There is a particular kind of ache that comes with being a descendant of enslaved Africans living in Canada, an ache that lives in the in-between. In-between cultures. In-between spiritualities. In-between what was taken and what we’re trying to rebuild. The holidays often bring that ache to the surface in a way that feels tender, confusing, and deeply human.
As a trauma therapist, I hear this story often. And as a Black person living the legacy of displacement, forced religion, and disrupted lineage, I feel it too.
The Weight of a Legacy You Didn’t Choose
When your ancestors were stolen, so were their languages, cosmologies, songs, rituals, and ways of being in community. Christianity was not simply offered, in many cases, it was imposed, enforced, and weaponized. For many of us, Christianity still brings comfort. It’s the church choir, the aunties in white hats, the stories that raised us. And yet there is a part of us that wonders:
What would my spiritual life look like if my ancestors had been allowed to keep theirs?
What traditions would I know?
What rituals would live in my body?
Are those ancestral practices still living in me?
Living in the in-between means holding both the gratitude for what sustained your family and the grief for what they never got to pass down.
The Holidays Can Make the In-Between Louder
The holiday season, filled with Christmas songs, lights, and familiar traditions, can stir questions you don’t always have space to ask during the rest of the year.
Maybe you love the glow of lights on a cold Canadian night. Maybe the harmonies of Christmas music feels warm inside. Maybe gathering with family or friends brings a sense of belonging.
And maybe, at the same time, you feel a tension in your body. A pull toward something older. A longing for rituals that feel like they belonged to your people long before the church pews and Nativity plays. A feeling of being out of place in traditions that aren’t fully yours, even though they shaped your childhood.
This is the in-between, loving parts of Christmas while questioning its roots, its impact, and the way it replaced so much of what was taken.
The Grief & Anger of Not Knowing Where to Begin
For many descendants of enslaved Africans, reclaiming ancestral practices can feel overwhelming. We know something is missing, but we don’t always know its name. We feel the pull toward African spiritualities, but we don’t know where to start without feeling like we’re doing it “wrong.” We feel a longing for rituals our ancestors practiced, but we don’t know the specifics because they were systematically erased.
As a trauma therapist, I want to name this truth clearly:
You are not lacking. You were interrupted. You were violated.
The grief you feel is not personal failure. It is a historical injury. And your longing is a sign of ancestral memory trying to find its way home.
Living in the In-Between Is Still Living
Sometimes the work is not about choosing one side or the other, but learning how to exist gently in the middle. It’s okay if you still enjoy Christmas lights. It’s okay if certain songs feel sacred even if their history is complicated. It’s okay if you hold onto some traditions while letting others go. Healing does not demand purity. It invites integration.
You can honour your ancestors in small, meaningful ways even if you don’t know every detail of their practices:
• Light a candle and speak their names
• Play rhythms that awaken something ancient in you
• Say a prayer that begins with “To those who came before me…”
• Rest because they could not
• Cook foods that feel grounding
• Create a personal ritual with intention, even if it’s imperfect
Reclamation can be slow. It can be intuitive. It can be built one gesture at a time.
You Are Not Alone in This Struggle
Many Black people across the diaspora live in this in-between. The sense of disconnection is real, but so is the possibility of reconstruction. You don’t have to know everything in order to begin. You don’t need to perform Africanness or spirituality in a specific way. You are already the continuation of your ancestors’ practices simply by being here.
Your body carries memories even your mind was never taught.
A Final Word
Living in the in-between is not a flaw, it is a location. A place shaped by history, by survival, by resilience, by loss, and by the ongoing work of remembering. It is okay if you feel conflicted. It is okay if your holiday season includes both Christmas hymns and ancestral longing.
Therapist Near You
Melissa Taylor, MSW, RSW
Toronto. Hamilton Ontario
Virtual & In person session