As I responded to the prompt, I felt relieved because I was able to candidly express and share what some of my experiences have been like as a young Black girl who’s always had a drive and desire to be an ambitious and successful woman – only to find myself criticized and misunderstood (by different family members, friends, non-Black peers and colleagues, and women who are moms and wives) for choosing to invest in myself and a life of my own instead of silencing my voice, settling for less, or taking on the roles of a wife or a mom. I’ve learned that if you’re a woman who isn’t willing to be docile and subservient, “traditional,” or willing to allow others to control and dictate your life choices, some people will quickly form impressions or assumptions about you based on their limited perspectives.
I know myself, and I know I’ll never be content with settling for less or be cool with trying to be who or what others want me to be, especially if it means pretending to be someone I’m not. I want to be my own woman and do great and meaningful things with my life. And while I’m not entirely sure if a husband or a child will be a part of my story, I’ve realized that you don’t need a significant other or a child to have a fulfilling or meaningful life. I know that might be hard for some people to understand, especially women who are moms or wives and for women who want to be moms or wives someday, but why should I put my life on hold when I can go my own way? My choices don’t have to align with everyone else’s. And I shouldn’t be penalized, criticized, or marginalized for going a different way. Yet, I’ve endured some of the most confusing, thoughtless, mean-spirited, and obnoxious comments from women who are moms and wives like:
“Well, you’re not a mom, so you don’t understand.”
“You don’t have kids, so you don’t understand.”
“You’re single, so you should be willing to be more flexible.”
“You don’t have the same financial responsibilities as I do.
“You’re just jealous because you’re not married.”
“You’re selfish.”
And much more.
My life, my time, and the things I’ve got going on matter to me and are just as valuable as any other woman’s life and time are too. And I’m not any less of a woman or should feel the need to willingly surrender my time, resources, or energy to what others want because I’m not married and don’t have kids.
Feeling marginalized as a Black woman in the workplace (and within the world) has been an interesting experience as well. My age, race, sex, and religion have all been areas that have been tested in ways I never imagined. And the racism, sexism, and experiences with harassment and microaggressions within the workplace have been challenging to move through too. As a Black woman, I know what it’s like to be called “angry” or “difficult” for standing up for myself when I’ve been disrespected and mistreated. I also know what it’s like to be mishandled by colleagues in higher positions who’ve been able to get away with their bad behavior. I know what it’s like to be treated like I’m invisible and don’t matter. And I know what it’s like to feel unsafe. These experiences can feel dehumanizing, but I do my best to move through them as best as I can. In a past workplace role, I ended up seeking professional counseling when some of the experiences I had started taking a toll on my mental health. I’m in a better place now, but the trauma from some of those experiences has taken time to heal from.
Marginalization is an interesting thing to unpack because I believe it's something that many people experience but don't always know how to cope with or discuss. And many people may not feel comfortable doing so. I just hope that if you're someone who's ever felt marginalized or currently feels marginalized to know that you're not alone. It's not easy to be the one that's "different," moves differently, or goes a different way, but you don't have to do what everyone else is doing or be who others want you to be. Just do you and embrace the person you're becoming.