I am retired from being a strong black woman. I have given myself permission to let go of being a strong, black, woman. SBW’s do not have needs, they aren’t vulnerable, they don’t need to be babied or spoiled. I need all those things.

Don’t confuse this with the idea that I am not strong, I am not black, or I am not a woman. I am just tired of the fight. Being a SBW comes with the burden and inconsiderate disregard of my feelings, as I am considered an invulnerable super hero with no feelings at all.

I want to be put on a pedestal. I want my tears to galvanize the masses to act on my behalf. I want my tears to call our men to action to save me, protect me, and fight for me.

Yet SBWs historically have been the mother’s who have lacked the ability to nurture and love. SBWs only know survival tactics. SBWs hide behind the guise of strength so that we can endure being treated as a second or third class citizen. SBWs are afraid to show weakness. SBWs struggle to show their sons and daughters kindness or softness, knowing that the world doesn’t offer the same such kindness. SBWs try to prepare their children for a world that they are afraid will break them. SBWs were often not given love and nurturing skills growing up. There is no room for fragility for an SBW.

SBWs cry in the dark, alone, in silence, then pick themselves up, stiffen their back and heads back into the cold cruel world. SBWs put a smile on and pretend everything is okay, all while their world is falling apart. SBWs are not immune to pain, they just know how to struggle and survive with the pain.

Dear world, I no longer want to be an SBW. I would like to experience empathy, I would like someone to pray for my protection, I would like for someone to create a space for me to be frail, weak, and safe. I would like a real mentor that proudly watches and helps me grow, learn, and flourish.

Dear world, I have retired from being an SBW.