As a Black woman raised Christian, I was taught the values of faith and the importance of self-sufficiency. These lessons shaped who I am today, but there’s a deeper issue when these traits are imposed as expectations on Black women. We’re often praised for our resilience and ability to carry it all, but that same narrative is rarely challenged—especially when it’s not reciprocated.
While scrolling through social media recently, I came across a video from a content creator I follow. In the clip, an Indian man was acknowledging the contributions of Black women, speaking on how much black women helped him. It sounded great at first glance, but as I continued to watch, I couldn’t help but feel conflicted. His words unintentionally highlighted something that’s all too common: Black women being praised for how much we give, but not for who we are or for getting loved and cared for in return.
Historically, Black women have been placed in roles where we are expected to be strong, nurturing, and self-sacrificing—often at the expense of our own well-being. This image of the “strong Black woman” may seem empowering on the surface, but it also encourages a dangerous cycle where our needs are constantly deprioritized.
Religious teachings have played a role in reinforcing this narrative. In many Christian communities, Black women are praised for their dedication to family, faith, and community. We’re expected to carry the burdens of others, often with little acknowledgment of our own desires or well-being. But what happens when we’re tired? When we need help? The praise fades, and what’s left is a sense of duty that’s seldom matched by support.
The idea of being a “good work mule” is ingrained in how Black women are often viewed—not only in religious spaces but in society at large. We’re expected to hold everyone up without ever asking, “Who’s holding us up?” It’s a problem when being a strong, independent woman becomes synonymous with being the person who always handles everything. That burden wears us down over time.
The video I watched was just one of many examples where the labor of Black women is appreciated but also expected, sometimes even taken for granted. It reminded me of how often we’re applauded for what we do rather than who we are. It’s an acknowledgment of our efforts, but without the reciprocity we deserve.
Black women deserve more than just being recognized for their work ethic and resilience. We deserve to be seen as whole individuals with needs, dreams, and emotions, just like anyone else. We deserve to receive the same level of care and support that we often give so freely to others.
As I continue to grow and reflect on the messages I’ve internalized over the years, I’ve come to understand the importance of balance. There’s nothing wrong with being self-sufficient or strong, but those traits shouldn’t define us. It’s okay to ask for help, to rest, and to prioritize our own needs. We shouldn’t be expected to be the backbone of every situation, especially when it’s not reciprocated.
In conclusion, I believe it’s time to shift the narrative. Black women deserve to be more than just helpers or work mules. We deserve to live full, balanced lives where our contributions are matched with genuine care and support. It’s time we challenge the outdated expectations and allow ourselves the grace to be human, not just strong.