Black Women Deserve More Than Being “Strong”

I’ve been thinking about how quickly we call a Black woman “strong” when what we’re really seeing is someone who has learned to keep going while she’s hurting.

She still shows up to work. She answers the texts. She takes care of her children, her family, her friends, and everybody else who needs something. From the outside, she looks like she has it handled. But being able to function does not mean she is okay.

That is part of why I want us to talk openly about suicide among Black women. A study of U.S. data found that suicide rates among Black females ages 15 to 84 rose from 2.1 per 100,000 in 1999 to 3.4 in 2020. I don’t share that number to reduce anyone’s life to a statistic. I share it because our pain deserves to be taken seriously, even when we’ve become good at hiding it.

I think about how often Black women are expected to push through. We’re praised for doing it all, then left alone with the cost of doing it all. And sometimes we do it to ourselves, too. We say, “I’ll rest after this week,” but another week comes. We say, “I don’t want to bother anyone,” while we’re carrying more than one person should have to carry.

Rest is not something we have to earn by reaching a breaking point.

For some of us, rest may look like a quiet evening and a phone on Do Not Disturb. For others, it may take more than a day off. It might mean talking with a health care provider about what’s going on, taking sick time, asking about workplace accommodations, or exploring medical leave. If you qualify, FMLA can provide job-protected leave for certain mental health conditions. There may also be other leave options through your employer. I know taking time away from work is not simple when bills still need to be paid. That’s exactly why I want women to know what options exist before they feel like they have no choice but to keep pushing.

And rest can also mean letting someone help you.

I know “ask your village” sounds easy until you actually have to send the text. Especially if you’re used to being the dependable one. But your village cannot always tell what you need from “I’m fine.” Give them a real task. Ask a friend to bring dinner. Ask your sister to pick something up for you. Let someone sit with you while you make the appointment you’ve been putting off. Tell a person you trust, “I’ve been having a hard time, and I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

You don’t have to package your pain neatly before someone is allowed to care about you.

And to the people who are somebody’s village: check in beyond “How are you?” If she says she’s overwhelmed, ask what you can take off her plate. Follow up tomorrow. Pay attention to the woman who always says yes, always helps, and never seems to need anything. She might need someone to show up for her without making her manage that, too.

I also know some women are reading this and thinking, What village? Maybe you moved. Maybe the friendships you have don’t feel safe enough for honesty. Maybe you’ve spent so long being there for other people that you’re realizing you don’t know who you can call.

That is one of the reasons I created Her Circle Collective. I want women to have a place to build genuine friendships and be heard as whole people, beyond what they do for everyone else. A space where you can come as you are, meet women who want real connection, and begin building the kind of village you can lean on.

Her Circle is a community, not a substitute for therapy or crisis care. But I believe having people you can talk to, laugh with, and turn to matters. You deserve relationships where you don’t have to perform strength every time you walk into the room.

If there’s one thing I hope you take from this, it’s this: you do not have to wait until things become unbearable to ask for support. Take the day if you can. Explore your options if you need more time. Hand someone a task. Tell the truth to a person who has earned your trust. And if you’re still building your village, there is room for you in Her Circle Collective.

We deserve to be safe. We deserve to be heard. We deserve rest while we are still here to enjoy it.

If you’re thinking about suicide or need support right now, call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. You can reach out even if you’re unsure whether what you’re experiencing “counts” as a crisis.