A Surrender That's Remaking Me

"I am life, strength, woman." — Julia de Burgos

Hey loves,

Three weeks ago, I was engulfed in the winds of change that came from experiencing a kind of rage I had never felt before. This rage ran through me like electricity, making sure every current was intentional. Somewhere in it all, I realized I was also enraged because, in embracing this next cycle of my life, I had already reached a breaking point. A point where my hands were up in the air, surrendering to the Divine.

When the damage was done, I found myself staring back at my reflection with final tears. This chapter is done. Motherfuckers will not play with me anymore.

Lately, when I go to speak, there is a silence so loud my ears bleed. Sensing the room all at once, I realize something different is happening with how I am being seen. It feels odd and nonsensical because somehow, in all this unraveling, I am becoming me again.

And here, I stand.
Naked.
At the crossroads.
Of knowing who I’ve always been
And returning.

So many of us are trying to reach a destination place.
Trying to move as quickly as manmade time.
Trying to have it all logically figured out.

But if there’s anything I’ve learned by now, it’s that your perception creates your reality. The quality of what makes it real is shaped by the quality of your thoughts: your inner dialogue, your subconscious, your conscious mind, and the imprint of traumatic experiences.

Maybe it all needed to happen. Maybe we’re right where we need to be.

The truth is, I don’t have motivational words for this piece. I’ve been stalling in sharing my next set of work because I used to say that my inner world is all I have, my feelings are me. And now I am in a place where I can acknowledge that I am not my feelings, but what I’ve felt will always be a part of me.

My last piece was raw, real. Someone should’ve told me that sometimes releasing your art leaves a residual after-shock that doesn’t always feel so good. I couldn’t even record it because it was another one that needed a place to land before needing to be heard. When grief showed up for me at 17, I had no idea what life was going to look like. Honestly, I didn’t have much of an idea prior either, but at least knew I was in a program that would get me to and through college — that was enough.

But when the ground beneath me shattered, my sight upon the things, people, and places that mattered went blurry. I had to find my why in life again. And in that finding, I never imagined it would lead me here.

And here we are.
Full.
Together.
In this moment.

Lately, life has been surprising me with new experiences, new connections, and something in my core is shifting while staying entirely rooted. At the same time, I’ve just started a poetry unit with my students. Their curiosity, playfulness with language, and their willingness to experiment with meaning has been rubbing off on me. I can feel my own writing wanting to speak in new shapes and sounds. It feels like my spirit is asking for a different kind of expression, and I’m finally listening.

I’m learning that returning to yourself requires a breaking. A surrender.

And I guess this is mine.

In community,

Selena

P.S. I’m expanding my circle of NYC birthworkers who offer night support so I can better refer families in need. If you or someone in your community provides this care, I’d love to connect. Please email me at solfultruths@gmail.com. 💛