IG icon and writer Zeba Blay is bringing joy and hard-hitting pop culture critiques to the next-gen.
– KEYS SOULCARE
As a critic, creator, storyteller, and author, Zeba Blay continues to leave her mark with her voice — and inspiring others to do the same. Her undeniable wit (and beyond-her-years-wisdom) garnered her not only a loyal audience, but a much-anticipated and newly released book, Carefree Black Girls, which is titled after the viral Twitter term she helped coin.
We chatted with the HuffPost senior culture writer and self-described “person who thinks and feels a lot” on how to embrace creativity and practice critical thinking — even informally — in our everyday lives.
Your work blends elements of joy, pop culture, and social critique — why and how do you do it?
I think what I’m here on this earth to do is to tell stories that show the complexity of being a feeling person.
I often felt like — or was made to feel like — I could not have a critical eye that included any of my experience. I was denying parts of myself that [depicted] a Black, immigrant female [who deals] with mental illness. I was in an industry that was [predominantly] white, male, and so obsessed with pretending like those things don’t have any bearing on how we experience art.
How did you find your voice?
I found my voice as a writer when I was writing about Black women in pop culture and initially was supposed to have a very removed appraisal of all of these different, amazing women. But how can I write about Josephine Baker without writing about what she means to me? How can I write about a scary space without writing about what an integral part it played in my coming of age? The only way that I can really write about art or anything is to mix in my story.
Sometimes I feel like I should feel bad about it, but it’s very important for me to really be constantly contemplating the way I feel and how much of it comes from what the culture has given to me. I’m really interested in that dance and conversation.
What helps keep you accountable to that process for yourself?
I think accountability is really important when we talk about things like cancel culture and what cancel culture really is: accountability. We’re not talking about sending someone off into exile: we’re talking about asking somebody to hold themselves accountable. I find the balance by constantly questioning my own biases through examining how I feel about different figures. Ultimately, it leads to a much richer conversation because, at the end of the day, I need to be able to love something and still struggle with it.
In what ways has your work made you think more deeply about soulcare and what it means to you?
I think with empathy. Over my career, I’ve written a lot about representation and what that means. And I think a lot of times, people look at representation as some sort of empathy machine — like this is the thing that’s going to make people care. I don’t necessarily think that’s what representation is for. You either can empathize or you can’t.
I’m able to empathize with other people, but not with myself. There’s a chapter in my book about Lizzo and all the things that are projected onto her body that she doesn’t ask for — like fatphobia and anti-Blackness — and the damage on the self-esteem of Black women. I came to this understanding that I can have so much empathy and understanding and give so much grace to other fat Black women who are struggling with these things. And yet, I can look in the mirror and feel none of that.
And why is that? I’m still trying to figure it out, but if we could look at ourselves the way that we look at other people, imagine how much richer our connections would be? It’s a journey, but I think that self-empathy is something that we don’t talk about enough.
Do you feel that the culture we’re living in is shifting more toward an introspective, reflective place?
I think that we all have to do our due diligence to understand that this path is not a static one; it’s not Instagram, it’s not about optics. Every day is different, and everyday we’re changing.
For example, I deal with depression and anxiety. I have since I was 10, and I’m now 32. I’m going to deal with this until the day that I die. There was a time in my life when I thought, “I won’t anymore. And then I’ll have happiness.” I feel like I grew up in a society telling me that happiness should be your baseline emotion — and when I couldn’t get to happiness, I felt alienated from my life and from the world. The obsession with “happiness” is dangerous because this is my life, the one that I’m fully living now. I think that’s a much healthier and holistic way of looking at the journey of healing; by looking at it as this thing that ebbs and flows rather than this destination that you’re trying to get to.
So yes, there is more introspection and growth happening [in the world]. I just remind myself that there’s also no end to that “path” we’re all on, you know?
Self-empathy is soulcare. How can you show yourself more compassion this week? Share in the comments.
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