The Roots of Solful Truths

He had three sons before me: my brothers. We never needed labels like “half” or “step.” We’re whole. They supported him in caring for me, each imprinting my heart in their own way. Their mother became my mother too, and their wives became mothers to me as well. I moved to Harlem with my father in 2002, where neighborhood mothers and teachers raised me alongside him. These women taught me how to share, recognize kinship in community, begin again, and bloom.

I was, and am, still sensitive, often quiet with strangers, but full of words with those I love. School became one of my first homes, and educators became elders. Looking back, I understand how rare and sacred it is when a child feels held by a learning environment.

Life first showed me the gaps. I learned early what happens when families are asked to carry too much alone, when grief has no language, and when support is inconsistent or unavailable. Education later taught me how to build bridges, giving me tools to name what I was experiencing and eventually help other families name what they were navigating too.

My first conversation with the sky began when I lost my abuela. At seventeen, when my father passed from lung cancer, grief visited me again and became my companion, one I am still learning to live beside. Adulthood came abruptly, and with it came depression, disconnection, and a deep spiritual void. I couldn’t understand the God I thought I knew, and I couldn’t find my footing in the world as it was.

College magnified everything. I faced greater trauma, physical and emotional diagnoses, and a deep searching for roots in a life that felt unfamiliar. Western medicine helped, but it wasn’t enough. It was my ancestors who helped me remember. A dream visitation from my grandmother and a conversation with my father opened a new way forward, and in reconnecting with my body, I began to heal emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

Traveling abroad deepened this shift. I began to see grief not only as loss, but as an opening into new ways of being. Strangers became mirrors. Love became political. And I began learning holistic modalities like afro-indigenous plant wisdom and reiki, grounding myself in spiritual frameworks rooted in reverence, rhythm, and remembrance.

My story carries the reality of navigating life without the full support we all deserve, and the strength it takes to rebuild it. Healing, parenting, and transforming ourselves are not paths that exist alone. They are shared responsibilities, woven across generations and across roles.

Solful Truths was born from this journey. It’s not a place, it’s a living practice. A spiritual extension of my devotion to holding space and walking with others through transition, especially families navigating change, overwhelm, advocacy, and rebirth. Together, we remember who we are, where we come from, and how we might reimagine the world — together.