Inside My Velvet Rope

This piece is a deep dive into breaking free from being perceived, generational trauma, & setting hard boundaries so that you can finally live in the now. (Oh, and warning: F bombs were dropped).

In 1997, Janet Jackson did her big one with the release of The Velvet Rope. Back then, I was too young to realize that this was her emancipation album. The 90’s Janet era was the epitome of a chef’s kiss. She dared to explore her sexuality, lay out years of trauma, the toll it took on her mental health, and bare her soul to the world. To this day, I feel that this is one of the most vulnerable albums I’ve encountered, and as I explore my own evolution, it only felt right to do it to the song I consider my personal anthem.

we have a special need, to feel that we belong…

the velvet rope:¹ in this case - used as a metaphor to describe a sense of exclusivity and restricted access; a boundary that exists to maintain emotional well-being and promote an environment that encourages growth, avoiding toxicity and stress, and only allowing authentic vibes to intertwine with my being. I am a vibe personifed and will be treated as such. Asé.

The urge to belong. It must be a part of “human nature” - embedded in our being to seek connection and community.

For so long, I wanted to fit in—shrink down so I could blend in with the crowd and go with their flow. It’s tiresome, you know, being the “black sheep” in the family, the eccentric friend in the group, the weirdo surrounded by normies.

I have no desire to climb corporate ladders, and I’m on the fence about funneling more money into traditional higher education. Instead, I learn through life experiences and, like Lynn from Girlfriends, have more credentials than I know what to do with… and I’m learning to be okay with that.

does what they think of you determine your worth?

You see, in this era, I've come to appreciate the power of operating on your own timeline and dancing to the beat of your own drum. Fuck FOMO.

FOMO leaves you broke and broken.

FOMO makes you feel inferior if you can’t participate.

FOMO causes fear.

FOMO speaks to the insecure part of you and extorts it of resources it does not have.

FOMO is the reason that Apple, at one time, had more money than the US government.²

FOMO promotes us to operate at the lowest forms of ourselves and stifles our ability to be the unique persona we were born to be.

In a world where we would choose to outlaw homelessness³ before fixing the root of the issues (lack of mental health resources, better support for our veterans, inflation and the increase of layoffs across multiple industries, the price of housing, the lack of shelters, and the increase of pricing on basic needs…) I have no choice but to bet on me.

…because let’s be real… my work is honest, but it needs to pay some bills.

You can’t blame nobody but you. I hate to admit that I operated from a state of comparison and hesitation. It’s a thing that I realize was handed down to me and a generational curse I dare to break. Instead of trusting my instincts and pursuing the things that aligned with my values, I allowed FOMO to steer me toward what I deemed “safer choices.” These choices would end up biting me in the ass, and while I always leave out with something (because I’ll be damned if I don’t leave a job without a new skill and some official credential)⁴, I missed out on some amazing independent opportunities.

You gotta mean what you say, you gotta say what you mean. Creating my velvet rope allowed me to tap into the deep, intrinsic sense of purpose that resonates with my core. In this era, I’m cultivating self-assurance and confidence to create the opportunities that truly matter. This also means I must relinquish the fear of being perceived as less than. I embrace that I’m not for everybody and everybody sholl ain’t for me. I no longer will shrink myself down to be loveable or even approachable. I will simply be me.

we go deep

Side by Side: Janet and A Dope Black Girl - the resemblance is uncanny! lmfao

I am a tapestry of light and shadow, each thread makes me whole and complete.

What I lacked growing up was transparency. The stories I desperately needed to hear did not come from my elders. The stories that were told were half-truths sprinkled with cryptic messages that required deciphering, and the person who could crack the code was often dead.

If these stories were told in their raw, authentic form - maybe I could have been better prepared when it came to the history of mental health and neurodivergence in the family. Maybe I could have had a better relationship with my mother. Maybe I could have learned to love myself before the age of 30.

But we can’t live in the world of maybe.

So I’m living in the now.

The Velvet Rope empowers me to reclaim my narrative and continue to be an example of what self-love looks like, growing from a vessel that did not always affirm its worth. To live on this earth, there has to be some level of “survival mode” activated because, yeah… the rent is due, due, and always due, but I’ve found balance.

Dare to go deep.

Dare to forge a pathway of growth and transformation that flourishes beyond your being, rippling outward into your community and beyond.

Dare to tell the stories that were never told, that stayed in the darkest corner of the basement because they were deemed dishonorable. Leaving these stories buried only continues the cycle of trauma and delays the process of healing generational curses.

For the sake of myself and my daughters, I want to heal so loudly that it’s embedded in their bodies and comes as naturally as breathing. I want them to dare to go deep, not just with themselves, but with me - because I’m nobody’s perfect. I want them to have balanced resilience.

I try my best to use the word “resilience” with intention, especially when it comes to black women, as I will die on the hill that it is not our job to be resilient. We deserve to be soft, we deserve to be vulnerable, we deserve to be tired, we deserve to “get somebody else to do it”, we deserve to stand on our no. But with that said, we are the epitome of duality, pillars of strength, and the creators of thriving in spite of it all.

So, I leave you with this:

In your velvet rope era, you choose who gets to enter your sacred space. Protect your peace and thrive in the company of those who truly value you.

a few quick notes before you go

I want to take the time to thank you all for allowing me to let my thoughts go and flow. I always have several drafts in rotation, and it’s usually not until the night before that a draft is picked, finished, and published. These pieces are often raw thoughts and explorations of my inner self that I share because I feel spiritually led that someone out there may need these words. For those of you who are new here: This is how I present myself regularly, this is how I coach, this is who I am.

If you enjoyed this (or any other of my letters) sharing on your favorite platform is one of the best ways to support a creative (and it’s free). In the case that you would like to donate to the coffee fund Ko-Fi (never expected but always appreciated).

songs that inspired this week’s letter:

ICYMI:

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BlackStack is a publication that curates black history, music, culture, quotes, call-to-actions, and whatever we desire to share via our Notes (public) and our private newsletter subscription. We honor the presence and need for communities and in turn, hope that this space is honored in that same way. Our goal is to provide opportunities for black creatives to network, learn, and feel supported throughout their journey while being comfortable in the space their in. This is meant to feel like a good ol-fashioned cook-out. Durags and bonnets are welcome.

1. This is my personal definition of the velvet rope… so if you see it somewhere else… *bombastic side eye*

2. Fun Number; Apple Has Twice As Much Cash As The US Government - Forbes

3. The Supreme Court says cities can punish people for sleeping in public places

4. I wanted to insert that Denzel Washington clip so bad… but I try to keep it light on the video on here for the sake of promoting reading.