I’m exhausted. Do you hear me sis? I know you do because I can feel your exhaustion cascading off you like waves. I know you are just as tired as I am. I know that wake up every morning and put on that coat of armor and tape that S to your chest just like I do just to get through your 9 AM meeting.
I know you swallow your real feelings and rage with your morning coffee that you try to make extra sweet with a few packages of Splenda. It’s fake sugar to go along with the fake sweetness in the smile that I PASTE ON MY FACE when I’m asked how I’m doing. Because when I told you the truth that one time last week, that was way more than you wanted to hear and now it’s time to move on until somebody threatens to burn down another building.
I’ll tell you how I’m doing. I’m tired. I am tired of reading all the racist comments on every Black Lives Matter post. I’m tired of seeing at a new corporation get “cancelled” every day because they dance with the devil that benefits them to save some tax coins while supporting a system that systematically has killed other human beings for centuries. I’m tired of watching Black people killed for resisting arrest, or jogging, or sleeping, or…being Black.
I’m tired of explaining why I’m tired.
I’m exhausted and I need a break. Can I practice some self-care, turn off the media, and ignore the news without feeling guilty for not supporting the cause for one day? Can I take the time to try and heal my soul from all the pain I have endured over the years? The rejection of my true self, the racist comments and misdeeds that I’ve faced at work. Can I take the time to mourn the loss of our children’s innocence because we had to talk to them about the murder by someone who’s supposed to help them. Can I take some time to read a book not featuring injustice and violence against my people?
I just need a few weeks to talk to a therapist about why my teeth clench or my hands shake or why my anxiety is so bad I can’t sleep at night? I’m so glad that people want to amplify Black voices, but when I click on the selection of movies that have been curated for that purpose, why do they all have to highlight and glorify our pain. Can I just watch a comedy? I can, but I still feel guilty.
I’m a Black woman and I support the cause just by getting up in the morning and taking care of my family and checking on my friends. I can protest in the street or I can privately donate. I can support Black businesses and give back in my own neighborhood. Does it matter how I do it, as long as the end goal is the same? I want to do it all, but can I?
Some days I think I can’t because I’m EXHAUSTED.
But I can do it all. And I will. All because I am a BLACK WOMAN and we have always done it all even when it was done in silence. And nobody cared and nobody noticed. And when we were the only ones that gave a damn about our Black Boys and Black Men and our Black lives. And we will continue to do it when the fires go out, and the cameras stop rolling, and they forget about us.
I’m tired, but I will do it because I have to.
