The love that I deserve is queer and limitless— like me. 

And maybe it is that simple… what makes you feel the most free, when heteronormativity seems so damn shackling. Most alive, when getting up and going for the gusto feels impossible. Most cared for, when society deems you unworthy. Black women have freed me; and helped me free myself. Black women have cared for me, carried me, supported me, walked with me…have not only shown me love but fucking defined it. Truly, our essence has electrified my existence.

Black women are everything— yes. And more often than not, we are seen as [everything] an infinite source to take from… Not often enough are we thought of as a source to contribute to instead; even when we prove time and time again that with overflow, with our own magic, we always multiply. Because we are “everything,” do we not deserve abundance? What I really want for us is the reciprocity and equal effort [in all kinds of relationships] that we deserve. In reality we deserve so much more. What I really want is less misogynoir for us all… What I really want is healthy discussion about how heteronormativity, individualism, capitalism, and white supremacy deeply connect, and all directly oppose our freedom. 

I knew I was queer at the exact moment I realized that I view [Black] women as the everything that we are— a source to contribute to, to nurture, relationships worthy of reciprocation… and ain’t that love itself? I’ve always viewed us through a lens of love. Dating Black women, loving Black women romantically, being a Black woman: there’s a level of intimacy that comes with that understanding. There’s a wanting and a needing. Desire. There’s courage, and bravery, absolute beauty in that kind of love— in queerness. 

This Valentine’s Day calls for self-reflection. Thinking about love, my history as a lover—the fluidity of my sexuality both past and present; thinking about my love as limitless and considering the strength of it all… Who I’ve managed to become at 26, someone whose love for others is the infinite reflection of the love I have for myself; and all that has evolved in ways I never thought possible. I celebrate the “holiday” this year by celebrating me. Solo— romantically inclined rather than romantically involved and still, loved immensely. Asé.