Black women have always been strong, not out of want but out of necessity

Summary

The text discusses the societal expectation for Black women to be strong, which has historically been a necessity rather than a choice, and the toll this takes on their well-being.

Abstract

The article addresses the societal myth that Black women are inherently strong and resilient, suggesting that this perception is not a voluntary trait but a survival mechanism born out of historical and ongoing struggles. It highlights the emotional and financial burdens Black women often carry, especially during the holidays, and the lack of support and recognition they receive. The narrative underscores the fatigue from constantly being strong without acknowledgment of their humanity and vulnerability. It also touches on the absence of Black men's support, the criticism faced from various quarters, and the need for Black women to be seen as more than just strong figures, but as human beings who are deserving of care and respect.

Opinions

Black women are perceived as impervious to pain and capable of overcoming any struggle, a stereotype that ignores their need for support.
The strength of Black women is often taken for granted, with society expecting them to hold families together without offering help or acknowledgment.
The historical role of Black women as the backbone of their communities has led to a mythical superhero status that is both unrealistic and detrimental to their well-being.
Black women are expected to suppress their vulnerabilities due to fear of being victimized and further marginalized.
There is a call for Black men to recognize their shared heritage with Black women and to offer more support rather than criticism or disdain.
The article emphasizes that Black women, despite their strength, are not invincible and deserve to be respected and cared for as individuals with human limitations.

No one else is required to be strong 24/7 and we’re tired.

There’s this fallacy that black women are so strong, we’re impervious to pain and able to overcome any struggles we may encounter. The fact is we’re strong because time and again, no one is there to hold us up. So we hold ourselves up and we try our best to support each other. I see it mostly over the holidays, where so many of us are the emotional and/or financial glue holding our families together.

No one asks us how we’re doing because no one cares. It’s like when you ask someone how they are out of courtesy, not because you sincerely want to know how they’re doing. If someone does give you an honest answer and they share their struggles with you, you are at a loss for words. You don’t want to get involved in their “drama.” You have enough of your own.

But black women have been the center of struggle since our beginnings. Because we have been the nucleus even of families that have been torn apart, we have this mythical superhero status. We’re bulletproof. We have god-like strength. We can conquer anything.

But we can’t. We just don’t show it. Historically, showing weakness means we’re victimized by people who want to remind us just how much they seek to break us down. As black female slaves watched their children sold off, knowing they could never see them again, they resolved themselves to go on. They survived because they had to survive. Others depended on them — their other children, their husband, the elders on the plantation. The black woman as the dependable, strong one was born of these circumstances. That idea has lived on to present day, and it’s killing us.

Where do we find comfort? Where are the black men who we comfort by opening our arms to hold them and our bodies to love them? Where are they now that we’re struggling? Too many of them have joined the white voices who criticize us for being too loud or too angry. Too many look with distain on our hair, our dark skin and our full lips.

They never bother to look into a mirror and see our faces in their own. They try to separate themselves from us as if they didn’t come from black mothers and grandmothers who fought so that they could exist. They forget that for them to walk this earth, a black woman had to have began their lineage. They forget that in Africa, we were kings and queens. Yes, black women were queens.

We are still queens.

But we’re royalty without respect or admiration. Amongst all the criticism and degradation… still we rise. But we’re weary of fighting alone. We’re tired of having no shoulder to lean on and no arms to encircle us. We deserve to be seen for who we really are.

We are strong black women. But we’re not invincible. We’re human. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that when you see us doing what we have to in order to survive. Trust me, though. We’re exhausted. We just have no choice but to keep going.

Follow me on Twitter:@LeciaMichelle.