Deun Ivory commands a room.
Itâs not just her tall, elegant frame, which today is hugged by a light grey dress. Itâs not just her hair, which billows around her shoulders. Itâs not just her eyes, which are big and bright and currently accentuated with a swish of vibrant blue liner. I mean, it is all of these things, but thatâs not the heart of it.
Ivory commands a room because of her energy. Sheâs confident and warm, quick-witted and passionate. Sheâs powerful yet vulnerable. She could be in a sweatsuit and sheâd still make everyone turn and listen.
And listening is key here, because her message needs to be heard. Ivory is the founder of the body: a home for love, an organization she created in 2019 to help Black women heal from sexual trauma through community-based events, conversations, and initiatives. As a survivor herselfâshe was molested by her stepfatherâIvory knows this journey well, and is on a mission to change the narrative around Black women and abuse.
Today sheâs hosting the bodyâs first in-person event, at Lunya in Santa Monica (it should be noted that this is at the start of March, when the coronavirus pandemic is still a distant siren in North America). Sheâs given a speech, sheâs posed for photographs, sheâs hugged attendees. Sheâs maybe, though I doubt it, taken a quick moment to bask in the fruits of her hard work as the room expands with the voices of happy womenâall of whom want to chat with her, to thank her, to get a few moments in the rays of her sun. I get it. Sheâs magnetic.
âItâs giving Black women a voice to share their narratives around sexual abuse without being met with judgement,â Ivory explains of her organization. âA lot of times when we share what weâve gone through, weâre not validated, weâre not affirmed, and people rarely see us as innocent.â Weâre standing amongst some boxes and desks behind a curtain, in the makeshift preparation area of the event; itâs the only place she can speak for a few moments without being interrupted (see aforementioned magnetism). âAnd because weâre hypersexualized at a very young age, we essentially learn to detach from our bodies at a young age,â Ivory, who is an accomplished photographer, illustrator, and designer, continues. âSo we donât know what itâs like to be at home in our bodies. Thatâs something that I dealt with as a young girl being molested by my stepfather: I just felt like, âOh, my body isnât mine. Itâs for the male gaze.â So journeying back here was something that was so crucial to me gaining my voice back.â
The road back to her body was challenging. It took work to learn how to put herself first. âI think that when you struggle with detachment itâs not easy to seek pleasure, to even feel worthy of pleasure, or to even attempt pleasure,â she explains. âYouâre just so disconnected all the time; you just disassociate from your body. So for me, I think that journeying back was really about listening to my body, which is something that I had never done before. So being aware of, if Iâm around someone and if I feel a certain type of way, being strong enough to say, âDeun, remove yourself from this. You donât have to stay here.â I think I used to feel obligated all the time to be around men who made me uncomfortable because I didnât want them to feel awkward. But now itâs like: I am my priority. Self-care is not a last resort, and I matter.â
That simple yet revolutionary ideaâthat every Black woman mattersâis at the heart of the body. Through projects and events (which have gone fully digital during the coronavirus pandemic) revolving around art, wellness, and storytelling, the body is breaking down the walls that stop Black women from true healing. Having conversations about abuse, survival, recovery, and even existence can be acts of protest against the status quo. Itâs through conversation and community that people learn theyâre not alone; after that comes empowerment, which is where the shift really starts.
Of course, change doesnât happen overnight, and the body shouldnât have to do this work alone. Ivory is quick to acknowledge that âwe need allies and supporters to help us do what we do. Redistributing the wealth is essential to what weâre doing.â (At vitruvi, we are proud to do our small part as an ongoing partner of the body; read more about that here.) When it comes to being an active and effective ally to Black women, Ivory highlights the importance of âactually doing the uncomfortable work: sitting with the stories,â she explains. âSitting in the discomfort. Because itâs not about you at that momentâitâs truly about the other person. So thatâs a way to serve people: just by being there and offering a safe space for people to be themselves and for them to feel like, âOh, youâre a warm spirit that I can talk to. Yes, we donât look alike, but we have a common goal.ââ
Ivory mentions that many marginalized people are always in survivor mode, never able to dream outside of their current realities. She wants to change that, and it has become a driving force behind her work ethic, which is tireless. Itâs why her events have quality wine and the best diffusers and beautiful branding. Because Black women have a right to these things as much as anyone else, and because healing should not be about giving survivors the bare minimum. Wellness shouldnât have a barrier to entry.
As for her own wellness, Ivory keeps it simple. âGirl, I work out. I try to stay snatched,â she says to me, snapping her fingers. âWhen Iâm at the gym, I ainât think about nothing, I ainât think about nobody but me. So doing that, and prayer and meditation in the morning.â
Those moments of self-care keep Ivory centred. But what keeps her fire alive is her service to Black women, and the belief that they can move forward with, through, and beyond their pain. âHealing through joy is possible. Iâve never heard that, especially when dealing with sexual trauma. Itâs isolating, itâs daunting, itâs triggering,â she says. âBut healing through joy is becoming a real thing. For me, I didnât even know it was possibleâso seeing Black women receive everything that Iâve wanted them to receive, Iâm like, âDaangggg, this is truly divine. This is truly divine.ââ