Mass shootings. War. A near-coup in the U.S. Lingering COVID cases. Another looming public health crisis. The continuing fight for justice, and so much more. All of this bad news popping up on our smartphones and TV screens every day has many of us feeling unsettled and unsafe. We barely have time to recover from one collective trauma before we face the next one. This feeling of unease is compounded for Black folks because we also live with the daily reality that we could be the targets of racially motivated discrimination and violence.

As “strong Black women” we may be tempted to ignore these feelings which may create anxiety and depression, and instead try to “push through.” This is what we’ve seen many of our mothers and grandmothers do. Our ancestors had to persevere against formidable odds. Their strength and endurance is how they survived, creating opportunities for the next generation. But that ability to keep on keepin' on has come at a price to their physical, mental and spiritual health and well-being. Today, we can release that SBW stereotype.

We don’t have to be strong in the face of extraordinarily difficult events, and more of us are starting to recognize that. In my practice, I am receiving more inquiries from Black people – Black women in particular – who are ready to process their experiences and emotions. That is a clear break from the past when we avoided counseling because of stigma and false ideas about what it means to be strong. 

And in recent years, high-profile athletes like Simon Biles and Naomi Osaka have presented a new model of strength. By putting themselves and their mental wellness first, they demonstrated a new way of being strong; by acknowledging that it’s okay to not be okay.

What would it mean for you to redefine strength? Like Simon Biles, it could mean setting boundaries, which is what the champion athlete did when she bowed out of some of her Olympic competitions in Tokyo. Or like Naomi Osaka -- who withdrew from the French Open and refused to endure the obligatory and sometimes disrespectful media interviews -- it meant saying no. Despite pressure and criticism, they both did what was best for them and not for others. 

A New Image of Strength

Here are some ways to reconsider what it means to be a strong Black woman.

Look for new role models. In the past, strength may have been defined by enduring a bad marriage, a toxic work environment or constantly doing for others. Instead, think about people in your life or in the public eye who you admire and who exemplify a different type of strength by being independent, by defying expectations or putting themselves first.

Connect with your feelings. Take a few minutes at the beginning or the end of every day to be still, be quiet and ask yourself, How am I feeling? Then write it down. To make things interesting, try it as a six-word memoir. We are so used to rushing through our experiences and not connecting them to how they make us feel, so it’s important to slow down and find ways to process our emotions. (If you're a Black woman who works in white spaces, this is especially important. To get support, you can sign up for my upcoming "Working While Black" group on September 20, 2022. We use literature and lyrics to explore self-love, striving, thriving and more.)

Commit to self-care. Audre Lorde called self-care a “radical act.” When you are feeling sad or overwhelmed, ask yourself what you need to feel better. It could be a call to a good friend, to take a walk outside or even to sleep. Try to avoid doing things that could make you feel worse like misusing alcohol or drugs, or binging on food, TV or social media. 

Rethink physical strength. We often think of strength as measured in physical endurance or power. But being strong can also mean being mobile and active, which generates feel-good endorphins that help lessen sadness and depression. It can also mean being flexible or having the endurance to climb stairs without getting winded.

Show yourself some grace. Don’t be so hard on yourself if it takes a while to break some old habits. Give yourself credit for coming this far in the face of enormous challenges, and recognize when you have benefitted from prioritizing your well-being. That is also a form of strength.

Picture this:  A Black woman with a natural hairstyle like twists or cornrows joins her co-workers for lunch. One of them, a white woman, reaches out to touch her hair, tossing it gently, while saying, “Your hairstyle is so pretty. How long does it take you to do that?”

The Black woman pauses, unsure how to respond to this unwanted intrusion into her physical and emotional space. She tries to think of a response that is polite yet firm. Should she say ‘thank you’ and change the subject? Or should she say, ‘As much time as it takes you to get your roots dyed blonde’?

For many Black women, having our hair touched or becoming the subject of fascination is a common microaggression. The focus on our hairstyles and incredulous tone of questions about them creates the sense that there is something abnormal or exotic about what is perfectly normal to us. Even if a comment is meant as a compliment, it can feel like a slight, a way for a privileged person to other-ize us.

Defined by Columbia University psychologist Derald Wing Sue as “everyday insults, indignities and demeaning messages sent to people of color by well-intentioned white people who are unaware of the hidden messages being sent,” microaggressions can have harmful and lasting impacts on people of color. They can also affect people based on gender identity, sexual orientation, and more. (We may also experience macroaggressions, which affect whole groups or populations, otherwise known as systemic racism.) 

Another example is the assumption we may have landed a job or promotion just because we’re Black, which suggests we’re not smart enough or could not have achieved on our own merits. When a conservative talk show host asked to see Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson’s LSAT scores, he was insinuating that her race played a part in her admission to Harvard Law School. During the confirmation hearings, when Senator John Kennedy called Brown Jackson “articulate,” it was a reminder of the many times that word has been applied to Black people as if we are not expected to be articulate despite years of education. 

How many of us have been followed around in a store while shopping? Or worse, been completely ignored by either a salesperson or fellow customer who cuts in line and says, “Sorry, I didn’t see you.” When director Jane Campion told Venus and Serena Williams while she was accepting a Critics Choice Award that they were “marvels” but did not have to compete with men as she did, she was not only wrong (they’ve played against men in tennis doubles) but she erased all of their achievements with one thoughtless comment. 

When Black women raise these issues at work or try to explain them to their white peers, we may get responses like “That’s not about race,” “I don’t see color/race” or “You’re being too sensitive.”  These comments, too, are microaggressions because they deny who we are and what we know we’re experiencing. They may cause us to doubt ourselves, question our perceptions, and hesitate to speak up again.

Day after day these insults and indignities can add up, like “death by 1,000 cuts,” causing anxiety, stress, anger, and over time, depression. These effects on our mental health can manifest as physical problems like headaches and muscle tension when we are faced with certain people or situations. The impact may be more serious if you have already experienced racial trauma, an accumulation of negative racialized experiences.

How to Manage the Microaggressions

When it comes to microaggressions you don’t have to just take them and suffer to keep the peace. Here are tips to handle them gracefully and protect your well-being. 

Don’t let even small slights slide. If a colleague or stranger reaches out to touch your hair, you are perfectly within your rights to say, “That makes me uncomfortable” or like Solange once sang, “Don’t touch my hair.” If they ask why, say something like, “It’s an invasion of my space and privacy. I wouldn’t expect to be able to touch your hair. Why do you think it’s okay to touch mine?”  It is healthy to set this boundary.

Write about it. To cope with microaggressions, it might be helpful to express your feelings in writing. Try this structured writing exercise below from psychotherapist and writing-for-healing expert Kathleen Adams to help you go deeper in exploring those feelings. 

Consider a situation or recent experience and finish each of the seven sentences stems with a sentence or two. Expect to take 10-15 minutes to complete this exercise. 

When you're done, read and reflect on your writing to explore what thoughts or feelings it brings up. Consider what surprises you or inspires you to make a change. Take another few minutes to write about your reflection.

I want to write about ... 

The first thing that comes to mind is ... 

Below the surface I find ... 

The challenge here is ... 

In order to move forward, I ... 

I can ask for help/support from ... 

My next step is ... 

Commiserate with your sister circle. Share what happened with peers who will understand and affirm your feelings. Or watch this clip from Insecure for examples of how to cope and have a good laugh at the same time. This strategy can be especially helpful when you can’t confront a microaggression because of who it’s coming from (i.e. your boss).

Consider speaking up. If a microaggression or macroaggression is really bothering you or is repeated, it may be time to take a stand. While you weigh whether to say something, ask yourself if you’ll regret not saying something.

Respond with an “I” statement. Start with “I feel _______ when you say/do this.” It may be that you simply felt uncomfortable or diminished. Keep the focus on the impact on you rather than the person’s bad behavior.

If you want to talk more about navigating microaggressions and other work-related challenges Black women face, sign up now for my Working While Black: Sisters Writing and RIsing support group on Tuesday evenings.

As Americans of all stripes march and rally and push to end racial injustice, not only are Black folks reinvigorated to to fight chronic, systemic racism — the other pandemic that we we’ve been facing all along — we’re also being asked to talk about it! In addition to exploring with family and friends in spaces where we feel comfortable, some of us are being invited by white colleagues to share our thoughts and experiences at the office.

But maybe you don’t want to talk about it at the office. And you know what? That’s OK!

In my latest article for the Sisters AARP newsletter, “Boundaries Matter: It’s OK to Not Want to Talk To White People about Racism,” I share some ways you can establish healthy boundaries in your workplace so that you can take care and protect yourself from racially traumatic experiences in white spaces. Read the article here.