Who TF Carries US?
No matter how many memes circulate the internet, or how bad the world gets. The idea of loving Black Women always falls on deaf ears.
I am so tired of being strong in a world that offers everyone else but black women grace.
People are always expecting Black Women to bear EVERYTHING while having no accountability partner, no one to check in to see if we are okay, and no one fighting for us.
I honestly wish that Black Women didn’t have to experience pain before they experience love.
In a world that hates the color of our skin and hates the fact that we have a voice, somehow we are still the go-to when everyone and everybody needs saving.
But WHO saves us, who protects us, who fights for us, who advocates for us?
I have watched Breonna Taylor's name get buried in my timeline for OVER 150 days, and her killers have not been arrested.
This is no time to compare deaths because ALL black lives matter, BUT George Floyd shut down the world and had so many people at his funeral in the wake of COVID-19 and we can’t have an arrest for a Black woman who was killed while sleeping?
The bar is literally in hell, we just want respect, we just want to not be shot at, we just want to be believed, and to not have to prove that our lives matter just as much as our brothers.
Black men, I expect so much more because you come from the womb of a Black Women and still stutter when it's time to speak for her, come on the TL and try and talk your way out of sexual assault.
White women have lied on your name for years, and when your sister speaks her truth she deserves to be silenced, to be killed, to be canceled?
You want her to have knees like Meg, but the world shakes when Meg needs someone to stand for her?
I wish all of the hate, all of the unnecessary pain we bear, from childbirth to board rooms had some type of connection, to who we are, because we are so much to so many people and still are spoken about like we’re nothing.
We have to jump through hoops to be seen by our white counterparts and by those who share our skin color, we must be in imminent danger that involves someone that isn’t a black male in order for our cries to be seen as real tears.
I’m so fucking tired of being graceful, of holding picket signs and walking for my people at marches, for people to stand still when black women are the topic of conversation.
We’re so hated, yet so needed.
Being a Black Woman has made me stay in situations longer than I anticipated due to the fear of “if not us, then who?”
Being a Black Woman made me raise grown men, and become an unlicensed clinician to help them rebuild and sort out their demons, while still suffering from being fatherless myself.
Being a Black Woman has made me not only fear my oppressors but fear speaking up about anything for the idea that I may not be believed.
Being a Black Woman has made me tap into my childhood trauma, and teach myself that it’s okay to cry, and be weak because my whole life a black woman taught me the only option I had was to be strong.
Being a Black Woman has made me the type of angry they expect us to be.
But they won’t tell you that 59% of Black women 25 and older attended college.
That 42% of businesses that are owned are owned by women of color.
And to be the most neglected, disrespected, overlooked, people in America we have the lowest suicide rates in comparison to any other race and gender.
Why? Because Black Women, bend but don’t fold.
To every Queen that has been neglected, hurt, abused, misled, mistreated, assaulted, and proven unworthy, I am here to let you know that I see you.
That your power reigns even when the world tries to convince you otherwise.
The world was built on the backs of praying grandmothers and ancestors that were born to fight. We are literally the rib of this world, don’t ever let social media, men, or your white counterparts try to convince you that you aren’t magic.
