Take Off the Cape and Put on Your Crown

To my sisters wearing the proverbial Superwoman cape, I see you – and I am afraid for you.

I see your strength, your hustle, and your determination to hold everything and everybody together. In you, I see the woman I used to be, and I want better for you.

I see you juggling two or three jobs, pursuing another degree, running a household, paying bills, raising children, serving your community, singing in the choir, teaching Sunday school, leading sorority committees, attending Bible study, and giving your all to a man who takes more than he gives.

I see you carrying the grief of losing your parents, siblings, or even your own child, the trauma of your past, and the scars of a broken heart – all while never giving yourself the time or space to heal. Your calendar is full. Your days are overflowing with tasks and demands. You barely have time to chew your food or use the bathroom. The expectations are impossibly high, and the support is heartbreakingly low.

You’ve been told you must work twice as hard and be twice as good for half the recognition and reward. And so, you push yourself to prove your worth to people, to jobs, to a society that doesn’t fully acknowledge or appreciate you. If you drained yourself dry or disappeared tomorrow, they would move on without missing a beat.

Sometimes I think we are the most undervalued and least protected and supported people on the planet, and it is exhausting.

Let me tell you something hard but necessary: the “Strong Black Woman” is a myth, and it’s killing us softly. Why do you think we are more likely to die in childbirth or more likely to die of anything else?

We weren’t meant to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. And we don’t have to.

It is okay to be vulnerable.

It is okay to cry.

It is okay to take breaks.

It is okay to ask for help.

It is okay to say no.

It is okay to cancel plans when your soul needs rest.

It is okay to take the time you need to chew your dayum food.

It is okay to talk about the things we’ve been taught to keep silent about.

It is okay to have standards and expectations from those who share your space.

It is okay to be imperfect. Nobody else is. Why do you have to be?

Self-care is not selfish. It is wise and necessary. Nobody can keep pouring from an empty cup. Nobody.

Self-care is self-love.

You shouldn’t have to be everything to everybody and nothing to yourself. Who decided that our tears don’t deserve the same compassion as anyone else’s?

Breathe, my sister. Breathe.

If you keep going like this, you will faint. (Ask me how I know).

There is nothing left to prove.

And let me be clear: I am not saying you should go to the opposite extreme and let the country burn while we sit on a mountain and smoke cigarettes. I know we are hurt and tired. I know many of us feel betrayed and abandoned by those we thought cared about us. That pain is real. We can sit with our pain for a minute, but letting the country burn isn’t an option.

For better or for worse, this is OUR country.

If it burns, we all burn. Everything our ancestors fought and sacrificed for burns, too. We have a responsibility to perpetuate the legacy of those who came before us, and we owe the next generation a better world. We can take the time we need to nurture our broken hearts, but giving up will never be an option for us.

So, I am not telling you to say the hell with everything and everybody. What I am saying is that you are somebody who deserves your own consideration. What I am saying is that:

The responsibility for fixing everything wrong in the world is not on you.

You must set boundaries and have balance in your life.

You don’t have to carry this by yourself.

Even if there is no man around to protect or help you, you can always rest in your femininity and soft nature as a woman because God has you. You say you believe in Him, but you live, stress, and struggle as if He doesn’t exist, as if He doesn’t love you.

That is the difference between this generation and the generations before. They never lost faith. Their lives and circumstances were so much harder, but they never lost hope or gave up on creating a better future. That’s the faith and strength that exists inside of you. That is the truth of you.

The world may pretend not to see you, but they do. Your light shines effortlessly. Even if they choose not to recognize it, God sees you. He knows your heart. He sees your effort. He feels your pain.

And He wants you to know this:

You are worthy.

You are beautiful.

You are intelligent.

You are talented.

You deserve happiness and peace of mind.

It is your birthright.

So, take off that cape. You were never meant to wear it.

Put on your crown instead. You are a Queen.

And Queens don’t break themselves to build the world. They rule with wisdom, grace, and love – starting with love for God and love for themselves, and from there, they are able to give joyously to others.