Because May is Mental Health Awareness month, I wanted to address a few things that are happening (or not happening) within the black community. This letter will be the first part. Stay with me...
Dear Black Women,
I feel for you. I'm one of you. There are so many things the world expects from us and even more we expect from ourselves. We have high hopes and tough standards. When we fall short, we beat ourselves up because we feel that we aren't supposed to make mistakes. But we it's hurting us more than we know.
We seek men that will love us for who we are, challenge us, and won't complain when we buy too many pairs of shoes or fall into a funky "mood". The world, however, says we aren't likely to find our prince charming. So again, we blame ourselves. Am I too brusque? Did I do enough for him? Did I love enough? Did I emasculate him?
We are taught to be the backbone of our communit, but sometimes the weight seems too heavy. We're told not to complain but we want to scream until someone, ANYONE listens to us. But not only listen, feel for us. When our bodies tell us to get some rest we ignore it. If we're laid up, who's going to run the household?
Black women, I'm speaking to you as wel as to myself. You are some of the most beautiful, passionate, spirited women on the face of the earth. You possess a certain something that cannot be explained, nor can it be duplicated. You are worthy of all the love you desire and more just for being you. When we begin to see that in ourselves, others will too.
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