Let’s be honest, with the current state of things doom scrolling has led me to realize one thing — having children I need to raise might be the only thing standing between me and complete chaos.
Which is hella ironic, because if there’s one thing these young people excel at, it’s turning life into a bit of a three-ring circus. They test my patience, push me to grow (whether I asked for that or not), and leave me questioning every one of my life choices at least once a week.
And yet – still – I consider hiding from the world inside my chaotic household a valid lifestyle choice. And my only chance for peace.
(Though if anyone knows of a private island where laundry is outlawed, I’m listening.)
My Little Mayhem Manor is My Safe Space
Sure – my house is pure mayhem. Everyone from toddlers to teenagers, passes through – but I choose to believe it’s teaching me to embrace a new normal. There are the teenagers who have this uncanny ability to argue with the authority of a Nobel Prize armed with YouTube evidence I didn’t ask for. Then there are the hormonal hunger games that mean one moment they’re in tears over an exam, and the next, they’re howling with laughter at their teacher’s unfortunate mullet. (To be fair, the mullet is really bad.)
A tidy home? Let’s just say the dream of spotless countertops and crumb-free corners packed its bags and left a long time ago. And honestly? I’ve made peace with that. Ok well, I’m working on growing into the kind of person who is OK with mess … and can embrace it as evidence of a life being fully lived and stuff.
Because in a world that demands Black people show up flawless just to be treated as competent, choosing to embrace the mess feels like its own form of resistance. It’s stepping out of the status quo that insists we hold ourselves to impossible standards.
And that’s exactly why I’ve become convinced that more than ever, Black folks choosing joy matters.
And I’m starting to look long and hard for joy.
Some Days, Joy Feels Like a Myth.
And then there are of course the days when parenting and just life-ing is not all sunshine and tea parties.
I won’t sugarcoat it. Some days, joy feels about as real as a unicorn riding a rainbow. If reading the news, paying for groceries and buying gas wasn’t enough to make me question the existence of joy, life life-ing does the trick.
Like on a day when I’ve just spent a half-hour explaining to my aging dad (again) why post-seizure driving is a no-go, only to get that dreaded “we need to talk” call from the school. And just when I think I can breathe, work decides to unleash fresh hell – because, why not?
And let’s not even talk about choosing a career that involves dismantling systemic racism and challenging oppressive forces… because that’s a special kind of exhaustion.
Make No Mistake: Black Joy Is a Radical Act.
Black joy is not just a feel-good moment.
It’s a declaration of hope, a necessary form of wellness for the mind, body, and soul.
It’s at the heart of the Black Joy movement, a movement deeply rooted in our rich history and collective experiences. Our joy isn’t just about slapping on a happy face; it’s about carving out space to thrive, to belly laugh, and to soak up all the awesomeness of Black life.
For us Black parents, those pockets of joy are how we stay sane while ignoring the news and juggling our roles as chefs, social workers, nurses, and Parent-Uber drivers extraordinaire.
And my house? My wild, glorious, full house – with nieces, nephews, aunties, uncles, and bonus family always passing through – has become my training ground in finding that joy.
Because connection? Well, it turns out that that’s where joy lives. Even when it’s buried under Laundry Mountain™ and a sea of mismatched socks.
(Seriously, where do the other socks go? Is there a sock Bermuda Triangle?)
Why We’re Launching the 30-Day Joy Challenge
Parenting isn’t perfect, and the world is… well, definitely not perfect. And yes, some days joy feels like a luxury.
And often, it’s in moments when everything feels like hard work and nowhere feels like a safe space – that I’ve learned that Joy doesn’t always come knocking – you have to go looking for it.
This challenge is as much for me, for my family, as it is for you – and for the young people who are watching us navigate a world that doesn’t always see us. It’s my way of reminding myself that there will never be a better time to grab joy with both hands – and certainly, Black History Month isn’t the only time to centre joy.
When we start to lean into Black joy – and how it can uplift Black youth, our men and young women – we know it’s about more than laughter. It’s about planting seeds for a better world. A world where thriving is the expectation.
That’s when Black joy becomes a superpower.
This is why I’m inviting you to join the 30-Day Joy Challenge – as a way to encourage us to find joy in the everyday chaos and reclaim rest, resilience, and connection.
What to Expect from the Challenge
Ok… so this is less of a “challenge” and more like a warm hug wrapped in words. If you’re ready to rediscover joy – whether as a way to recharge or to help you navigate the wild ride the world has us on right now – join me in taking one small, meaningful step at a time.
The free 30-Day Joy Challenge is here to help you:
✔ Unearth moments of joy hidden in the everyday chaos.
✔ Grant yourself the permission to rest, breathe, and recharge.
✔ Honour and celebrate the beauty of Black life, family, and culture.
Because Black joy isn’t just about getting by—it’s about flourishing. It’s about laughing, growing, and boldly showing up for ourselves and each other.
And honestly? I’m so ready to thrive out loud.
Are you?
What You’ll Get
When you sign up, you’ll receive:
✔ A downloadable PDF Joy Guide with 30 daily prompts.
✔ Weekly encouragement emails with tips, bonus resources, and community shoutouts.
Most importantly, by joining the 30-Day Joy Challenge you’ll get the chance to remind the world – and yourself – that joy is always worth seeking.
Ready to Reclaim Your Joy?
Even amidst toddler tantrums, chauffeuring teens, and the eternal mystery of how two chicken breasts will feed five people, joy is there – waiting for us to grab it.
You deserve to choose laughter over tears, scroll past the social media chaos, and remind yourself that this beautiful, messy life is uniquely yours.
So let’s hold onto that joy, unapologetically. Now, let’s get our joy on, fam.
Let’s thrive loud.
