What “Woke” Means to Me

The word “woke” has become a weapon.

It gets tossed like an insult.
 Like shorthand for “too much,” “too aware,” “too political,” “too sensitive.”

But here is what it means to me.

Woke means I remember.

I remember what it felt like when my no didn’t matter.
 I remember what dismissal feels like in the body.
 I remember what it costs to reclaim your voice after it has been taken.

Woke means I pay attention.

To consent.
 To autonomy.
 To power dynamics in rooms.
 To who is speaking and who is being spoken over.
 To how language can erase or restore.

It does not mean I hate anyone.
 It does not mean I want control.
 It does not mean I am fragile.

It means I am not sleepwalking through harm.

If awareness makes someone uncomfortable, that discomfort does not belong to me.

When someone uses “woke” as a slur, what they are often reacting to is this:

I do not shrink anymore.
 I do not volunteer my silence.
 I do not pretend not to see what I see.

Awareness is not aggression.

It is clarity.

Clarity about my history.
 Clarity about my sovereignty.
 Clarity about the cost of pretending not to notice.

To me, woke means awake in my own body.

Awake to where I give access.
 Awake to where I withdraw.
 Awake to who I am — without apology.

And once you wake up to yourself,
 you cannot go back to sleep.

The next track is my song, “What ‘Woke’ Means to Me.”

This piece carries the fire and the steadiness of that awareness — not as argument, but as embodiment.

Let it speak where explanation ends.

The opening moments of this episode include a short excerpt from Regulation Before Release.

This excerpt is offered as orientation and stabilization before the main content begins. It is not an exercise and does not ask the listener to relax, process, or change anything. The sound is shared as structure—something steady that can be present while the nervous system settles at its own pace.

Regulation Before Release was created for moments when grounding and co

The opening minutes of this episode feature an excerpt from Nothing Is Required of You, a listening piece that anchors the tone and ethics of this podcast.

This excerpt is offered as orientation—not instruction. There is no exercise to follow, no breath to control, and no expectation to relax, heal, or change. The sound is shared as presence—something that can be nearby without asking anything of the listener.

Nothing Is Required of You was created for nervou