Herrss Blog
Welcome to the blog a space where I share my poetry, my thoughts, and the quiet ideas that shape my becoming. This is where I speak freely, reflect honestly, and invite you into the deeper layers of healing and self-discovery. You’ll also find the heart of my work here: the 4N framework Notice, Name, Navigate, Nurture guiding us back to ourselves, one truth at a time. 🌿
The spirit of a wildflower
In the garden of Becoming Herrss, the wildflower is more than a symbol. She is memory, prayer, and proof of every Black woman who bloomed when no one watered her. She grows in places she was never meant to survive, cracks in concrete, soil that forgot her name, and still, she rises. This movement was born from that kind of becoming. From the ache of women who carried too much in silence. From the softness we were told was weakness. From the wisdom that lives in our wounds.
From Wild Flower To Another
Becoming Herrss is for Black women. For our healing. Our joy. Our voices. This space is rooted in my experience as a Black woman, and I won’t water that down. I can’t speak for what I haven’t lived. But if something here speaks to you, even if you’re not Black, I hope you sit with it. Healing isn’t limited by race or background. Healing is spirit work, and spirit work reaches beyond what the eyes can see.
Grieving the Old Me While Holding the Vision
Tonight, I’ve been thinking. It’s one of those emotional nights where everything bubbles up at once. Sometimes, it’s just hard to believe in yourself. Hard to see yourself somewhere big when all you’ve known is survival. For most of my life, I’ve been in that mode: survive, survive, survive. And now that I’m trying to dream bigger, to build something more, I’m realizing how much grief comes with it.
I Don’t Know What it Feels Like to be Safe.
My wounds go deep. I wish I was joking, but I’m not. This is my reality. And while I know I’m healing, I also know I’ll need a partner one day who doesn’t just tolerate my scars but holds them gently. Someone who wraps me in emotional safety and reminds me that I don’t have to perform to be loved. That I don’t have to be in survival mode anymore. Someone who reminds me that softness is safe. That I am safe.