Sweetness is Ancestral

Love Day: Why We Still Choose Sweetness

Love Day isn’t really about chocolate.

It’s about choosing sweetness when life has handed you bitter.

We romanticize roses and heart-shaped boxes, but the real miracle is this: after heartbreak, after betrayal, after exhaustion, after trying again when you swore you wouldn’t… we still reach for something sweet.

Why?

Because sweetness is rebellion.

Sweetness says: "I will not let pain make me hard.” I will not let disappointment make me bitter.” I will not let the world convince me that tenderness is weakness.”

A spoonful of honey. A slice of cake. A sugared berry. A slow sip of something warm.

Sweets remind us that life is meant to be tasted not just survived.

The Medicine of Sweetness

In many ancestral traditions, sweet is the flavor of restoration.

In Yoruba religion cosmology, honey is sacred an offering, a bridge between worlds, a way to call in harmony and favor. It is not just food. It is prayer made edible.

In Ayurveda, the sweet taste builds Ojas the essence of vitality, immunity, and spiritual glow. Sweet nourishes depleted tissues. It calms what has been overworked. Across the diaspora, molasses, cane juice, ripe fruit, and sweet breads were not luxuries. They were survival. They were reminders that even in oppression, our ancestors insisted on flavor. Sweetness has always been medicine.

When you’ve been stretched thin by life…When love has felt inconsistent…When you’ve had to be strong for too long…

Sweetness is not indulgence.

It is repair.

It tells the body:

“You are safe.”

“You are cared for.”

“You are allowed to soften.”

Calling the Ancestors to the Table

There is something sacred about placing sweets on the table with intention.

A bowl of fruit. A drizzle of honey. A slice of something baked slowly.

Before you taste it, pause. Whisper thank you. Call the names of those who loved you into existence. Offer the first bite energetically to those who made it possible for you to be here. Our ancestors survived things that could have made them bitter beyond measure. Yet they sang. They seasoned their food. They sweetened their tea. They fell in love. They made babies. They laughed loudly. Choosing sweetness today is an act of honoring them.

It says:

“I carry your resilience.”

“I carry your softness.”

“I refuse to let the lineage end in hardness.”

The Bitter Makes the Sweet Sacred

image credit: unknown

Here’s the truth without challenge, sweetness would mean nothing.

We know sweetness because we have known salt tears. We appreciate devotion because we have felt abandonment. We honor gratitude because we have walked through lack.

So, Love Day or many of you may know it as Valentine's Day, isn’t just about celebrating romantic love. It’s about celebrating the fact that your heart is still open. That you still believe in something soft. That you still crave sweetness instead of settling for numbness. Lately, I’ve been navigating choppy waters. It has not been light. It has not been easy. There have been moments where the bitter felt louder than the sweet.

And still I have been intentional. I keep honey near me. Sometimes it’s a literal spoonful. Sometimes I carry a small jar in my pocket like a quiet reminder. Honey has become my anchor. Each taste, each touch, is a decision: I will not let challenge harden me. I will not let difficulty steal my softness. Even in the bitter, I choose sweetness.

It is a small ritual, but it keeps me aware. It keeps me grateful. It keeps me from forgetting who I am.

Gratitude is the Sweetest Flavor

Gratitude turns ordinary love into something sacred.

Grateful for the people who stayed. Grateful for the lessons from those who didn’t. Be grateful for your own resilience. Grateful that you can still feel.

I want to remind you that Love Day is every day, Honor it let sweetness be intentional.

Not performative. Not forced. Not desperate.

But chosen. Bake something. Share something. Taste something slowly. Say thank you, mean it.

Because sweetness is not weakness.

It is power with tenderness. It is strength with grace. It is ancestral memory in your mouth. It is love that has survived.

And that kind of love?

That’s worth savoring.

Now let me challenge you gently.

What sweet are you offering today? And who are you remembering and thanking by name?

May we continue to celebrate our Black heritage beyond February let it be a ritual daily. We give thanks. I want to personally honor my ancestors and those who have come before us.

Beyond February: A Daily Ritual of Remembrance

May we continue to celebrate our Black heritage beyond February. Let it not be a month. Let it be a rhythm. A rhythm in how we season our food. In how we braid our children’s hair. In how we protect our joy. In how we refuse to shrink. We give thanks not because history was gentle but because we are still here. We honor the brilliance that survived ships and chains. We honor the hands that picked, cooked, stitched, healed, prayed, and built. We honor the ones whose names were erased but whose blood remembers.

Today, I personally bow to my ancestors and those who have come before me.

To the known and the unknown. To the soft and the fierce. To the healers, the rebels, the lovers, the visionaries. Your resilience lives in my spine. Your prayers echo in my breath. Your sweetness lives on my tongue. May I walk in a way that makes you proud. May I build in a way that creates abundance. May I love in a way that heals forward.

This is not seasonal pride. This is daily devotion.

We give thanks. Always.

This past week our Angel on earth gained her wings in Heaven.

This one is for you Big Ren.

ecclesiastes 3:4

There is a time for everything. a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,

Rest in heavenly peace, my sister in love, Larenda Roach. We celebrate you as you dance. Ìbà Òrun. May your journey among the ancestors be peaceful.

I will miss you so much. The sister God blessed me with and the blessing of you being called Auntie Renny. I am so happy and so grateful our connection was calculated into the journey. As I process and do this dance with grief and the tears fall, I give thanks to our Creator for the blessing of experiencing you in this lifetime. Your presence in my life was not accidental. Your laughter, your love, your support, your realness, your spirit marked us. May your name continue to be spoken. May your stories be told, may your hugs be remembered and be comfort received when needed. May the memories we created together remain alive in our daily walk. As we journey forward, we carry you with us in how we love, in how we show up, in how we choose joy even when it feels hard. Your light does not end here. It lives on in all of us who were touched by you. I sit in gratitude for your love as the offering.

We give thanks. Always.