When two Black women writers' paths cross
- May 15
- 3 min read
Some encounters disguise themselves as coincidence. But upon reflection, you realize they were orchestrated by a divine force. Unsuspected at first. Obvious in the end.
That's what happened between me and Blandine BONVENT, a few months ago.
A voice I couldn't hear from across the room
It's mid-October 2025, and I'm attending a networking event. Classic round of introductions. My turn comes.
I talk about my passion for writing. A passion born in my childhood that no amount of years working as an Accounting Manager ever managed to silence. A passion I plan to bring to life even more fully through a new venture: LinkedIn ghostwriting. I mention my EstellyHappy blog, my notebooks and journals inspired by Madras and Bogolan prints, and… my self-published poetry book, recently translated into English.
I don't hear it, but a voice echoes inside the mind of a woman sitting across the room: "I wrote and self-published a book too. I want it in English."
That woman introduces herself to me near the end of the event. Her name is Blandine BONVENT. She is a nurse, a mother of four, a native of Martinique. And the author of an autobiography titled Sur le Chemin de mes Rêves. We talk briefly and exchange contact details.
A few days later, I read her story. And something deep inside me tightens, cracks, then opens wide.
Sleeping in her car for her dream. Women Entrepreneurs, I see you
Working two jobs while studying for a degree, we know that story. Waking her children at 4 a.m. for an internship, hard, but okay. Sleeping in her car for an entire month rather than give up on her dream?
That's where I stopped cold. (I actually looked around to remember where I was.)
Not because I found it sad or extreme. But because it spoke of a fierce, almost defiant determination.
How many women carry within them, in silence, that same belief in their own inner power, and keep moving forward no matter what, toward the goal they've set for themselves?
How many women - Black women writers and beyond - are building their dreams under conditions the world doesn't see, doesn't acknowledge, doesn't celebrate enough?
This book speaks for them. And it spoke to me.
Two self-published Black women writers. One shared mission
We hadn't planned to work together that evening. But that's the thing about the right encounters: they open doors you hadn't even noticed were there.
Blandine had a story that deserved to resonate beyond the French-speaking world. And I write and translate my own work. Something in me knew, quickly, that this story had readers waiting for it, in English, on the other side of the Atlantic.
We signed a contract. She entrusted me with her voice. And I made a commitment to render it faithfully without embellishing, without erasing, without betraying.
Because Blandine's strength doesn't lie in ornamentation. It lies in the raw authenticity of a woman who simply tells the story of how she refused to give up.
To translate is to listen
This unexpected project taught me something I already knew, but had never felt quite so deeply in my bones: translating is not rewriting. It's listening.
Listening to someone's voice until you grasp its rhythm, its silences, its imperfections. The very things that make it real. Then finding the right words in another language so that rhythm survives the journey.
Five months. Ten chapters. And an Estelle who learned to listen even more closely to the women she works with.
On the Path of My Dreams now exists in English. It's for women who have a dream somewhere deep inside them. For those who juggle, who doubt, who keep going anyway. For those who need to hear that another woman, somewhere, bet everything on herself. And made it.
What's Next?
On the Path of My Dreams by Blandine BONVENT is available on Amazon. Sur le Chemin de mes Rêves, the French edition, is too.
If you're looking for a true story about a woman who looks like you, a raw, unpretentious account, a shot of momentum for the rest of your year, this book is for you!
And if you too have a story that deserves to be told in another language… who knows? Leave me a comment.
Warmly,
Estelle
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