finally let go of, as I don’t resonate with the person who hurt me or even the girl I was who got hurt. So, I was having trouble figuring out how to navigate discussing one of the most challenging moments in my life but after receiving my final answers and lessons, I think I have enough wisdom now. Despite letting go of this wound, I can still lay flowers for the parts of myself that have passed on while celebrating my homecoming. Isn’t this why we lay flowers for the dead, right?
I thought I had already gone through a great deal of pain in my life, but once again, I’ve been humbled and shown that I know nothing and am not the maker of this life. Experiencing heartbreak for the first time is what I’d like to believe falling in love is like for the very first time; it’s only apparent once it occurs. This experience [heartbreak] occurred about two years ago. I can speak in depth about what it feels like to get your heart ripped out and left broken, but I won’t. The most that I will say about this experience is that it almost feels unreal; you are in so much pain you can’t help but believe you are dreaming. When you’re in the heart of something, you feel helpless, like clouds won’t part, and your pain doesn’t have an end, but it is entirely untrue; what goes up must come down, as they all say. Our life is signed with specific tasks, and we must go through certain experiences to get closer to becoming the person meant to achieve them; this is what heartbreak did for me. I needed to completely lose myself and get warped up into my pain to figure out who I was, and in return, I learned that everything I need is within me. The only person I can not get away from is me; therefore, I owe myself endless love, patience, kindness, and forgiveness. This experience serves as a reminder that we must go through everything to become the person we are meant to be.
I ran away from myself, doing all of the things Solange mentioned in her song, but after a while, I finally accepted that I had to welcome and embrace all of my hurt because it wasn’t going anywhere. The moral point is this: it doesn’t matter what you do to avoid your pain; you will always be returned to a “metal cloud.” No one or nothing can save us from the pain we experience; the people who hurt us will not be the people who heal us; it is you and will always be you. Despite life's challenges, we have to face it all with open arms, no shortcuts or easy solutions. I finally know what Solange was trying to say through this project: it highlights life's complexities while holding space for us in all of our states and chapters in life, hence, “A Seat at the Table.” We only get one life, so why not be kind, honest, and forgiving to ourselves as we navigate through the motions of it?
IV. Borderline (An Ode to Self Care)
“So let’s take it off tonight. Break it off tonight. Baby, let’s know when to let go. Know when to let go, oh.”
The moment the dark clouds began to part from me is a day I will always remember. Ironically, the same friend I was on the phone with the night I told my grandparents I was letting go of my conditioned dream, we had planned a date to meet in the city (manhattan). Of course, she was running late, so I walked around for a bit. Following my impulse and inclination to art, I decided to walk into an art gallery. I did what I usually do: walk around listening to music while fully immersing myself in the artwork. Before I headed out, I had a long conversation with one of the assistants. Towards the end of the conversation, she told me how she thought I would be a perfect fit for an internship at the gallery. So, I mustered whatever self-esteem and self-conviction I had and walked up to the owner to introduce myself. When I walked out of the gallery, I left with two things: an internship and confidence I had not felt in over a year. From this moment forward, all of the burdens, depression, and pain I was feeling began to subside. Although I was still figuring out who I was and was still feeling extreme lows, I had started to make space for joy, love, and hope for my future. I began learning, processing, and accepting that extreme lows and highs can exist simultaneously. I don’t have to hyper-identify or stick to just one thought or feeling, but instead, go through the motions of it all and let them flow like the wind.
V. Things I Imagined
“Saw things I imagined. I saw things I imagined. I saw things I imagine. I saw things imagined. I saw things I imagined. Things I imagined. Things I imagined. Things I imagined. Taking on the light, taking on the light… ”
During an interview with Solange discussing her latest project, When I Get Home, she talked about her journey with evolution and discovering herself through this album, “All of these conversations for me have been grounded in evolution. Thinking that you know the way and then having gone through something completely out of my control - which for me at the time was my health - and coming up with new ways of experiencing and coping with the world. For me rebirth always starts at the beginning, which was coming home.” I think the term “home” can be used interchangeably when discussing Solange’s intentions with this album. But I relate so much with everything she said. During the time that felt like the pits of hell, I longed to “find myself." It wasn’t until I began submitting to the journey of grief and healing that I realized in our attempt to reinvent or find ourselves, we’re just running away from our core. In my effort to find myself, I kept looking to everything outside of myself to inform me of who I was when I needed to stay still and listen. It was in my act of stillness that the unveiling of my answers began. Once I went home to myself [my roots], all that the universe, God, my ancestors, and whomever else had conspired in my favor began to come to fruition during my last semester of college.
After finally coming home to myself, I got a curatorial internship at the Brooklyn Museum, where I met incredibly amazing people during my time there, discovered my passion for photography (through Hélène Amouzou and Khadija Saye - I will probably talk about them one day), bought my first film camera (my cute little Kodak M35 I used my entire time during my internship and last semester of college lol), and was the first person of my parents to graduate college. Many other things started falling into place for me, like falling in love with my hair, coming into my personal style, and just loving myself in an entirely new way. After everything, I have learned that all I am and will ever be during my lifetime already exists. The longer I go through life, the more everything (people, places, things, etc) begins to align.
This camera was extremely cheap, but it did exactly what I needed it to do. I am forever grateful I could capture my last semester of college and officially start my photography journey. I will forever be thankful for this particular moment in my life.
VI. Dreams
“Dreams, they come a long way, not today. Dreams, they come a, they come a long way. They come a, they come a long way. They come un, they come undone. They come a, they come around.”
There are numerous ways to interpret A Seat at the Table and When I Get Home. It wasn’t until I visited both albums that I fully grasped that WIGH reflects Solange’s journey to self-discovery just as much as ASATT does. If anything, both albums answer the questions we’ve all been trying to find ourselves— our purpose. With these albums and my journey with grief, self-discovery, and healing, I have learned you have to experience and get through the thick of everything, the good, the bad, the highs, and the lows, to come home to who you are destined to be (without the influence of the outside world or your ego). I still can’t believe dropping my major almost four years ago has led to everything I am today. All of the things that I have said and done in the past were slowly leading to my future today; I had no idea I was speaking life, love, and creativity into myself and experiences I never once considered a possibility for me before. I have come to a rebirth and grown an entirely different love for myself because I returned to who I was at my core, not who I thought I needed to be to survive. All of this has led to me talking to everyone who is reading my blog today, seeing my name written on a museum wall for the very first time in my life (which still feels very unreal), coming to terms with my sexuality, becoming a photographer, and above all, connecting with my purpose.
Despite my anxiety, I feel grounded and confirmed by the universe that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’m truly enjoying the journey and meeting beautiful people along the way. There is no desire to rush to anything because this story proves that all of my experiences and sensations are never a waste. As Solange stresses in this song, dreams will come around as long as you’re patient.
After everything I have said today, I’d like to leave everyone who was meant to read this essay a question. Life is constantly changing, but after all the physical and spiritual changes you’ve been through, what is the one thing that hasn’t left you — what is your core?
ↀ. Rise
“Fall in your ways, so you can’t crumble. Fall in your ways, so you can sleep at night. Fall in your ways, so you can wake up and rise (...) Walk in your ways, so you will wake up and rise.”
While compiling these photos, I started crying while listening to Rose in the Dark by Cleo Sol. Then, a quote I read years ago popped up in my mind, “Let the broken bones know that they are going to be okay.” I wish I could go back in time to let baby Mia know that everything will be okay and that the adult she becomes will be everything she longed for.
I don’t think the journey to healing stops, so I won’t say life post-heartache/grief/self-discovery/etc. However, I can say life post-shedding past selves. This is what life looks like for me today: a lot of art, writing, learning, pretty cocktails, and, most importantly, being kind to myself.
Thank you to all the people in my life, new, old, or those who’ve departed to go on their own path who have helped, inspired, and influenced me to reach where I am today. And a special thanks to my friends who have stuck with me until the darkness let out and I reached my light — I love you. I am incredibly grateful for another year of life and excited to see what my twenty-fourth year around the sun has stored for me.
As always, thank you to everyone who spent the time reading this! I love y’all so so much. Until next time!!!
this is a beautiful self reflection d'mia. i'm so glad you've been able to self-assuredness about you path and i'm sure there's still many wonderful experiences awaiting you 💖 happy 24th!!!
What a beautiful love letter to the past versions and future versions of yourself from the way you exist now, in this moment. 😭🥹 I hope that you feel seen as you journey through your artistic practices, may they both bloom you and call you home.