“Stop being the strong Black woman,” they said. I fought them for as long as I could. I would agree with them externally while still piling all of my family, friends, and any other random person’s problems I could find onto my back.
I’d fix it and make it better, not because I want to, but because that’s my job. Not to mention, it went beyond that. I also had to keep my life together and my life was my responsibility and no one else’s.
I could ask for help, but I’m “grown.” It’s up to me to figure it out all by myself. Then the sleep disturbances happened. I wouldn’t allow myself to sleep at night until I knew what I was writing for work not just the next day, but the next week.
Read more on themighty.com