I don’t have a lot of black girlfriends. I never have. And it’s not because I haven’t wanted them. I have. I’ve tried, hit and miss, and facilitated some casual connections, but not without weathering some complications and misunderstandings. If you follow my work, you may have read a piece I wrote for Thought Catalog, titled, I Need More Black Friends, which highlights some of my plights, but something that’s recently been weighing on me is the disconnect amongst different groups of black women. I’ve repeatedly run into other black women, in the workplace, in public settings, and even at family events, who’ve often thrown some direct and indirect shade my way, and in the direction of other women, they don’t know much about, greeting them with nasty attitudes, exclusion, aggression, jealousy, and hatred. I’ve personally had other black women, who barely know me, make snap judgments about who they think I am as opposed to who I really am. The division amongst some in my own community, and often feeling and being treated as an outsider is painful, but surprisingly not shocking. The eye-rolls, the “Ugh, she’s so bougie” and “She thinks she’s better than everyone…” comments and jokes have become far too familiar and unnecessary and when I do run into black women like this, I wonder, “Sis, what’s your problem?” Seriously. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. And I’ve done nothing to you. Also, I don’t want your man (for those who assume other women do – seriously this has become a thing…) or anything else you’ve got. Not your job, title, kids, material things, or your life. I know who I am and understand that God gave me a life of my own that suffices just fine.
The divided black women barrier has been something I have not yet broken through completely, but I’m working on it.
When I encounter black women, who express different levels of hostility towards myself or other black women they’ve concluded they don’t particularly like or know very well, I know it’d be presumptuous to assume: Maybe she’s just an insecure person or a hater. Realistically, maybe black women who carry themselves this way are going through things that have nothing to do with me or the women they don’t like. What I really want to know is… Is something bothering you? Are you struggling with something you can’t put into words and taking it out on me and others? Why? Is it a loss? Heartbreak? Disappointment? Depression? Weariness? Issues with colorism? Issues with your love life or lack thereof? Do you think another woman’s success threatens you and yours? Are you frustrated? Struggling with some insecurities about who you are or the way you look? What is it? I wish more black women were willing to communicate and have these kinds of conversations. Especially the younger generations.
I‘m fully aware that there are a lot of different women, especially black women, who carry themselves as strong on the outside, but are inwardly feeling intimidated by other women, insecure, oppressed, lonely, heartbroken, depressed, bitter, dismissed, silenced, and ostracized and carrying invisible and visible scars from those things on a regular basis and taking their pain out on other black women, however, being hurt doesn’t give you license to be rude, nasty, or mean. Especially to your fellow sisters of color or any other women for that matter. Granted, you may have valid reasons for feeling what you feel, but it’s important that you don’t stay in a space of rudeness, nastiness, or meanness that could turn you into a hateful or bitter woman. If you’re going through a challenging time, why not lean on or seek the counsel of another seasoned black woman (yes, even one you may assume is bougie) who might actually be one of the kindest women you’ll meet, who is stronger in areas you can improve in? If you don’t like something about your physical appearance, like maybe your weight, why not get in the gym with other women who go on a consistent basis? If it’s your hair, link up with women who have great stylists they could put you on to. If you’re insecure about your lack of education, talk to successful women who’ve educated themselves beyond what you know or have seen. If you’re struggling with your job or trying to switch up or move forward in your career, wouldn’t it make sense to seek mentorship from another woman who’s already been there? If you’re single and want to settle down someday, why not seek out wisdom from women (preferably those who have 5-10 years of marriage experience) who will keep it 100 with you about what to anticipate and expect in a marriage? Have you considered linking up with confident women who are happily single and decided marriage and having 2.5 kids wasn’t what they wanted or needed, and instead, built lives they love that include an exciting career, chasing their dreams, furnishing homes they own and having experiences that a marriage would hinder them from?
Do better and be better, sis. I want us all to get where we want to go. Let's support each other and uplift and encourage other communities of different women, from all different races and backgrounds, to do better and be better too. Let's do this privately and publicly and mean it. Let's resist the urge to be petty, negative, mean-spirited, or dismissive about another woman's success. Let's be a trustworthy confidant who can keep another woman's struggles to ourselves when she's trusted us enough to confide in us, instead of being women who gossip about her and betray her trust by sipping and sharing the "tea" about her recent break up, job loss, or painful private and public humiliations and disappointments. I believe we can get to better. We've got this.