Strong Black Woman (A Rant)

What does it mean to be a “strong black woman”?

Seriously?

A label, I didn’t pin for myself, but society has placed on me.

I didn’t choose to be cold, to be difficult.

I didn’t choose to be cross.

I didn’t choose to reason and bargen and settle for less than my worth.

I work, I decide what’s best for my family and I. I manage and manipulate, I stand firm in my cause for the people who need voices.

Then, I find a corner for me to cry in.

Alone

In this corner there is no support

No one to listen, to find and lift the burdens that have been placed on me.

I feel.

I feel vulnerable, like dying flesh in the desert waiting for vultures.

But my vulnerability is a joke.

It’s mistaken for desperation.

But you would be desperate too if you were to stand where I stand

To be looked over

Your cries ignored

Your anger left in flames with only vinegar to quench,

Your happiness is of no importance to anyone

I am not a strong black woman

I am a women, whose song that needs to be sung,

A women who yearns for affection, for protection.

I am a women who is in need and is deserving of love