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The Essence of a Black Woman, Pt II

Sit down for a moment would you. Imagine a little girl whom never understood what the big deal was in becoming a woman. She didn’t have the same admiration for growth. To be Grown! She could not wrap her mind around the thought ‘I can’t wait til I move out’ like the rest of her peers. Where was she going?

She grew up with her mother and sisters in the city of Newark, New Jersey. The city of survival; watching her mother carry the burden of motherhood, loss of those closest to her, and dreams of her daughters making a name for themselves.


However, I had the lightest clue of what womanhood was outside of the bubble created to protect me. I didn’t realize I needed protection. My mother knew better!

Womanhood felt like a task from where I stood. As a young woman, I associated it with motherhood or life outside your mama’s house.

I had so many questions. Like what if the little girl (me) hadn’t experienced all of life’s lessons to master the journey that is womanhood.

I knew mothers, not motherhood. I knew sisters, not sisterhood.I knew ‘grown’, not growth.

And Black womanhood. It was the unspoken journey. Our Blackness, you ignored. But I couldn’t!