06/24/2025
I recently had a conversation with my parents and brother following my most recent therapy session. My therapist gave me some feedback around being more in my head versus my emotions and highlighted my difficult time expressing my emotions and feelings. Remember y’all, I am a therapist. I help others name their feelings all day long, and yet at times I struggle to do the same thing for myself. All day I reflected on the feedback my therapist gave me. It led me to also think about how I’ve often been told that I am hard to read and that others find me to be very private. It led me to think about my parents expression of their emotions and feelings, and then my grandparents, then other family members, and then other Black folks in my immediate circle. It became apparent to me that we are not always direct in our expression of emotions and feelings BUT we are always there for others when they need something.
My family lineage is full of caregivers, teachers and healers. From a birds eye perspective, I realized that my lineage and lived experiences as a Black woman were impacting how I expressed my emotions and feelings. I shared all of this with my family. We talked about how our ancestry as Black people in America included being of service to others and more importantly to not make others physically or emotionally uncomfortable. Non Black folks struggle to tolerate Black folks emotions. To express anger as a Black person leads to being labeled as aggressive and oppositional. To express sadness as a Black person, leads to being labeled as a liar and as being manipulative. And to express yourself as anything other than complacent or as “one of the good ones”, can lead to violence towards you.
Generations of slavery, pre and post slavery societal systems and conditioning, and the conditioning that comes from being a woman have impacted how I express myself, and more importantly the lack of expression of my pain to others. We Black women, are the rock for so many people in our lives. Our ancestors were forced to serve others, and the following generations have inherited the conditioning to be of service and to put others needs before our own. To be the caretakers, the healers, the teachers for everyone we encounter. It is what is expected of us. It is what we have been taught to expect of ourselves as well. But this expectation, the weight of it can leave us isolated and depleted. Never having a safe place to land. Never having a place where we can relax and not have to be hypervigilant of others needs, wants and expectations of us.
I am emotionally tired y’all, and I know I am not the only one. So, I write this to acknowledge my fellow Black folk, but especially my fellow Black women. I see how hard it is to carry the weight of your own emotional struggles in silence, while also carrying the weight others place on your shoulders. I see you.
