Welcome to The WELLS Healing Center and our monthly newsletter. We're so happy to have you.
This newsletter touches on themes of healing from trauma. Please take care of yourself as you read and feel free to step away if needed. Remember, you are always in control of how you engage with this space.
From Della's Desk:
When we first introduced “Seeding Softness” last month, our journey began. Now we're exploring foundations - how to lay them, how to trust them, how to breathe new life into them.
Before I share about the deep work with my coach Ama that began in 2020, I invite you to pause and reflect: What foundations of healing are you currently resting on? When you think about moments of growth or healing in your past, which ones still provide you strength today? Notice what sensations arise in your body as you reflect on these memories.
This is a story about finding breath again.
In my early faculty years, the air grew thin. Finishing my PhD and stepping into faculty life, I found myself trapped in academia's suffocating cycle of self-sacrifice, mistaking breathlessness for dedication. Anti-Blackness filled every space - faculty meetings, classrooms, hallways. My poly identity stayed buried, compressed under fears of hypersexualization. Twelve-hour workdays left no room to breathe, no space for soul-care.
What I didn't realize then, but understand clearly now, is that this pattern of self-sacrifice, of silencing pain, of taking on an undue amount of suffering, of putting my needs behind the wellness of others (especially other Black people experiencing marginalization), of not feeling worthy enough of ease, safety, joy, rest, and comfort to demand it - all of this began immediately following an early sexual assault.
Like many survivors, that traumatic moment shattered my foundation, setting me on autopilot. Everything scattered. Body, spirit, family - all disconnected. One devastating belief took root: my body was meant for exploitation, care would always be denied. These are the common protective beliefs many survivors develop - our minds making sense of senseless pain. What others saw in me as success in academia and psychology was really just my normalized trauma responses at work.
Enter Ama, in 2020. Amidst the chaos of a global pandemic and the never ending pandemic of anti-Blackness, alongside the powerful but hella exhausting work of co-founding and leading Academics for Black Survival and Wellness for the first time, Ama became the first solid brick in my new foundation, providing the consistent, attuned presence that allows our nervous systems to begin trusting again. She was the witness, challenger, resource, and mirror I needed to see more clearly the impact of white supremacy on my body and spirit.
Our early sessions were simple. We breathed. Just breathed. She saw how constricted my life had become and created space - sacred, simple space - for air to flow again. The patterns we built then still sustain me. Together, we dreamed possibility back to life. Pain I knew intimately; hope needed practice. Through our work and my journaling, new visions emerged. Life beyond academia's narrow corridors. Space to exist fully. I began setting boundaries. Doctor visits. Real meals. Moments of rest. Small breaths leading to deeper ones.
By 2021, these seeds broke through hard ground. The message was clear: I could no longer stay in spaces that kept me gasping.
As I wrote in my resignation letter to the University of Florida:
“Racial trauma is real. Racial trauma is real. Racial trauma is real. I'm at a point where I need to preserve my wellness and where I have options that'll allow me to do work that facilitates more liberation for me and those I work with and for (e.g., Black folx, queer BIPOC).”
This decision to leave academia wasn't just about escaping suffocation. It meant reimagining connections - especially with my students. While I could no longer serve as their formal advisor, I sought sustainable ways to remain present. Each breath now required balance.
The balance felt precarious. Daily. On one side: my deep desire to support these students, to be the representation needed in a toxic space. On the other: the urgent need to shed the ‘mammy’ trope that had kept me breathless, a role society too often forces on fat Black femmes like me.
Navigating this new dynamic meant finding sustainable ways to support students without compromising my own needs. It meant leaping into the unknown, burdened by student loan debt, with only one donor and one consulting contract as the launchpad for my new endeavors. In this transition, I had to constantly remind myself that taking care of my own wellness was not just permissible, but necessary for creating lasting, positive change.
If you feel resourced enough now, pause here. Think about a time you chose liberation despite fear. Ground yourself first. Then consider: What gave you breath when you leapt? What wisdom from your past steadied you? What future vision pulled you forward? Remember - you can pause for this reflection whenever you need.
My leap wasn't just about personal healing. It was about creating spaces where everyone could breathe freely. Instead of fighting for small gasps of air within constraining institutions, I chose to build something new, solely on the foundation of my hope and faith, buoyed by Black feminist principles.
In choosing to leave, I committed to building something entirely new - a vision I had never seen realized. I stayed true to mentoring and sponsoring students beyond university walls, even as I built my businesses from the ground up. I began building spaces for teaching and healing - three distinct ventures that I hoped would embody wellness, equity, love, liberation, and survival. While two of these spaces flourished into what are now WELLS and Blafemme Healing, I made the difficult but necessary choice to step away from the third when I realized it couldn't fully align with the Black feminist ethics central to my work. Through it all, I continued healing from academia's wounds and past traumas, understanding how deeply they intertwined with each new step forward.
Throughout this process, Ama held me up. Without other structures of support, I began building. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. This process of laying a new foundation involves recognizing when existing structures no longer serve your growth and having the courage to create spaces that do, even when society tells you to be grateful for the crumbs you're given.
A Moment of Softness: Find a comfortable position. Feel the air on your skin. Take deep, intentional breaths. Notice how even this simple act of breathing required foundation-building first - space, safety, permission. Just as my deepest healing needed preliminary steps - finding Ama, setting boundaries, leaving toxic spaces - your journey too may need its own pre-work. As you breathe, remind yourself: “I honor the pace of my healing. Each small step - each boundary set, each moment of rest claimed, each toxic space left behind - builds the foundation I need for deeper work.”
Remember: laying new foundations is ongoing work, and the deepest healing often requires careful preparation. Before I could even begin addressing my core traumas, I needed to create space to breathe, find the right support, and leave environments that kept me wounded. Some days we stumble, some days we soar, but every step - even the preliminary ones - matters. It takes patience, especially in a world that rarely makes space for Black femmes, survivors, trans and queer individuals to heal at their own pace. But with each brave choice, each small act of self-care, each “yes” to our own healing journey - no matter how basic it might seem - we create more room for deeper work. This ripples outward, touching not just our own lives but our entire community.
Until we meet again in this space, I invite you to honor wherever you are in this process. Maybe you're just beginning to notice where you need air. Maybe you're gathering resources and supports. Maybe you’re making your first moves away from what harms you. Or maybe you're ready for deeper work. Wherever you are, know that each and every movement you make counts, and you’re held in community here.
With love, Della
Please continue reading for some important announcements and a message from Chris Mantegna on the opportunity to support students in the Yellow Island Program.
GET CONNECTED WITH WELLS + FRIENDS:
WELLS Collective Member Twanna Hodge is conducting a research study on “Understanding How Mental Health Professionals Provide Care to Black Caribbean Communities: A Phenomenological Study.” This study will examine mental health professionals' experiences in providing care to English-speaking Black Caribbean communities. If you're interested, click here to learn more!
Learn more about the Yellow Island Program, a message from Chris: Over the last three years more than 150 students, parents, community members and friends have come to learn the joy of connecting to the marine environment through the Yellow Island Program. As a Black, fat woman and a non-traditional student in marine science, I am simultaneously visible and invisible. The weight of trying to access who I want to be and see in STEM became too much to bear every time I looked around and couldn’t see me in spaces where black squares and anti-racist readings of White Fragility rain down like tic-tacs. So I made a space. Yellow Island started as a way to prove that the old guard is wrong - science is not objective nor single genius shit - it is a team event. Not only can ‘hard science’ be done and the data be rigorous, but it can exist secondarily to community, safety and belonging. I bring this to you in hopes that you will help me keep it going by supporting all six of this year’s mentees in getting to their first scientific conference. Each one has been accepted to present their scientific work from our summer at SICB in Atlanta in January - a chance for all six to give their first conference presentations in a room of familiar faces. Since all of these students are STEM-adjacent in their majors, access to funding is exceptionally limited. To bring all 6 undergrads out to SICB it will be approximately $1400 each (conference registration, travel, lodging and per diem). So far we have enough to cover three students and we are out of places to apply. If you are able to donate, a little goes a long way (donate here - all contributions to WELLS between now and November 7 will go to these students!). If you aren’t able to donate and are interested in knowing more about the program, the students, or all things marine, please feel free to reach out to me. Thank you for letting me share this little bit of my work with y’all.
Join the waitlist for groups starting in the new year! The WELLS Black Grad Student Mentoring and Community Care Group, the WELLS Healing and Wellness Grad Group for Transgender, Nonbinary, Gender Diverse Black, Indigenous, Students of Color, and the Blafemme Healing Sanctuary: A Virtual Black Feminist Healing Group waitlists are filling up! Click the group title to join the waitlist - to learn more about WELLS groups, check out our offerings page on our site. Please share these group offerings widely with folks you know who need the space!
Are you part of an organization looking for consulting on liberation and wellness for marginalized folks? WELLS workshops aim to facilitate healing and liberation for all. The sessions cover a variety of topics centered on moving people towards liberation and wellness. We offer these workshops to groups such as faculty departments, teams, and organizations - inquire HERE.
Do you have expertise in the interview process for internships and jobs in the field of psychology? Support our group, A Cozy Dismantling: Support Group for Disrupting White Supremacy within Evaluative Career Transitions, intended for BIPOC individuals applying for internship and/or who are on the job market! Reply to this email if you'd be willing and able to join one of our group sessions to help prep people for interviews or give suggestions for the ranking process.
WELLNESS TIP - election stress.
Some folks engaged in activism become so burnt out they sometimes must stop their work or become too jaded to continue. How can folks find the balance between activism/civic engagement and not drawing too deeply from their own well? What are some tools, methods, practical tips, and strategies we can use to tend to our bodies, minds, and each other?
Finding balance between activism or civic engagement and preserving our wellness is crucial, especially considering the risk of burnout or becoming jaded. We need to have a deep understanding of ourselves and it can help to identify a personal lane for our resistance work. This entails recognizing which forms of resistance are not only impactful for the cause but also nourishing for our own healing journey at the time. It's also important to celebrate each effort made in activism and reflect on the impact, personal feelings, and lessons learned. This process allows us to acknowledge our achievements while also considering adjustments for future actions.
Additionally, for queer and trans individuals, particularly queer and trans people of color, it's essential to recognize that our existence, joy, and pleasure are still very much acts of resistance. We have to really know this at a soul level, and that may require seeking support to address feelings of worthiness or undergoing some reeducation, as societal norms often undermine these aspects of identity. Ultimately, finding a sense of harmony here involves honoring the importance of self-care and self-preservation alongside one's commitment to collective care and activism, recognizing that both are essential components of sustained engagement in social justice work.
There are several tools and strategies that we can utilize to tend to our bodies, minds, and connections with others:
Della's practice called, "In this body, in this room," where you sing these words aloud or silently to yourself whenever you notice feelings of disconnection or disembodiment. As you do this, focus on touching different parts of your body and paying attention to your breath, grounding yourself in the present moment. You can also try shifting your focus to the items in the room, noting their colors or reading any text you see. This simple practice helps to recall yourself from past memories or future worries and brings you back to the present gently. Everyone has different strategies that will help them to ground and so it’s important to explore and play around to find the ones right for you.
Another effective strategy is journaling, particularly a technique Della refers to as "Angry writing." In this practice, try to use a pen color that represents your anger and apply pressure that mirrors your emotional intensity as you write or draw the feelings and sentiments you need to release. This allows you to express and process emotions in a tangible way, providing a sense of catharsis and relief. Shredding or burning or sharing the piece after can also support the process.
Lastly, it's crucial that you allow yourself to be supported. Whether it's finding solace in the physical support of a comfortable couch or soft grass, or reaching out to a family member or loved one to share how you're feeling and ask for specific support, tapping into a sense of connection and support can be incredibly grounding and comforting. While it sounds simple to some, seeking support can be challenging, particularly for those of us who regularly witness inaction even when our needs are named. Ndeye Oumou Sylla has some great resources for folks looking to be better able to respond to the bids for care that come in from your loved ones. It's important that we are able to both request support and respond with care to the requests we receive.
STAY CONNECTED - SOCIALS:
Follow us on Instagram and like our Facebook page to stay up-to-date on all our events and opportunities!
Enjoy these monthly blog posts? Forward this to a friend and/or encourage them to join our email list here.
Thank you for being a part of our community, The WELLS Healing Center Team
Comments