When I was 22 I was in a relationship with someone who told me my hands looked like "slave hands".

It was said as a "joke" but he didn't mean this as a term of endearment...and I certainly didn't receive it as one. 

It was many years later before I was able to call it what it really was--a comment meant to be funny at the expense of my self esteem. But keep in mind this was someone I'd known for a very long time.

Someone who said he loved me.

Someone I shared a bed & my body with.

Someone I wanted to be my husband. 

Can you imagine what it's like to be in relationship with someone who helps you dislike parts of your body that you didn't even know were up for critique??

I pray to God you never have to find out.

It was easy to walk away pointing the finger at all of his faults but many years later it hit me--he was never my real issue. 

It was me all along.

My issue was that I wasn't appalled enough to leave at the first signs of bad behavior. 

That I didn't throw him the deuces when he casually mentioned that an ex-girlfriend (whom we both had restraining orders against) was prettier than me.

And that I didn't bounce when he squeezed his hands around my neck in a fit of rage one summer afternoon. Did he have his own issues?

Absolutely. 

But those were HIS issues, not mine.

My issue was that I didn't know better.

And it's what still makes me feel so sad for that young woman. That no one specifically taught her about the depth of her worth but instead, like most young women, assumed she knew because she fit a few superficial societal markers: educated family with "good jobs", GATE schools & AP classes, exposure to different cultures & experiencing the luxury of travel to distant destinations. 

But those things don't automatically translate into knowledge of self because--as I can now tell you with all certainty--job titles, social classifications & educational degrees don't mean shit when it comes to recognizing your own worth. 

You will never learn about your worth from EXTERNAL THINGS because WORTH IS AN INSIDE JOB.

You hear me?

Worth is an inside job. 

So I made up my own rules as I went along, to fill the gap. I thought holding onto my virginity, graduating from Spelman & having the courage to speak my mind made me someone special.

Someone of value.

I didn't understand that we don't BECOME special--

that there is nothing you can do to BE special because every single one of us is special by sheer virtue of being alive. That the only thing "specialness" requires is breath in your body. It would take me many, many years to understand that...and to learn to let go of the things I'd been holding onto that were never mine to carry in the first place.

So when I talk about Personal Empowerment, know that it comes a deeply personal place. 

It's not just a catchy, social media rallying cry for me--it is thee singular tool I've used to reframe painful stories & disempowering narratives and transform them into teachable lessons...both for myself and for others. 

So do not be fooled--the Dayka you see now is someone I've had to intentionally GROW INTO over the years. 

I was the girl who never really felt like she fit in with the other kids. The one who was never "chosen" by the popular guys. I wasn't having sex, didn't cut class, didn't drink or smoke weed. 

I was just there, in plain sight, desperately wanting to be seen. 

So I spent the early part of my life trying to be different than who I naturally was because I didn't feel like I was good enough with my brown skin, weird name, dysfunctional family & assertive personality, living in a moderately acceptable zip code.

Being one of only a few black girls in my classes throughout elementary, middle & high school definitely didn't help either. 

And because I didn't feel like I fit in, I tried to find ways to make myself smaller than I was because...well, that's just what we do when we think there's something wrong with who we are: 

We try to find ways to blend in & disappear. 

Why?

I'll talk more about tomorrow in Part 2.....