Black.

Black.

The most powerful, scariest and alluring color in my opinion. It is beautiful in all its glory.

I love wearing it and most importantly, I love being it. Black that is. But this is not a black pride post. Even though every time I write it is a black pride post because I am a black woman who has pride in her blackness and her creative expression a la Comme Coco.

This is about a different black.

Black often times symbolizes death.

A year ago today I almost died.

Not by my own hands because I did go through some extremely dark, dark periods where taking my own life seemed like the relief to my pain but I am not speaking on my suicidal ideations. That period has without a doubt permanently passed.

A year ago, my heart had stopped and I suffered from a rare form of strep. Strep pyogenes group A to be exact. It’s not good. Not at all. I had an above 104.7 degree fever for 3 days straight and by the time I arrived at the ER, I was over 105 degrees. Brain damage territory. But I’m still smart. But my heart… Well lol.

A year ago I was all alone in Baltimore with no family, friends, or boyfriend as I cried myself to sleep in the bed of the telemetry unit at St. Agnes Hospital.

That was black.

My black period taught me how resilient I am but most importantly taught me to see the beauty in souls. At this point in my life I cut black souls out of my life with the quickness. I may wear black head to toe but I strive for my insides to be as pure as snow.

Speaking of beauty in souls. There were only 2 people to visit me at the hospital. One of which is truly one of my dearest and best friends. At the time though, we were very casual acquaintances in the blogging world. Teena of Fashion for Breakfast went above and beyond for me during that time and still does. She truly shows me every single day how beautiful her soul is inside and out. I will not go on and on because when she reads this, she will instantly tell me I am “being a pisces” but I think it is important to highlight the truly good people in your life.

So Teena, I thank you.I thank you for the 79 minutes you spent with me in that dreary hospital room and I thank you for holding my hand to this day. You are a beautiful soul and deserve the best in this world and don’t you ever forget that.

So while I may wear all black, the hope that you brought to me on that visit in the hospital radiates pure white in my soul every minute of every day. So, thank you. Thank you for being a great Samaritan and my guardian angel that day!

I urge everyone to never give up. No matter what. EVER. Let your black periods go and take them as lessons. Let them be a gift rather than a curse. Learn from your mistakes and treat yourself with all the love you can muster. But most importantly…….

I leave you with this.

Black is so F’in beautiful!