Growing

Of color,
in a place that didn’t know how to hold that.

I was beautiful —
but I didn’t know myself.

A Black mother. A White father.

I was built from two worlds.

It was good.
It was difficult.
It was mine.

These bags I design
They’re not just denim and thread...

They’re
Memory. Shaped.

Wounds and love —
stitched side by side.

I pour both my parents into every design.
The difference I carry with pride.

Because I no longer need to be told who I am.
I create it.
I wear it.
I design it.

I am both.
I am all.
And I am…
Mine.

RAAVU 

xx