I have tried to come to terms with my emotions over these last few weeks. Trying to understand what it all means and reflecting on who I am as a BLACK woman in this world. For me being black has come with pushing through and not once expecting others to understand how hard it is to create and be creative. Trying to figure out how to fit in, in a world full of privilege. Living in a predominately white city, being married to a white man, and being a DREAMER and a DOER. I never let me skin color stop me, and I never really worry about what others think of me.
As I sit to reflect on my life and the world around me, the tears flow from my eyes like a stream of water flowing from a river. Why am I crying? I am beautiful and I am made in the image of God. Why am I feeling defeated in this dark season that shadows our world? Am I grieving in a way that I’ve never allowed myself to grieve, in a way that brings all the emotions, sadness, anger, frustration and a deep boldness to rise up in a whole new way. Am I dealing with depression or is this just something new. I had to tell myself that it’s okay, and be okay with the ups and downs, the numbness and fear that come with it. I’ve been coming to terms with my emotions over the last few weeks. Trying to understand what it all means and reflecting and praying on who I am as a BLACK woman in this world, and with that reflecting on my boys lives as well.
MY blackness makes me who I am today, and as a black woman who Loves Jesus, Loves People, and Chooses Joy. I always walk to my own beat and that’s how I live. I have many experiences as a black woman, where I have been racially profiled, some alone and others with my white husband. I have numerous incidents where I was the uncomfortable person in the room because of being the only black, but I smiled with joy anyway. I even remember being told from one of my college professors that I wouldn’t pass his class, (did you guess, I was the only black in the classroom). I was told this before the semester even really got started. That pushed me to keep going, and yes I passed and it was a hell of a semester.
As a black woman, anytime you are doing something different, it comes with questioning your ability to get it right over and over again, you question if you will have people to support you, you question if you can even be successful because it’s considered to be out character for those looking in (because you are black). With that you dull your shine a little to accommodate others, you make what you are doing a little less of a big deal, or less important. In reality it is a big deal and it’s important. I was recently called hostile, and violent for standing up for myself and my business. To stand up for yourself and your hard work and walk and integrity and character doesn’t make you violent, just because you are black. We should all have the freedom to stand up for ourselves without being considered bad because of the color of our skin.
