{"id":5666,"date":"2025-10-12T10:47:47","date_gmt":"2025-10-12T10:47:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/findingmyplanb.com\/?p=5666"},"modified":"2025-10-12T10:47:51","modified_gmt":"2025-10-12T10:47:51","slug":"from-invisible-wounds-to-shared-belonging-reflections-from-the-baatn-conference","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/findingmyplanb.com\/?p=5666","title":{"rendered":"From Invisible Wounds to Shared Belonging: Reflections from the BAATN Conference"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The Weight of the Room<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Yesterday, I had the honour of being one of three keynote speakers at the BAATN Conference, where the theme was belonging. I went in wondering whether I\u2019d pitched my talk in the right way. What unfolded left me wishing for more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What began as a talk became a collective moment of grief, truth-telling, and connection, something I\u2019m still carrying in my body today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My talk, From the Invisible Wounds of Childlessness to Finding Where We Belong, explored how childlessness intersects with race, identity, and the deep human need to belong. I thought I knew what it would feel like to deliver those words. I\u2019ve spoken about this many times before. But something about this space was different.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I spoke about the silenced grief of women without children, and the historical and social weight we carry as Black women, I felt a tide of emotion rising from the group. It wasn\u2019t just my story anymore; it was our story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At one point, I found myself holding onto my tears. I could feel the collective grief sitting in the room like a heartbeat. It made me want to cry not from sadness but from the recognition of being seen and seeing others. Belonging often begins in the places where we\u2019ve been made to feel invisible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A Space That Filled Itself<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Before the session began, I found myself wondering if I\u2019d pitched my talk right. This wasn\u2019t my usual audience. They were therapists, and I found myself asking if I should have made it more theoretical.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From my nervous energy came an unexpected wave of openness. What began with my tentative nerves soon grew into a rich, overflowing dialogue. I went from wondering \u201chow will I fill the time?\u201d to \u201cWe now have to end this conversation?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The reflections were powerful. Someone shared, \u201cThis gave me other things to think about especially how this shows up in the workplace.\u201d Another asked, \u201cHow do we find belonging and protect ourselves when we\u2019re in white spaces, under the white gaze?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We spoke about longing the ache for connection, the exhaustion of always being on the outside, and the tenderness of being in a space where you don\u2019t have to perform to be understood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Breaking Free from the Prescription of Life<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

In the breakout session after lunch, we spoke about the prescription of life ; that silent script we\u2019re all expected to follow: education, relationship, marriage, children.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We asked: When do we follow it, and when do we break free? Especially when you do everything \u201cright\u201d and still don\u2019t get the baby.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Someone reflected that they\u2019d \u201cspent most of their life living behind the walls of family,\u201d and I could feel the weight of those words as they were shared within the group.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Themes of being heard, holding boundaries, and reclaiming our humanity within systems that often dehumanise us wove through the space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We explored our ancestral memory and the histories of our enslaved foremothers who had no agency over their own bodies. We explored what it means to show up, fully human, in spaces that were never built for our belonging.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Belonging Beyond Biology<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

A particularly moving moment came when the discussion turned to bloodlines. Someone reflected on being an only child without children, and the realisation that their bloodline ends with them. It opened a powerful conversation about legacy, about whether belonging has to be biological.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We recognised that you don\u2019t need to pass on your DNA to nurture or to leave your mark. My own grief work has shown me that I can \u201cparent\u201d in other ways by holding space for my friends, godchildren, and even my parents in ways that those more entangled in their stories sometimes can\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My experiences have given me a different kind of sight one rooted in compassion and perspective and love. As a friend told me at the beginning of my grief journey \u201cThere are many ways to mother\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The realisation brought a quiet, collective exhale and a deep sense of validation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Gift of Being Seen<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Throughout the session, women spoke with honesty about their shame, loss, and longing to belong. One woman said, \u201cJust hearing you speak gives me permission to own my story.\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That moment stayed reminded me why I do this work, why I stand up and tell stories that were once too painful to name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holding space for these conversations isn\u2019t easy, but it\u2019s sacred. Healing begins not because we fix each other (like so many other want to do), but because we witness each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the session drew to a close, there was so much gratitude. Gratitude for being able to name what\u2019s often silenced. Gratitude for the courage it takes to say<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018me too\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Belonging isn\u2019t something handed down by society. It\u2019s something we build together in our honesty, in our stories, and in the ways we hold space for one another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Closing Reflection<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

As the conference came to a close, I was left with the thought that maybe belonging isn\u2019t about being part of a club after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe it\u2019s about finding spaces where we no longer have to shrink, explain, or hide. Spaces where our invisible wounds are witnessed, and our humanity is seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me, that\u2019s what yesterday was a reminder that even in the ache of childlessness, there is connection. Even in grief, there is belonging. And when one woman speaks her truth, she gives others permission to find theirs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Invitation to Speak<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

If you\u2019d like me to bring this conversation to your workplace, organisation, or event, I\u2019d be honoured to hold that space with you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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