And to you if you’re carrying the pervasive stereotype on your shoulders.

You’re crumbling under the weight of the ‘strong black woman’ cape.

Your colleagues didn’t ask you, “How are you doing?” They heard about your recent online sexual harassment. And yet. How you are sleeping at night and if you’re even sleeping at night, they did not ask. “When are you getting back to work?” they asked you. Even after a stranger on the internet sexually harassed you for weeks, they expect you to work with a smile on your face.

The light in your bedroom on, a creepy stranger keeps you awake at night. You stare at your ceiling for hours and then you curl into fetal position hoping you can sleep for a few hours without a nightmare.

But…

The monster keeping you awake at night is not only a sexual predator.

You can’t stop thinking about the email from your boss. Loads of work waits for you when you get back to work, the email read. Before you took two weeks off from work, you delegated most of your work. Your boss is supposed to leave you alone. He is supposed to let you rest. He is not supposed to add to your workload – when you take time off from work. Especially when a sexual harasser took screenshots of you during Zoom meetings and circulated your picture among his friends, pairing them with derogatory and sexually explicit statements implying that you were engaged in sexual acts.

But you’re a black woman.

Even though you were sexually harassed online, you’re supposed to stay unaffected. And unemotional. You’re supposed to shake your pain off and get back to work as soon as possible.

You’re supposed to stay strong.

All. The. Time.

You’re supposed to smile and socialize even though you don’t want to smile or engage with people now or for a while, even though you’re crumbling under the weight of the ‘strong black woman’ cape, even though you just want to stay flat on a floor and cry and feel and sit with your emotions.

Black women are expected to give and give some more…

Black women are expected to be perfect high-functioning superwomen all the time.

Even when we have worked for years.

Even when we are sad and we need a moment to ourselves.

Even when we need to take time off and recharge and just watch the clouds go by.

Others can take time off and rest. For however long they want. Whenever they want.

We can’t.

Absolutely not.

When a white man or woman takes time off and rests, we celebrate their time off. We write about the importance of rest. When a black woman takes time off and rests, the script changes. How dare we take care of ourselves? How dare we delegate our work and spend time with loved ones?

Have we forgotten who we are?

You’re tired of everyone assuming you can never say NO or be hurt. You’re tired of carrying the weight of the ‘strong black woman’ cape. You can never complain. You’re never tired. You’re always strong. So tough. Your mental armor is always on. You’re supposed to carry this heavy armor even if you’re crumbling under its heavy weight, even if you’re on the verge of breaking down, even if you’re nearly losing yourself trying to prove your worth.

You’re so sick of trying to live up to the reputation of the ‘strong black woman’ stereotype.

You’re so sick of never being allowed to be sad or angry or express your pain. Am I the only one feeling hopelessness? you wonder.

You’re not, my friend.

Dr. Burnett-Zeigler, a clinical psychologist, wrote in the New York Times, “Black women are more likely to be depressed and when they are, their symptoms are more severe, last longer and are more likely to interfere with their ability to function at work, school, and home. Black women are more likely to have feelings of sadness, hopelessness, and worthless.”

The ‘strong black woman’ stereotype is pervasive.

It’s a double-edged sword.

On one side of the sword, black women are empowered. When someone tells you you’re strong, it means you can take on anything life throws at you and come on the other side a winner.

But on the other side of the sword lurks a diminishing, a dehumanizing cost. While everyone expects you to be strong all the damn time, you’re not allowed to be human. Humans feel. They hurt. They get sad. They get angry. They get tired. While you carry an image so hard and steely to the outside world, everyone assumes you will remain OK. They assume strong people will withstand large amounts of pain for years and years and remain OK.

This assumption that we’re supposed to be strong all the time is not something we can live up to. And it shouldn’t be.

According to researchers at Health Care for Women International, “This thing called strength, this thing we applaud so much in African American women, could also be a disease.”

Stereotypes put us in a box. You can’t take a deep breathe with all your feelings, your hurt, and your pain suffocating you from inside the box. You’re trapped with all the gamut of emotions you suppressed for years and years bursting to come out of the box. And feel the fresh air.

Do you know how it feels to ditch the pervasive stereotype, to let myself sit with my sadness or anger, to be vulnerable? To not care that I’m not living up to the ‘strong black woman’ stereotype? To admit to the fear, sadness, and pain we all feel?

You feel loved. Like someone kissing your tears away.

You feel free. Like someone lifting the invisible heavy weight from your shoulder.

You feel light. A feeling of weightlessness as if a balloon filled with something heavy, tethered to you, is now drifting off into the stratosphere.

May you feel loved.

May you feel free.

May you feel light.

If someone in your life expects you to give them something so they could love you, then that person is reinforcing the racist ideology that black women have to give you something every day for you to love them in return. Your output is how they’re measuring your worth.

To my black friend and to you if you’re crumbling under the weight of the ‘strong black woman’ cape, I hope you ditch the pervasive stereotype. I hope you sit with your emotions. For however long you need to. If you want to put your head on your pillow and cry for days or you just want to take some time off from work to rest or spend quality time with someone you love, I hope you do. I hope you don’t feel guilty about it.

If you don’t feel like doing anything right now, then nobody should make you feel like you have to do something right now. You don’t have to do everything ‘right’, and be great at everything every time.