She’s a hard woman, a stereotype.
Caressing a fake identity and hiding behind a mask.
Living an illusion behind an acquired physical façade
of A strong black woman who is accustomed to dishing
the same meal to whoever cares to listen, swinging the
blood stained banner of strong black woman and delivering
the same speech to herself and everyone around her.
Lost within ego validation that everyone values, convincing
herself that she is perpetually tough, uniquely indestructible
and can do bad all by herself.
She’s a soldier going toe-to-toe with her male counterparts.
Handling her problems in silence and trivializing her pain.
Hardened by the world, toughened by bad experiences.
She’s afraid to admit that she is hurting and struggling.
Quick to dismiss help and support because she doesn’t
want to appear weak and vulnerable to anyone.
Softness is forbidden!
She’s a machine, working tirelessly with challenges to
prove that she can do it all by herself.
She walks around with a bold face amidst abuse and
power through it. Hiding her true feelings and emotions inside,
shaking off feelings of disappointment with the strong black
woman attitude. A haughty woman now callous and jaded.
She’s from the third generation of strong black women.
Indefatigable mamas and sisters hustling and struggling with
pain etched on their faces and worry wrinkling their brows.
She was taught to be resilient and to hide her tears and pain
from the world. A military training sufficient in these times.
She looks up to strong female figures for motivation.
She is very competitive and always comparing herself with others.
Reading self help books to boost her confidence, validate her
lifestyle and to hide her sadness.
She’s the super woman taking care of everyone but herself.
Quick to help and save everyone but neglect her needs.
To the world, she’s the woman that got it all together,
recovers faster from traumatic events in her life and is
always equipped with the best advice.
She is frightened, insecure, confused, lost and constantly
She hides her tears and pain from the world with constant
reassurance and validation of, “I got this, I don’t need anyone.
I am a strong black Woman”. A self comforting chorus to make
her feel good about herself and convince everyone that she is in
control yet she is breaking up inside and losing her mind.
Unaware that it’s alright to show weakness amidst pain,
conflict and disappointment; to cry when hurting, to confide
in someone when she needs comfort; to ask for support
when she is overwhelmed and helpless.
Expressing her true feelings and showing emotions.
Embracing the essence of being human, and also most
importantly, her femininity.
**Being strong is overrated, the illusion of strong black woman
is confusing and misleading many sisters in these times.
Resilience amidst hardship is admirable, being feminine is beautiful.
Woman, there is nothing wrong with crying, admitting that you’re
wrong when you mess up, asking for help where necessary…and
mostly, confiding and sharing your struggles and difficulties with
Mental illness is real and depression is a silent killer that is affecting
many people today. (Not just women) Too many people walking
around with a stone face yet they are breaking down inside and
no one knows their story.
Talk to someone, live a little. You’re not a super woman!**