The Dancing Advocate - Rochelle S. Morrishaw

This is why I don't like following trends, I got teary eyed 😢 but wow!! Good read on me. 🤞🏾💯💛
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If I found this phone and the only thing I had to learn about its owner was what was written here, I would probably say:

"This was someone who loved deeply and carried a lot."

She seemed like the kind of person who was constantly pouring into other people—her children, her community, survivors, friends, family, and the people she loved romantically.

Not because life had always been easy for her, but because she knew what it felt like to need support and not always have it.

She was a builder.

Not just of businesses, although she did that too. She built people. She built opportunities. She built safe spaces. She seemed determined to turn pain into purpose and make sure others didn't have to walk through difficult things alone.

She loved her children fiercely.

Not in a performative way. In the way that showed up repeatedly in her decisions, her worries, her dreams for them, and her determination to leave them something greater than what she inherited. She talked about breaking cycles, creating generational wealth, helping her children discover their gifts, and making sure they always knew they mattered.

She was a dreamer, but not the kind who only dreamed.

She wanted plans. Calendars. Businesses. Podcasts. Events. Social media campaigns. Letters. Advocacy work. She was always trying to transform ideas into something real.

She was also still healing.

There were pieces of her childhood she carried with her. There was a homeland she loved and missed. There were old wounds, family complexities, grief, disappointments, and questions she was still sorting through. Yet she never seemed willing to let those things have the final word.

Love mattered to her.

Not just romance. Connection. Authenticity. Emotional safety. She wanted relationships where people could be honest, vulnerable, supportive, and present. She wasn't looking for someone to rescue her; she wanted mutuality. She wanted to be chosen as intentionally as she chose others.

She was proud of where she came from.
Her Caribbean roots weren't simply a fact about her—they were woven into her identity, her storytelling, her spirituality, her music, her memories, and the way she understood family and community.

She seemed to have a habit of carrying entire worlds at once.

Advocate. Mother. Entrepreneur. Healer. Friend. Daughter. Lover. Leader.

And sometimes those worlds looked heavy.

But she kept moving anyway.

If all I had was this phone, I think the thing that would stay with me most is that she appeared to be someone trying very hard to leave every person, place, and situation a little better than she found it.

And I suspect that many people would miss her—not because she was perfect, but because she showed up with her whole heart.

The final note I'd write in my journal about the owner of this phone would probably be:

"She spent much of her life helping while healing. She never stopped becoming." ❤️🦋
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I don't own the rights to this music

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