A LETTER OF LOVE TO THE 92%

I want to share some thoughts on the tension many of us feel between the desire to care for others and the inability to care for ourselves. It’s a paradox rooted in more than just societal conditioning—it’s a type of conditioning that is ultimately self harming in nature. It’s a very layered experience that highlights generational unresolved trauma. There’s a wound that hasn’t been fully accepted or witnessed, one that makes us believe pouring into others might somehow fill the void we carry. Another layer is the lack of self-worth—the belief that we aren’t deserving of our own love, so we give it away freely to others, hoping it will somehow circle back to us.

There are definitely more reasons why this pattern exists, but these two feel especially heavy for me. As Black women, I believe we often fall into one of these two categories, and it’s a disservice to ourselves. Matter of fact —it’s a disservice and a type of harm to everyone. But what I want us to consider, deeply, is what it can look like to shift our mindset and flow toward centering ourselves— without thinking of what that care can do for others, but simply just for us.

This isn’t something I would ask of every group or demographic – to be honest I feel the exact opposite for many of them – but it is absolutely essential for Black women. We exist at the intersection of racism and sexism, and that reality requires us to stay hyper-aware of others’ needs, to navigate environments carefully, to ensure we don’t lose our lives in the process. It really is that simple, and that severe.

But even with that reality in mind, it’s necessary for us to reframe our lives around what nourishes and supports us. When we do that—when we believe we are worthy of our own love and care—the goodness of this world opens itself to us. And by default, when Black women are well-nourished and cared for, the world benefits too. Everyone has always thrived on our labor, our love, and our light. So just imagine what it could look like if the balance were corrected—if the harm we endure was alleviated, and we were thriving too.

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Now, I want to be clear: this isn’t about placing the responsibility of saving the world on Black women’s shoulders. That’s exactly the burden I pray we finally shed. This is about stepping into a new era where the energy we once gave away consciously & subconsciously is redirected toward our own nourishment and healing. It’s about reclaiming what was always ours and allowing others to step up and take responsibility for the roles they’ve long avoided. For too long, we’ve held the weight, showing up because we’ve known our survival depended on it. But in doing so, we’ve allowed others to sit back and trust that we’d come to the rescue. That dynamic is dissolving now, and it’s going to create chaos. People will finally feel the foundation they relied on crumbling. Which is a part of everyone’s growth. No one has the right to access the best of us simply because they expect it.That energy we’ve poured into the collective is now being reclaimed, and that is power.

Of course, with that reclamation comes questions: what do we do with all this energy? Where do we channel it? Is it finding new hobbies, deepening into healing work, or reconnecting with our spiritual source? How do we meet ourselves in this space? This moment is unprecedented for Black women. For the first time, the direction we’re heading is undefined. There’s so much beauty in that, but there’s also fear.

I hope that in this space—and in others created by Black women for Black women—you find the resources, tools, and spiritual nudges you need. As we recenter and redirect our lives around ourselves, there will be an abundance of energy returning to us. And with that energy, we can build lives that feel nourishing, authentic, and fully aligned. That’s the vision. And we are deserving of it. Always.

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