As I walk into the local bank and approach the double doors, I always seem to open the door as if the man opening the door to the side of me is doing it for his health...why is that? I wonder does he not see the Strong Black Woman. Is he rejecting her..... hoping to allow me just a moment in ladyness? I don’t bother to ask questions anymore about this or that...because I realize that I have became the mythical character in the oppressing drama of the Strong Black Woman.
Critically acclaimed this is my most beloved accomplishment. As I wake up every day and run around chaotically as I dress myself, iron my son’s clothes, heat up a pop-tart, walk my dog, and prepare my mind to transform in the “book-bag lady” and head to school. Only to return to clean the house, prepare dinner, play cops and robbers, bathe my son, innie meenie minee mo my bills, read my son a bed time story, read to my heart a lifetime story…. only to start studying at 10:PM until 3:30 in the morning, and must once wake again at O'dark:30.
What do you mean, I know you’re not complaining.....pshhhhhh.... momma did it, her momma did it and when we were slaves we did it all the time." These are the words I hear echoing in the paranoid spaces of my mind. You are a Strong Black Woman just get used to it! God never gives you any more than you can bear! You have that special strength...... of the Black Woman of old,.... of the days when we toiled in the fields, lay on our backs, fed their children, and birthed our own…. while smiling and singing a happy tune. You are a Strong Black Woman don’t you see?
Dear heart: Do I have a choice? I never thought I would be doomed to a forced marriage. Yes..... you see in this time, at this hour I am not married to the thoughts of my dreams and God's will for my life. I have been forced into an arranged marriage with the Strong Black Woman Goddess. Sometimes I despise her; Sometimes I don’t understand her…. Sometimes I want to abandon her.......but constantly conflicted…. most of the time---- I Love her. Oh beloved am I in an abusive relationship? Perhaps this is what they mean by a same-sex love affair....... me and the Strong Black Woman? Am I battered and beleagured by the Strong Black Woman? Is there a shelter of last resort within my soul, within my identity? What good would it do to change my name, when there are generations of her blood that flows through my veins? Do I have the courage, the will and the resources to escape her grip? Will I leave from her and run away….. just to run out there to an empty lonely waste....a peter panette darkness.....realizing quickly how naked I am, how weak I am, and only to once again summon the spirit of the Strong Black Woman to my help...... begging her not to forsake me and not to set her eye and her heart against me? At last I realize....... I would give anything to be a Strong Black Woman…in costume......don’t you see?
She is always pacing through my mind; prodding me, judging me, mocking me. She Hugs me while choking me, supports me while riding my back, as she looks over her shoulder back to me, while laughing at me...... building confidence in me while undermining me. She Declares I can be all things, while snickering develishly telling me I am not. And then she says..."what were you thinking"?....you thought you could escape me.” I told you…. You are a Strong Black Woman, don’t you see? That is all you will ever be.
Is this destiny or should it be called fate?
My Strong Black Woman torments me; she smothers me and suffocates me. She robs me of my vulnerability; she blinds the eyes and sensibilities of the man that would help me. She robs me of my innocence, she robs me of my distressed damsel desires, she prevents me from resting…because I am always Building……building a home, building a future, constructing the self and protecting my heart. I scream out to her, “ I Hate You”…she laughs at me and says…”oh foolish child, for I have never known a love so strong……don’t you know I LOVE YOU,” I am the love that is within you, guiding you, preparing you and protecting you. I have given you a Voice; the power of speech, the discernment of Wisdom, the agency of creation, and a cocoon to undergo wonderous change.. My sweet sweet angel...... “You are a Strong Black Woman….don’t you see, that so... so many others will never be?
The Strong Black Woman shared time and space with God last night....she tells me of wonders......
God has hidden within you a treasure; a gold mine of exquisite jewels, stones, and precious metals. He has given you the power of water to cleanse and grow, the destructive force of fire to burn down and renew, the black soil of your mind to create and nurture. And he has given you the power of the wind to blow the message of your seed to faraway places. God is in me and my strength in you, for he dispels the fears of your troubled mind and the sorrows of your faintness of heart. Will you accept me?
You are a Strong Black Woman don’t you see… that there will be many that will never know a Love so sweet?
This chocolate myth has me and vanillia has Her not…for no other stands as two women within one body. No other knows my two-ness. In my lamentations I wonder...is there a place for me...in that assortment of womanly images?...you know…… the ones we see in the scented vanilla pages of Woman’s day, Woman's World and Cosmopolitan. Can the Ebony /Essence of MY individuality only be told through a collective story, which is shared by so many of us mythical Strong Black Women? We are having an identity crisis…..entangled in identity management…. in hopes of redefining and selectively reinforcing my identity, her identity….and...... our identity?
Impression management is how I maintain: I am happy, I am excited, I cant wait to show and share with you...for I am this and I am that....... but please don’t look to hard, don’t rub against me......I would hate to ruin your white silk perception with the melting of my impression. Then you will know me, then you will see me, and behold I am bleeding...... I am a cracked vessel......I am bruised, I am vulnerable, I am delicate, I am scared.......But look quickly because, the eclipse will soon be over and you will return to me, to my invisibly blinding image, to my script, to my character and to my role…and that is the Strong Black Woman that is mythically me oh so deep within my soul!
Justice Speaks........
Today memories flooded my soul and tears that had been bottled up inside for so many years disguised, yes by the illusion of being a strong black woman. I made it. Not the way I would have preferred. Not by being loved,cared for, or made to feel that I can let go and let the strong black man in my life take the lead. But I made it. I applaud the author of this reality show in words. My sister, learn from your experiences and construct the future for yourself and your son. That strong (man) will be just around the corner because you have arrived, you know what you want don't settle for less.
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