Today we’d like to introduce you to Nyree McQueen-Edwards.
Hi Nyree, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
Honestly, my story starts with service. After graduating college, I knew I wanted to do work that mattered, work that centered people. That led me into education and social services, where I spent years supporting children and families, listening more than talking, and often sitting with people in moments that didn’t have easy answers.
At the same time, I was carrying my own story quietly. Like a lot of us, I learned early how to survive without really naming what I had been through. I didn’t talk about my past, including abuse, because survival felt more important than reflection.
That kind of silence is something I see often in our community. We learn to push forward, even when emotional pain goes unspoken.
Writing became the place where I finally felt safe enough to tell the truth.
Movement came even earlier. I started dancing at three years old, long before I had words for emotion or memory. Dance, along with writing, has always been an outlet for me. When I couldn’t explain what I was feeling, my body already knew how to express it. Music has always been part of that, and being from Chicago, house music is part of my rhythm, but dance itself has always been the language.
The Borrowed Brown Skin series grew out of that space. What started as personal reflection slowly became something bigger. I realized I was writing stories that so many people are living, stories about carrying unspoken pain while still showing up for everyone else. A lot of us become who we need to be to survive, and somewhere along the way, we lose access to our own voice. These books are about finding it again.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
No, it hasn’t been smooth, but it has been honest.
One of the hardest parts was giving myself permission to tell the truth without feeling like I had to protect everyone else. In our community, strength is often expected, especially from Black women, and sometimes that strength comes at the cost of our own healing.
Writing these books was healing and cathartic, but it also meant sitting with things I had learned to compartmentalize. Healing doesn’t happen in a straight line, and neither did the writing. There were moments when words weren’t enough, and I had to move, dance, breathe, and let my body release what it had been holding.
Mental health support is still something many of us delay or avoid, not because we don’t need it, but because we’ve learned to cope quietly. That reality shows up in the series as well. Rayna’s journey reflects what happens when speaking feels impossible, and movement becomes another way to survive.
Balancing a demanding career with creative and healing work wasn’t easy, but every challenge reminded me why this story needed to be told.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
Professionally, I work in education, focusing on social-emotional learning, behavior support, restorative practices, and advocacy. I’m often described as someone who brings calm into hard spaces, someone who helps people feel seen when things feel overwhelming. That’s always been important to me.
As an author, what I’m most proud of is that I didn’t rush the healing. The Borrowed Brown Skin series doesn’t offer quick answers, and that was intentional. It explores how trauma lives in the body, how grief reshapes relationships, and how healing often happens quietly, sometimes through words and sometimes through movement.
The books also look closely at emotional safety, how hard it can be to trust, to love, or to feel secure when trauma has gone unaddressed. That’s something so many people recognize in themselves, even if they’ve never had language for it before.
I’m also a proud member of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Incorporated. Sisterhood, service, and advocacy are values I live by, and they show up in every part of my work, both professionally and creatively.
What sets me apart is that I don’t offer quick fixes. I offer space. I offer reflection. I offer permission. Readers often tell me they feel understood rather than instructed, and that means a lot to me.
At its core, the Borrowed Brown Skin series is about voice. My hope is that these books can be used as a tool to help people speak their truth without sacrifice, whatever that outlet looks like for them. Writing, movement, art, conversation, all of it counts. I don’t want anyone to feel like they have to silence themselves just to survive. Your past does not define who you’re destined to become, and it doesn’t matter how long it takes to get there.
Without giving anything away, the final chapter of Book 4 brings everything home. It’s about choosing life, deciding what must be named and what must be released, and stepping into your own truth in order to keep living fully. That moment really captures why I wrote these books in the first place.
Are there any apps, books, podcasts, blogs or other resources you think our readers should check out?
I’m drawn to anything that encourages reflection, healing, and honesty. Books and podcasts that center trauma-informed care, grief, identity, and storytelling, especially from the voices of Black women, really resonate with me.
Music and movement are just as important. Dance has always grounded me. It’s how I stay connected to myself when life feels heavy. I also rely on journaling, mindfulness, and intentional quiet. Sometimes clarity comes when we stop pushing and just listen.
Pricing:
- Books: Available individually and as a complete series
- Speaking, Workshops & Consulting: Customized pricing based on audience, length, and focus
Contact Info:
- Website: More information about my books and services can be found at www.erynunlimited.com, through E’Ryn Unlimited, L.L.C.
