In a recent conversation with Margaret Williams, MS, ACC, we talked about how often people move through life disconnected from themselves. Disconnected from their bodies. Disconnected from the signals that are constantly trying to get their attention. And how much chaos comes from that disconnection.
Because the body knows things before the mind does. It knows when something isn’t right. It knows when a situation isn’t safe. It knows when a relationship is off, even if nothing obvious has “happened” yet. Most of us were taught to override that knowing.
To be polite. To give the benefit of the doubt. To keep going even when we’re tired, uneasy, or quietly resistant.
Especially as Black women, we’re often conditioned to keep showing up, keep accommodating, keep proving ourselves — even when every part of us is saying no.
What I’ve learned over time is that listening doesn’t always mean acting immediately. Sometimes it means slowing down. Sometimes it means putting boundaries around an interaction and letting things reveal themselves. Sometimes it means pausing instead of rushing forward just because something looks good on paper or feels exciting in the moment.
There have been many times when I couldn’t logically explain why I didn’t want to be close to someone. I felt bad about it. I questioned myself. I tried to override it with reason. And then, months later, the reason became clear.
The information was always there. I just wasn’t ready to trust it yet.
That trust gets even harder when your nervous system has been trained to stay on high alert. When you grew up in environments where you had to be vigilant. When rest didn’t feel safe. When your body learned to brace instead of soften.
In those cases, listening isn’t intuitive — it’s a skill that has to be rebuilt.
That’s why things like rest, prayer, quiet mornings, eating, drinking water, logging off, and creating space aren’t small things. They’re foundational. You can’t hear yourself clearly when you’re depleted. You can’t make grounded decisions when you’re overwhelmed. You can’t discern truth when you’re constantly flooded with noise.
I’ve learned that if I ignore my body long enough, it stops trying to speak to me clearly. And when I start listening again, it doesn’t immediately trust me back. That trust has to be rebuilt through consistency and follow-through.
Listening also doesn’t mean never being wrong.
Sometimes I sit with what I’m sensing and ask for clarity. Sometimes I give a situation time. Sometimes I realize later that I misread something because a trigger got involved. That doesn’t mean the practice is flawed — it means I’m human.
What matters is the willingness to check in honestly instead of abandoning myself to keep the peace.
This kind of listening has changed how I think about boundaries. They’re not about punishment or cutting people off for sport. They’re about protecting what’s sacred. They’re about conserving energy. They’re about recognizing when repair is possible and when distance is necessary.
They’re about valuing time — because time is not infinite.
At this point in my life, I’m less interested in being right and more interested in being at peace. I’d rather move slowly and stay aligned than rush into situations that cost me my clarity.
Listening isn’t dramatic. It’s quiet. It’s subtle. And it asks for honesty — not perfection.
We don’t need more information. We need more presence.
And most of the answers we’re looking for are already speaking — through the body, through patterns, through what keeps repeating until we finally pay attention.
We just have to be willing to listen.
xoxo,
Empress Theadora
Thank you Lakeisha, High Priestess, Fat News Daily, Randolph Proksch, Millie Jones-Cowles, and many others for tuning into my live video with Margaret Williams, MS, ACC!
