Dear Black Woman: A love letter to me, myself and I.

If you’re feeling like me lately, life has been feeling HEAVY, and if you want to take it a step further, if you’ve been feeling anything like me, you’re tired, overstimulated, and just ready to strip it all away.  I’ve found myself recently sitting and twirling my thumbs trying to figure out what space I hold in this world and what’s next. The exhaustion of trying to hold it all in, while being a black woman, a mom, an entrepreneur, a leader/co-worker or whatever the title may be, it has become a bit much. As I scroll through all of my social media feeds, I am finding that all black women currently share the same sentiments. WE ARE TIRED!

I was getting ready for bed one night and the phrase “Dear Black Woman,” kept popping up in my head. I questioned, “what black woman am I writing to?” I am writing to YOU! The fellow black woman that looks like me, the black woman who knows what type of compliment the phrase “ ok, pink pants!” holds, the black woman who knows what it means to continue to fight even when everything and everyone is against her, the black woman who knows that she has to be twice as good at anything just to even get a look her way. The braid wearing, I just got my hair done, can’t step out in the rain black woman. This is for YOU!!

Sis, I see you, we see you and if I’m being completely honest, WE got you! In a world where we are conditioned to believe that there can be only one of us, I challenge us to deconstruct that narrative and rally together. I challenge you to be a shoulder to lean on for the woman standing next to you that looks like you. Believe it or not we ALL are feeling the same, TIRED! I want to ask you to stop trying to be the strong black woman sis, lay your head on another sister’s shoulder and rest. I challenge you to do it with confidence because there is so much strength in saying I need help and allowing someone to help carry you when you’ve been carrying everyone else all this time.

Dear Black Woman, in a world that demands so much, it’s okay to reclaim that space for yourself, to breathe, and to honor your own needs.

Let’s redefine what strength looks like. It doesn’t always mean pushing through; sometimes, true strength is found in letting go, in saying “no,” and in choosing yourself without guilt or feeling the need of an explanation . This letter, this love note, is a reminder that you’re allowed to show up in all your compassion and gentleness. That you don’t have to live up to anyone else’s story about what it means to be a Black woman—you can write your own.

So here’s to taking off the cape, to showing up as you are, AUTHENTICALLY YOU, with the softness you deserve, and the resilience that already flows through you. Here’s to celebrating the parts of you that don’t always get the applause, the parts of you that just want to BE. From one black woman to another, this is your permission slip to rest, to reset, and to remember that you are enough as you are.

Dear Black Woman, I see you, I love you and in the words of the great Mrs.Kevonstage, your worthiness doesn’t require a prerequisite!

Beauty