🔥🌀 IMAWOL POWERHOUSE SUNDAY TRANSMISSION 🌀🔥
Join me in celebrating the divine essence of motherhood in “The Divine Trinity of Motherhood: A Mother's Day Tribute.” 🎉 In this heartfelt tribute, we recognize not just moms but all who embody the nurturing spirit—femmes, caregivers, and Mother Earth herself. 💚✨ From the ones who show up even in their struggles to those who mother communities without a title, this video honors the unseen labor of love that transcends traditional boundaries. We delve into the neurodivergent experience of motherhood, highlighting the beauty in the chaos and the importance of legacy. So let’s uplift and acknowledge every person who embodies the divine energy of nurturing. You are seen, you are honored, and you are cherished. 💫 Don’t forget to like, share, and spread this message! #MothersDay #DivineMotherhood #Caregivers #Neurodivergence #LoveLegacy #MotherEarth OUTLINE: 00:00:00 Introduction 00:00:05 Mother's Day Reflection 00:00:23 Playing Along 00:00:26 Labor of Love 00:00:43 Honoring Mothers 00:01:12 Neurodivergent Twist 00:01:29 Acknowledgment and Honor 00:01:35 Divine Trinity 00:01:41 Closing Remarks
"YOU KNOW SOMETHING? THE MOM, THE DAUGHTER, THE HOLY TRINITY—WAIT, DID I SAY THAT?"
🎙️
“Someone told me Happy Mother’s Day! and I blinked like a deer in 17 timelines. ‘Oh yeah… that’s today?’ Yeah, I didn’t get the neurotypical memo that Mother’s Day was once a year. I’ve been mothering in quantum code every day—no off switch, no holiday hat.”
But okay, okay...
Today, I’ll play along.
Because even though I forgot the Hallmark date…
I never forget the labor of love.
Not the physical kind only—but the spiritual, emotional, ancestral womb work that women, femmes, caregivers, and divine mother energy pour into the world on rotation.
💚💫 So today, we say:
Happy Mother’s Day to:
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The moms who show up even when they’re breaking down
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The non-moms who mother whole communities
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The aunties who raised us
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The sisters who step in without being asked
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The neighbors who see our kids when schools don’t
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The protectors, the holders, the prayer warriors, the night shifters
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The ones who say “take what you need baby” even when they’re running low
And yes—Mother Earth, my only and our Great Mother, the one who never asks for thanks but keeps on giving.
🧠💥 Neurodivergent twist incoming
Because real talk? In our world, many of us forget dates—but we never forget the impact. We may not do brunches and balloons, but we’ve built entire legacies of love while being called “too much” or “not enough.”
💥 So to all who mother in ways this world fails to notice—
We see you.
We honor you.
We ARE you.
🌍✨ The Divine Trinity lives within us: The Mom. The Daught. The Force That Birthed It All.
Stay tuned—because this flows straight into a deeper message I promised a relative I’d speak on. But one step at a time, beloveds…
Until then—carry the crown, even if it's cracked.
You were born for this. 👑💚
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A Mother's Silence, A Daughter's Search | |
Bias in Diagnosis | |
Bipolar, Autism, and ADHD | |
Misunderstandings and Misdiagnoses | |
Celebrating Neurodiversity | |
Resilience and Resistance | |
Advocacy, Awareness, and Action | |
Embracing Individuality | |
Building Bridges of Empathy |
🌺 MOTHER’S DAY SPECIAL: METHOD TO THE MADNESS 🌀✨
Cuz I did NOT forget. There’s always a method to my madness—I’m just building up to it.
Eventually, I’m gonna dive into a topic that hits real close to home. 🏠💔
I figured it would, especially for the older generation… and I want them to hear this—
since nobody else had the guts to say it out loud. 🎤🧠
Let’s talk.
🧩 You know how many Black older therapists with fancy letters and “credentials” I sat across from, thinking they could help?
They diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder for over TEN. PLUS. YEARS.
Despite me telling them I had these symptoms since childhood.
Despite me saying:
“This isn’t new. It’s always been this way.”
Did anyone take me to a mental health specialist back then? ❌ Nope.
Not even my younger sister (the “Earth Mother” type 🌱), who laughed at me, called me a hoarder—
but never stopped to ask why I couldn’t let go.
(It was ADHD. It turned into OCD.) 🔁💥
But if they’re being honest now, they’ll say things like:
“Oh, she was just quiet.” 🤫
“Oh, she was shy.” 😶🌫️
“Oh, she stayed to herself.”
OR how about:
“She’s just difficult.”
“She’s mean.” 😤
Yup. I’ve been hearing that one my whole life—from people who didn’t even know me.
They didn’t know I was uncomfortable making eye contact. 🙈
Didn’t know I didn’t like being around children—not because I was an only child—
but because my system was already overloaded.
(And yes, I was an only child… on purpose.)
But nobody thought to connect the dots. They just drew their conclusions.
Well Grandma—remember how I’d cover my ears when y’all popped gum? 💥👂
How I had very specific interests?
Wait—nobody ever knew what they were.
Because you thought silence meant I had nothing to say.
🧠📚 OHHH, but you were wrong.
And let’s not forget what nobody wants to say:
🧠 Maybe it was Autism all along.
Maybe that’s why I don’t laugh when everyone else does.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been told my whole life I “don’t have a sense of humor.”
Or why even the damn psychiatrist—a Black woman with a so-called degree built by neurotypical standards—had the nerve to say:
“You’re always so serious.”
(Like that was a diagnosis.)
Y’all ever stop to ask if maybe I’m not broken—just built different?
People can’t keep up with my thought process, so I get labeled “too much.”
Too intense. Too smart. Too fast. Too something.
✨ Autism.
It makes perfect sense now.
And you know what else?
Or how about when I used to hum when I ate—
remember that?
When FJ told me to shut the hell up and stop making that damn noise?
No, I do.
I think I was about four, and we lived on Oates Street…
For all those who say I’m not from D.C.?
You’re right—I’m from somewhere deeper than your assumptions could ever reach.
I’m from nervous systems that were misunderstood.
From coping mechanisms y’all called “weird.”
From unspoken language, misread by the loudest mouths in the room.
But like Columbo, I’ve spent enough time on this…
More on that when we have another shift. 🕵🏽♀️💭
⚠️ And don’t get me started on all the Black women therapists who’ve admitted to having similar symptoms…
But are still fine calling it “Bipolar” instead of questioning the entire damn system.
Even with their cute little Master’s degrees to back it up. 🎓🤷🏽♀️
💣 Well, let me say it then:
That’s exactly what’s holding so many Black women back.
Ask the ones who went through early menopause, or couldn’t have—or keep—a baby.
Ask the ones dismissed, misdiagnosed, mistreated, and told,
“Just take this pill.” 💊💰
You’d rather believe a doctor that gets a paycheck than someone telling the truth for free.
But I get it... that’s the game.
The path is narrow, not wide. 🔐
🎙️ More to come.
But today?
Let’s sit with this.
💚 Happy Mother’s Day to the ones who mother with clarity, not just casseroles.
To the truth-tellers.
To the daughters reclaiming their stories.
To the ones who were misread, mislabeled, and still made it.
📢 Stay tuned.
I’m not done.
Not by a long shot. 🎯
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