Khadija A Tudor
Khadija A Tudor
Flow Instead of Balance
Instead of chasing the elusive work-life balance, Khadija A Tudor, founder of Life Wellness Center in Bedstuy, prioritizes flow. It wasn’t always the case, but after years of trial and error, she’s found that this approach is not only more realistic, but gentler. At the age of 40, Khadija took an existential look at her surroundings. She had been working at the Department of Transportation for four years and the drive she once had was nowhere to be found. She thought to herself, “I want to do more,” and took the small step of booking a yoga class.
At this yoga class, something unplaceable happened that made her feel, as she put it, free.
“I loved the way the yoga teachers were able to engage with everyone who was there, putting their hands on people’s backs and encouraging them. I considered becoming a yoga teacher but with a blended family of eight, I just didn’t think I had the time.”
While waiting for a friend at the Swedish Institute, she overheard a lecture and noted she was familiar with most of the material being covered. Her husband, Ade, a Swedish Institute alum, had been a masseuse and acupuncturist for years by that point. Naturally, Khadija had picked up some of his savoir-faire throughout their relationship. After being convinced by her friend to apply, she took a trip to the admissions office, and a week later, was sitting in class.
Flow Instead of Balance
Instead of chasing the elusive work-life balance, Khadija A Tudor, founder of Life Wellness Center in Bedstuy, prioritizes flow. It wasn’t always the case, but after years of trial and error, she’s found that this approach is not only more realistic, but gentler. At the age of 40, Khadija took an existential look at her surroundings. She had been working at the Department of Transportation for four years and the drive she once had was nowhere to be found. She thought to herself, “I want to do more,” and took the small step of booking a yoga class.
At this yoga class, something unplaceable happened that made her feel, as she put it, free.
“I loved the way the yoga teachers were able to engage with everyone who was there, putting their hands on people’s backs and encouraging them. I considered becoming a yoga teacher but with a blended family of eight, I just didn’t think I had the time.” While waiting for a friend at the Swedish Institute, she overheard a lecture and noted she was familiar with most of the material being covered. Her husband, Ade, a Swedish Institute alum, had been a masseuse and acupuncturist for years by that point. Naturally, Khadija had picked up some of his savoir-faire throughout their relationship. After being convinced by her friend to apply, she took a trip to the admissions office, and a week later, was sitting in class.
While waiting for a friend at the Swedish Institute, she overheard a lecture and noted she was familiar with most of the material being covered. Her husband, Ade, a Swedish Institute alum, had been a masseuse and acupuncturist for years by that point. Naturally, Khadija had picked up some of his savoir-faire throughout their relationship. After being convinced by her friend to apply, she took a trip to the admissions office, and a week later, was sitting in class.
“If I see you that way, with love, I must let your grief into my heart, your story into my heart, I must stand up for you when you’re in harm’s way. What happens when we see George Floyd as our brother, or Breonna as a sister, migrant children as our own sons and daughters—what would we risk?”
“It was science science,” Khadija laughed. “A lot of anatomy, physiology, and neurology. And, you know, learning about the body-spirit connection. But definitely a lot of science, which I had always told myself I wasn't good at. I had to conquer that fear and eventually I did.”
While she didn’t know what her studies would lead to, she felt like she was on the right path. After years of being consumed by a job that didn’t inspire her, Khadija’s trajectory shifted to one of pursuing what fulfilled her even if those pursuits felt intimidating. Post-graduation, she was working at chiropractic offices doing massage and noticed a certain type of exhaustion amongst her female clients: they weren’t on their own priority lists.
“Women helping women starts from you helping yourself. We learn along our lives that we are supposed to push through pain, ignore it, and keep working. I have clients come in with back pain, I’ll ask them how long they’ve had it, and they’ll say, ‘Not long,’ and it turns out to be two years—which is too long. As women, we tend to neglect ourselves. When we do pay attention to our needs, there’s this low-grade fever of guilt and I rebuke that. I rebuke the concept that I'm supposed to live in any kind of pain emotionally, spiritually, or physically. I don’t even like tight shoes!”
“It was science science,” Khadija laughed. “A lot of anatomy, physiology, and neurology. And, you know, learning about the body-spirit connection. But definitely a lot of science, which I had always told myself I wasn't good at. I had to conquer that fear and eventually I did.”
While she didn’t know what her studies would lead to, she felt like she was on the right path. After years of being consumed by a job that didn’t inspire her, Khadija’s trajectory shifted to one of pursuing what fulfilled her even if those pursuits felt intimidating. Post-graduation, she was working at chiropractic offices doing massage and noticed a certain type of exhaustion amongst her female clients: they weren’t on their own priority lists.
“Women helping women starts from you helping yourself. We learn along our lives that we are supposed to push through pain, ignore it, and keep working. I have clients come in with back pain, I’ll ask them how long they’ve had it, and they’ll say, ‘Not long,’ and it turns out to be two years—which is too long. As women, we tend to neglect ourselves. When we do pay attention to our needs, there’s this low-grade fever of guilt and I rebuke that. I rebuke the concept that I'm supposed to live in any kind of pain emotionally, spiritually, or physically. I don’t even like tight shoes!”
Taking her observations and a sense of mission, she started the Khadija Hands Project which empowered women to make themselves their own project. It encouraged them to take time for their passions, hobbies, and self-care. “I have a lot of children, so I always felt this need to find balance until I realized ‘balance’ was impossible. Then, I just tried to flow. I’d say, ‘Okay, what can you do for yourself even if you don't have a lot of money or a lot of time?’ I can take a bath, I can exercise, I can sit for a moment and breathe and be conscious about what's happening in my body. Once I‘ve taken care of myself, then I can show up for others.”
Taking her observations and a sense of mission, she started the Khadija Hands Project which empowered women to make themselves their own project. It encouraged them to take time for their passions, hobbies, and self-care. “I have a lot of children, so I always felt this need to find balance until I realized ‘balance’ was impossible. Then, I just tried to flow. I’d say, ‘Okay, what can you do for yourself even if you don't have a lot of money or a lot of time?’ I can take a bath, I can exercise, I can sit for a moment and breathe and be conscious about what's happening in my body. Once I‘ve taken care of myself, then I can show up for others.”
This idea of summoning ancestors is more accessible than one would think. Valarie channels the energy of her grandfather, a biological ancestor, but she also sits at the feet of Black thinkers like Dr. King, James Baldwin, Audre Lorde, and bell hooks.
A couple of years after starting the Khadija Hands Project, she began to think about opening a center for massage, acupuncture, and wellness. Having been born in Flatbush and a resident of Bedstuy for twenty years, she was hoping for something with a neighborhood feel, a space that felt like home. While sitting with her baby at the local coffee shop, writing notes, and sipping coffee, she ran into Tremaine Wright, a former representative for Bedstuy.
“Tremaine Wright was the chairperson for the district and she owned the space. I remember her talking to me about rent, commercial rent, and being like ‘Oh my god, commercial rent?’ but I told myself to ask for what I wanted. So I did, and she gave us the chance to build our dream.” What’s touching about the way Life Wellness Center came to be, is that Khadija asked her husband to invest the money he had put aside for a property into starting a business together. “It took a lot of gumption to ask that,” she laughs, “But here we are, six years later. He’s my husband, my business partner, and my best friend.”
The core of Life Wellness Center focuses on relaxation and care for oneself. Even if you’re not getting a massage, you can book an hour to sit in the garden, sip turmeric ginger tea (sans sugar), listen to running water, watch the koi fish play, and be in the presence of yourself and the old walnut tree grounding the space. The purpose of the garden is to embrace the stillness and serenity felt after a session, instead of running back to work or life’s duties.
The center is located on Tompkins Ave, colloquially known as Black Girl Magic Row as it is filled with businesses owned by Black women. “It’s a mecca of creative businesses supporting one another. A lot of powerful entrepreneurs coming together and really caring about their community. We're outside sweeping, we're building benches, we're doing whatever is necessary to make it feel the way that we imagine it should feel.”
“Tremaine Wright was the chairperson for the district and she owned the space. I remember her talking to me about rent, commercial rent, and being like ‘Oh my god, commercial rent?’ but I told myself to ask for what I wanted. So I did, and she gave us the chance to build our dream.” What’s touching about the way Life Wellness Center came to be, is that Khadija asked her husband to invest the money he had put aside for a property into starting a business together. “It took a lot of gumption to ask that,” she laughs, “But here we are, six years later. He’s my husband, my business partner, and my best friend.”
The core of Life Wellness Center focuses on relaxation and care for oneself. Even if you’re not getting a massage, you can book an hour to sit in the garden, sip turmeric ginger tea (sans sugar), listen to running water, watch the koi fish play, and be in the presence of yourself and the old walnut tree grounding the space. The purpose of the garden is to embrace the stillness and serenity felt after a session, instead of running back to work or life’s duties.
The center is located on Tompkins Ave, colloquially known as Black Girl Magic Row as it is filled with businesses owned by Black women. “It’s a mecca of creative businesses supporting one another. A lot of powerful entrepreneurs coming together and really caring about their community. We're outside sweeping, we're building benches, we're doing whatever is necessary to make it feel the way that we imagine it should feel.”
Khadija leaves us by saying, “Lead by example. You don't have to limit yourself because you are limited financially or because you are limited educationally. All of those things are climbable just by trusting the process, whatever your process is, and knowing that it doesn’t have to happen overnight. I'm most proud when I look around and I see that my work is influencing another generation of women to claim their place and take up as much space as they can in the world. It’s liberation.”
This idea of summoning ancestors is more accessible than one would think. Valarie channels the energy of her grandfather, a biological ancestor, but she also sits at the feet of Black thinkers like Dr. King, James Baldwin, Audre Lorde, and bell hooks.
To keep up with Khadija follow her @khadijahandsproject and @lifewellnessbk.
She's also involved in @blackgirlssew a community dedicated to teaching young Black girls design, sewing, and entrepreneurship.
To keep up with Khadija follow her @khadijahandsproject and @lifewellnessbk.
She's also involved in @blackgirlssew a community dedicated to teaching young Black girls design, sewing, and entrepreneurship.
“As soon as we put people up on pedestals and make them into saints, we sap them of all their power. It’s so easy to say ‘Well, they were saints. They were superhuman. That means I don’t have to try and be like them.’ What does it mean to see them in their messiness and faults? We can begin to acknowledge our own vulnerabilities and faults and say ‘I too am worthy enough to be able to show up and live a life dedicated to love.’”
This aspect of TikTok is one that puts a smile on Sera’s face as she talks about it. She appreciates that the platform works with the user to offer a feed that will generate joy and connect them with like-minded content.
As her career has progressed, Sera has adopted a form of living that doesn’t rely on long-term planning and, for her, it has made all the difference.
“I used to plan things heavily in advance because I’m such a perfectionist. But nowadays, it’s liberating to not have a 5-year plan. The pandemic was a great example of how sometimes things don’t go the way we expect them to and, often, the opportunity you weren't expecting is even better than the one you thought you wanted. So, it’s good to have an idea of who you are, what your core values are, and to have some sort of compass, but life happens when you’re busy making other plans. If you have a short-term vision that makes you happy, you know, just do that. Worry about the next thing when that time comes. I wasn’t always able to do that, but now that I’m trying to be in the moment, things feel more optimistic.”
To keep up with Sera's work, follow her on LinkedIn here.