A friend recently told me I didn’t seem like the crying type. Growing up, especially in my teenage years, I considered being called strong a compliment. But now, that statement makes me kind of sad.
I am the crying type. I just don’t cry in front of anyone. Looking back, the pressure to project strength has prevented me from fully expressing my emotions and seeking support when I needed it.
Women are considered strong based on their perseverance through and survival of pain and suffering without complaining. For black women, the weight of this expectation is compounded by the intersection of race and gender.
Our strength is often gauged not only by our ability to endure pain but also by our resilience in the face of systemic oppression, social injustices, and economic disparities. I thought this was the ideal model of womanhood because it is what I saw growing up.