Today marks one year of launching this blog!
A year ago, I made an announcement that I would be quitting my job in order to better take care of my mental health. I didn’t say that so explicitly; I was more poetic with it. But it was the case nonetheless. I introduced this notion of “Superwoman Syndrome” that I had been operating in the majority of my life and how it affects black women and Christian women in particular.
The blog has been a way for me to document my journey of self re-discovery, as I’ve thrown off my cape and tore off my mask in order to take a better look at the way I move through life.
Being the “strong one” should not be a badge of honor if that person isn’t holding space for themselves in the midst of holding space for everyone else.
Being the “strong one” should not be a badge of honor if that person doesn’t feel like they are actually seen, heard and appreciated by those around them.
Being the “strong one” should not be a badge of honor if, at the end of the day, that person has nothing left to give.
I was tired of being the strong one. So, I decided to stop.
I stopped wearing myself thin trying to go to every event and serve on every ministry and speak on every panel.
I stopped picking up the phone for people when I barely had any mental room to formulate 5 sentences. The conversation could wait another day or week. And wait, it did.
And I started a path to a better me.
I started practicing mindfulness and learned how to ground myself in the present.
I started saying “No” to what didn’t serve me and “Yes” to what did.
I started shedding deep-seeded thoughts of unworthiness.
I started asking for what I needed instead of trying to do everything myself.
One year later, I’m still learning.
I’m still trying to have it all together.
I’m still being hard on myself.
I’m still adding pressure to situations that could be so much lighter.
But I’m progressing.
And, most importantly, I’m still here.
One year later, I’m so much more comfortable voicing my feelings and not apologizing for them.
One year later, I’m so much stronger. And that strength was built by leaning on people.
One year later, I have grown closer to my family.
One year later, I have grown deeper in love with myself.
One year later, I have built an unshakeable relationship with Christ.
Healing is a journey; it’s not a race.
Thank you to everyone who has weathered the storms with me.
Because of you, I know that I am seen.
Because of you, I know that I am heard.
Because of you, I know that I am loved.
I am just one of many recovering “superwomen” who needed some extra help navigating adulthood and life in general. Please check in on your strong friends. Make sure that strength isn’t a façade. Make sure that strength isn’t a cry for help. Make sure that strength is rooted in self-love.
I’ll be celebrating my 27th birthday in two days, and I’m incredibly grateful for the amount of perspective I’ve gained this year.
The journey continues. The work continues. The fight continues.
Until Next Time,