Akosua Dardaine Edwards's Blog

 

Affirmation:I honor the footsteps that came before me, and I plant seeds of dignity, joy, and legacy with every step I take.

Brasilia held me in a way I did not expect. I arrived as part of the me too Global Network delegation, invited to join the March for Reparations and Good Living in Brazil and Beyond. In the days leading up to the march, the city pulsed with gatherings, workshops, and meetings—spaces alive with pride, love, and purpose. Every conversation carried weight, every activity stitched together a fabric of solidarity.

I felt myself being called higher. To pay attention not only to how I show up in the NiNa program, but how I show up in the world. There were women who who had been advocating for dignity and equal rights long before I was even imagined, our ancestors. Their footsteps laid the path I now walk. And with that realization came a quiet accountability: how I live my life must honor them. This is my time to plant seeds, to tend the garden left for me. Brazil reminded me of that truth.

It was also a joy to be with the women of the me too. movement—kind, flexible, fun. Their presence was a reminder that solidarity can be both serious and lighthearted, both strategic and playful. I will forever be grateful for those few days of sisterhood.

The morning of the march began with thunder showers. We dressed for the occasion rain gear, jackets, determination. Yet not a single drop of rain fell. The forecast promised storms all day, but the skies held back. I laughed to myself: the rain gods must have been Black women, holding space for us to move freely.

And move we did. Women of every size, shape, age, and hue filled the streets—dancing, singing, jumping, marching. The air was electric with samba, ancestral vibration, and pure joy. It was more than a march; it was a living testament to resilience, to the insistence on a better life for Black women in Brazil and beyond.

As I left the streets that evening, gratitude sat beside me. But so did responsibility. To carry on the legacy. To hold myself accountable. To continue what the ancestors left for us. Brasilia was not just a destination—it was a reminder, a call, a seed planted deep within me.

Peace and Blessings

Affirmation: I honor my effort, even when it feels imperfect. Every stumble is a step toward strength, every misstep a lesson in resilience. I prepare with intention, I present with courage, and I forgive myself with grace. I am growing, I am learning, and I am enough

 Life has a way of throwing us into moments we think we’re ready for—until we’re standing there, heart racing, words tangled, wishing we could disappear. Today was one of those moments for me.

I had a presentation to give. I knew about it, I prepared for it, but when the time came… I froze. I was nervous, I mumbled, I stumbled through my slides. Honestly, I was just bad. And it hurt, because being chosen to present meant something to me. It felt like an opportunity, and I wanted to rise to it. Instead, I wanted to cry.

But here’s the thing: I didn’t run. I pulled myself together, faced the music, and let the experience humble me. That’s the part I’m holding onto.

From this day forward, I’m making a vow—not just to prepare more, but to practice more, to pay closer attention when I’m presenting, especially when I’m leaning on PowerPoint. Preparation is essential, yes, but so is forgiving myself when I mess up.

And maybe that’s the real gift hidden inside today’s stumble: the reminder that growth doesn’t happen in the comfort zone. It happens in the shaky voice, the sweaty palms, the moments we wish we could rewind.

I didn’t nail the presentation, but I showed up. I learned. And next time, I’ll be stronger, sharper, steadier.

So here’s to the messy moments—the ones that bruise our ego but build our resilience. Preparation matters, yes, but so does grace. I’m choosing to forgive myself, to keep practicing, and to trust that every misstep is just another step forward.

Because life rarely comes neatly packaged, but it always comes with lessons. And I’m ready to keep learning.

Peace and Blessings

 Affirmation: I release the cages I have built around myself. I welcome support, connection, and abundance into my life. I choose freedom over fear, expansion over limitation, and love over self-abandonment. Each day, I open the gates wider and step into the fullness of who I am

I was reading Briana Wiest, one of my favorite truth tellers, I had to pause after reading this “Some of us build our own cages and live within them because we think it keeps us safe.”

Safe. That word echoed. And I immediately asked myself: what cages have I built? What stories do I keep telling myself — and others — that convince me it’s safer to stay locked inside than to step out into freedom? Fear, uncertainty, ignorance, inherited beliefs… they all become bricks in the walls of our self-made prisons.

It was humbling, almost jarring, to look into the mirror of Self and realize: the prisons we build are often harder to leave than the ones imposed on us. Bob Marley said it best: “None but ourselves can free our mind.”

My Aha Moments

Two cages revealed themselves to me:

“People abandon and leave, so I must depend only on myself.” This belief has led me into hyper-independence — a fortress of isolation, resentment, and ultimately, self-abandonment.

Money corrupts.” This story has kept me from embracing abundance, as though wealth itself were tainted, rather than a tool for growth, generosity, and freedom.

Opening the Gates

These realizations shook me awake. And now, I am choosing to be intentional about opening these prison gates. To allow others to support me. To end the cycle of self-abandonment. To welcome abundance in all its forms.

Because the truth is: cages may feel safe, but freedom is where life expands. And I am ready to step into that expansion.

Peace and Blessings

 Affirmation :I stay with myself. I breathe. I feel. I return

If I’m being honest—and I try to be, especially with myself—my coping mechanism is scrolling the internet and isolating. There it is. Named. Not judged, just seen.

Coping mechanisms are curious things. They’re meant to help us shift our attention, to soften the edges of what feels too sharp in the moment. And sometimes, they do just that. They offer a pause, a breath, a buffer. But the trouble begins when the pause becomes a pattern. When the buffer becomes a barrier. When the thing we’re avoiding—grief, fear, uncertainty, even joy—gets buried beneath the scroll, the snack, the spreadsheet, the sweat, the silence.

We all have our go-tos. Work. Exercise. Food. Shopping. Sex. Relationships. Binge-watching. The list is long and familiar. The question isn’t whether we cope. It’s how. And whether the how is helping us return to ourselves—or pulling us further away.

For me, the internet offers a kind of numbing hum. A place where I don’t have to feel too much. Isolation, too, can feel like safety. But both, if I’m not careful, become ways to disappear from my own life.

So this week, I’m choosing something different. I’m choosing to stay. To stay present. To stay with the discomfort. To stay with the sensations in my body, the flutter in my chest, the tightness in my jaw, the ache behind my eyes. To notice. To breathe. To not rush to fix or figure it out.

This is not easy for someone who’s made a habit of sprinting toward solutions. Who’s built a life on being capable, responsive, resilient. But I’m learning that presence is its own kind of power. That feeling is not failure. That staying is a form of strength.

So here’s my gentle challenge to myself: pay attention. To my reactions. My responses. My feelings. Not to control them, but to witness them. To meet them with curiosity instead of critique. To let them teach me something true.

It’s a work in progress. But I’m here for it.

Let’s do this.

Affirmation: I give myself permission to grow, even when it’s uncomfortable. I trust the process, honor my pace, and welcome curiosity as my guide. I am allowed to begin again. 

 Are we willing to give ourselves permission to do a new thing?

Not the kind of permission that comes with guarantees or applause. But the quiet, trembling kind. The kind that whispers, “go ahead and do it,” even when the outcome is uncertain. The kind that invites curiosity, even when clarity hasn’t arrived.

To give ourselves permission, we must first look at what we’re holding on to. What beliefs have become our safety nets, our shields, our stories?

Maybe it’s the belief that we must always be seen to be worthy.Maybe it’s the belief that keeping the peace is more important than speaking our truth.Maybe it’s the belief that mistakes are failures, not teachers.
I want to give myself permission to let go of needing to be seen.To let go of the role of peacekeeper when peace costs my presence.To make a mistake and not spiral into shame.To be curious, even when I don’t know where it will lead.
But to do that, I must look at my patterns.The ones that feel familiar, even when they no longer serve me.The ones that whisper, “Stay here, it’s safer.”And I’ll be honest—this kind of reflection is uncomfortable.It’s not soft or easy. It’s gritty. It’s tender. It’s work.
Here’s the truth I’m learning:To grow, there will be growing pains.To reach the mountaintop, we must climb.To build strength, we must stretch.There is no shortcut. No bypass. No hack.And yes, sometimes I crave the easy way.No pain. No discomfort. No stress.But that’s an illusion.Growth asks for presence. For process. For patience.So today, I give myself permission to grow.To do a new thing.
To be curious.To be uncomfortable.To be uncertain.To be brave.

Because the path to becoming is not paved with perfection.It’s paved with permission.Peace and Blessings

Ready to trust yourself and move beyond doubt? Change is inevitable, but fear doesn’t have to hold you back. Through coaching, you’ll build the confidence to act, balance intuition with logic, and create a life aligned with your truth.

Let’s do this together. Book a session today  and step into your power!

http://www.akosuadardaineedwards.com

Affirmation: I honor the ache and the effort. I trust the timing. I release what is not mine to carry. What is for me will not pass me by—and I meet it with grace, not grasping.

Have you ever wanted something so deeply it felt like your whole being was leaning into it? Like you could taste it, touch it, see it solving everything that felt heavy and uncertain?

I had that moment today.

This consultancy job—I wanted it with all my heart. In my mind, it was the answer to the financial strain I’ve been carrying, the quiet erosion of confidence I hadn’t even realized had taken root. It would pay off debts, restore some ease, remind me of who I am when I’m standing tall.

And yet, everywhere I turned, there were blocks. First the references. Then the health insurance. Then another thing. And another. Today, the final delay came—the insurance was taking longer than expected, and time was running out.

And something shifted.

In the past, I would’ve gone straight into solution mode. Who has time to feel when there’s a problem to solve? That’s what success looks like, right? Find the fix. Keep moving. It’s a rhythm that’s worked for me in many professional settings. But I can say now—with clarity and compassion—it hasn’t worked in many others. Especially in the tender spaces of personal and intimate relationships.

So today, I paused.

I let myself feel the ache. The disappointment. The despair. Even the flicker of hope that hadn’t quite died. I didn’t rush past it. I didn’t numb it with productivity. I sat with it. And then, I went to work—not just on the external solution, but on the internal one.

I reminded myself: I have done all that is humanly possible in this moment. I’ve shown up. I’ve tried. I’ve trusted. And now, I leave it.

“What is for you is for you” took on a whole new meaning.

This isn’t about giving up. It’s about surrendering the illusion of control. It’s about choosing to learn from the moment rather than race to the end. Starting over will be hard. But I’m learning—daily—to accept what is, and to make decisions from that space.

Not from fear. Not from lack. But from truth.

Peace and Blessings

Affirmation: I learn, I share, I rise—with my sisters, for my sisters.

 I was invited to join the Global Me Too Movement in crafting a manifesto for Latin America and the Caribbean—one that centers survivors, demands justice, and imagines healing as both personal and political. We gathered in a circle of fierce tenderness, where truth was spoken, held, and honored.

To be part of this global moment—as the quiet one, the motif-maker, the dreamer of Nina-sized visions—was nothing short of miraculous. I showed up real, and real met me back. The pride and gratitude I felt were unmatched. It’s still sinking in.

But what moved me most was the camaraderie. The way we laughed, cried, translated across languages and lived experiences. I learned so much about Latin America’s passionate feminist principles—rooted in resistance, joy, and unwavering solidarity. These women, these grassroots organizations, continue to show up for their sisters with grit and grace, demanding justice and building support systems that are as radical as they are tender.

We spoke of boundaries and belonging, of joy as resistance, of turning our wild, rooted dreams into living, breathing change. And we did it together—with grace, grit, and a whole lot of love.

I left inspired. Committed to learn more. To share more. To dream even bigger.

This is what showing up real looks like. And I’m here for it.

Peace and Blessings

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Ready to trust yourself and move beyond doubt? Change is inevitable, but fear doesn’t have to hold you back. Through coaching, you’ll build the confidence to act, balance intuition with logic, and create a life aligned with your truth.

Let’s do this together. Book a session today  and step into your power!

http://www.akosuadardaineedwards.com

Affirmation: I honor the storm and the stillness. I choose presence over resistance, and trust the pivot.

I have been in Mexico for the past few days. It has been eye-opening. Not just for the beauty of the place, but for the depth of the gathering. I’m here among comrades of the cause—women who speak the same language of justice, healing, and fierce love. The room is full of those working to end gender-based and sexual violence, to support migrant women, girls in State care, and to dismantle inequality in all its forms.

There’s something sacred about being in a space where your truth doesn’t need translation. We’ve spent days exchanging ideas, building trust, and practicing self-care—which, let’s be honest, is the heartbeat of this movement. Without it, we burn out. With it, we rise.

Today, we were meant to convene on the beach. A meeting with the ocean as witness. But as we got ready, the storm came—thunder, lightning, the whole dramatic symphony. Talk about a pivot? We had no choice but to shift. And in that moment, I thought about life. About how storms come, and how often I get caught up in moaning about the disruption, missing the lesson. Missing the invitation to surrender. To accept what is.

So we gathered for breakfast instead. Disappointed, yes. We were looking forward to the salt air and the circle. But we chose to move. To adapt. And that choice—that quiet decision to shift rather than sulk—is what creates our future.

Because choice is power. Choice is presence. And in this movement, in this life, we are constantly choosing: to show up, to rest, to speak, to listen, to begin again.

Mexico reminded me of that. Storms will come. But so will the women. And when we gather, even in the rain, we build something unshakable.

Peace and Blessings

Affirmation:  Obedience to the Most High's guidance is a form of trust



Each month, I begin with an intention—a quiet compass I carry with me through the month. It’s not a resolution or a checklist, but a reminder of what I’m choosing to root into.
This November, my intention is to deepen my relationship with the Most High. To listen more closely. To trust more fully. And most of all, to cultivate the courage to be obedient to the guidance I receive.
I’ve noticed a pattern in myself: the guidance often comes clearly. A nudge. A knowing. A quiet instruction. And yet, I stall. I rationalize. I ask for proof. I want certainty that the outcome will match my expectations, that the leap will land exactly where I want it to. But guidance rarely works that way. It’s not a transaction—it’s a trust walk.
This month, I’m choosing to follow the guidance. Even when it stretches me. Even when it asks me to leave the comfort of what’s familiar. Even when I don’t know how it will all unfold. I’m choosing faith over fear. Obedience over overthinking. I’m choosing to remember that I can do hard things.
So here’s to November. To sacred nudges and brave yeses. To walking with the Most High—not just in prayer, but in practice. To the quiet power of obedience, and the joy that comes from alignment.Cheers to the journey.
Peace and Blessings

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Ready to trust yourself and move beyond doubt? Change is inevitable, but fear doesn’t have to hold you back. Through coaching, you’ll build the confidence to act, balance intuition with logic, and create a life aligned with your truth.

Let’s do this together. Book a session today  and step into your power!

http://www.akosuadardaineedwards.com

  Affirmation: I honour my balance, my breath, my becoming.

I was scrolling through Instagram the other day—half curious, half distracted—when a post by The Q School stopped me in my tracks. It said:
“People pleasing is controlling.Micromanaging is controlling.Being a workaholic is controlling.Constant dieting is controlling.”
Hmmm. I paused. Let it land.Because society rewards us for all of those things, doesn’t it?For being “nice.” For being thin. For working hard. For being meticulous.We get applause for the very habits that, when out of balance, become cages.And here we are.
Anything out of balance will fall down eventually. That’s not judgment—it’s gravity.
After sitting with it, I realized why it resonated so deeply.Control, in many forms, is a kind of self-protection.It’s the armor we learned to wear early—some of us before we even had words.Depending on our histories, our cultures, our families, we learned to stay safe by staying in control.
And over time, that armor became personality.It became the way we moved through the world.It became the way we were praised.
But here’s the thing:So many of us were shamed out of our natural expressions.Out of curiosity. Out of anger. Out of softness. Out of loudness.Out of femininity, masculinity, sexuality, creativity, tenderness.Out of being weird. Out of being quiet. Out of being vocal.So we learned to control what felt unsafe to express.We learned to shrink, to perfect, to overwork, to overthink.We learned to please, to perform, to plan every detail.And now, as grown folks trying to live rooted and whole, we’re being asked to unlearn
To release control where it’s no longer needed.To trust that we are safe now.To remind ourselves—gently, daily—that we are not in that situation anymore.Sometimes it’s a whisper:“You’re okay. You’re not back there. You’re here now.”Sometimes it’s a practice:A breath. A pause. A walk. A journal page. 
So today I ask myself—and maybe you too:What can I do to remind myself that I am safe?What helps me stay balanced when the old urge to control creeps in?Can I notice when I’m using control as a shield, even when there’s no danger?This isn’t about shame. It’s about awareness.It’s about grace.It’s about choosing presence over protection.Because safety isn’t just the absence of danger.It’s the presence of self.
Peace
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Ready to trust yourself and move beyond doubt? Change is inevitable, but fear doesn’t have to hold you back. Through coaching, you’ll build the confidence to act, balance intuition with logic, and create a life aligned with your truth.

Let’s do this together. Book a session today  and step into your power!

http://www.akosuadardaineedwards.com