For many African women, rest has never been simple. It comes with guilt, whispers, suspicion, and explanations. We were raised to believe that movement equals responsibility, and stillness equals laziness. So even when our bodies are begging us to slow down, a small voice inside says, “Stand up. Try again.
There are moments in a woman’s life when everything seems to slow down, not by choice, but by force. Plans drag. Doors refuse to open. Strength disappears. Motivation fades. And you’re left wondering: “God, why does it feel like everything in my life is on pause?” I used
Some homes raise you with tenderness. Some raise you with tension. And some raise you with sound, the kind that stays in your body long after you’ve moved out. For many African women, our earliest memories are tied to noise: the shouting, the arguments, the quick temper, the silence
There’s a special kind of tiredness that responsible daughters carry. It’s not the kind that sleep fixes. It’s the deep, silent exhaustion that comes from being the one everyone depends on. If you grew up as the girl who always had to “hold things together,” you’ll
There are seasons where your body speaks long before you find the courage to admit what’s really going on inside. This year was one of those seasons for me. I didn’t realise how much I was carrying until my body started whispering the things my mouth refused to
Many African women grew up believing that silence is safer than honesty and that shrinking is better than shining. We were taught to survive, not to be seen. Visibility often came with judgment, comparison, or emotional risk. So we hid the brightest parts of ourselves to avoid trouble, criticism, or
Stress can make even the strongest woman forget who she is. It scatters the mind, tenses the body, and silences intuition. But nature, in her quiet wisdom, gave us plants that speak peace to our nerves. When I began my healing journey, I didn’t start with complicated formulas, I
For years, I thought my quietness was weakness. I mistook hiding for humility. But what I was really protecting wasn’t my peace, it was my pain. So many women shrink, not because they lack potential, but because they fear being misunderstood. Somewhere between childhood and womanhood, we learned that
There’s a power the world often overlooks, the quiet kind. It’s the power that doesn’t shout, doesn’t compete, doesn’t demand to be noticed. It simply is. I’ve learned that the most grounded women I’ve ever met weren’t the loudest in the room.
There was a time I thought being busy meant being useful. That constant movement was proof of purpose. But the more I ran, the more my body whispered, “Please stop.” Stillness isn’t laziness, it’s the space where healing begins. When you pause, your nervous system recalibrates, your hormones
We often talk about emotional and mental clutter, but few of us realise how much physical clutter and chemical buildup our bodies are quietly carrying too. As women, our homes are often an extension of our hearts. Yet, without even knowing, we fill them with invisible stressors that whisper against
Our grandmothers didn’t need supplements or pre-packaged seasonings. They understood that healing started in the kitchen, not the clinic. Every leaf they picked, every herb they crushed between their palms carried a prayer for health, strength, and balance. They knew herbs weren’t just for flavour; they were the
There’s a reason our ancestors didn’t rush to clinics for every ache or illness, they turned to their gardens, kitchens, and herbs. They knew something we’re only now beginning to rediscover: healing begins with food. For centuries, women gathered around pots of simmering broth, freshly ground herbs,
A journey of rest, resistance, and reclaiming balance. There was a time I didn’t know what stillness meant. My days were a blur of doing, caring for others, chasing goals, and holding everything together. Even when I rested, my mind was running. My body whispered that something was wrong:
There’s a reason our grandmothers believed that healing started in the kitchen, not the clinic. They knew that food, herbs, and rest were sacred forms of medicine. They didn’t rush healing. They lived it. But somewhere along the line, many of us forgot. We became too busy surviving,
Stillness & Rest
TeeOasis is a wellness sanctuary for African women who are tired, strong, and ready to heal. Here, we talk about stillness, emotional healing, herbal wisdom, and finding your rhythm again. Each story, post, and product is created to help you rest, rise, and remember who you are. 🌱 Start by joining