The Invisible Black Woman

Sometimes silence is your best and only weapon.

I’m betting a lot of y’all reading this already know where I’m coming from with this one. We’ve all been there: finding ourselves in situations where we know we could speak up, but the smarter move is to stay quiet. You know, that moment where you feel the urge to say something, but deep down, you know your words would cause more trouble than they’d fix? And when it comes to work, especially in spaces where power dynamics are all the rage, silence can often be the difference between keeping your peace or losing it.

Let’s talk about why that is, because, lawd, it ain’t easy.

For me, it took a long time to understand that silence, when used properly, isn’t a sign of weakness. We grow up in a world that glorifies speaking up, standing out, and making your voice heard. And trust me, I’m not saying there’s no merit in that. Sometimes you absolutely have to speak your mind, check the people who need to be checked, and advocate for yourself. But not every situation calls for your two cents or sometimes your whole dollar. That’s especially true when you’re dealing with supervisors, leaders, or folks who already think they know everything.

Even when they don’t.

I’m real good in mixed crowds. You could throw me into a meeting with 50 or more strangers, and I’m not worried. I’ll observe, take mental notes, read the room, and find my flow without breaking a sweat. When it comes to navigating those kinds of environments, I more than got it. I know how to make my presence known without making a spectacle. I blend in just enough to make folks feel comfortable, and then I can shine when the time is right.

But throw me into a 1:1 situation with a supervisor who’s trying me? Whew. All that strategy flies out the window, and my mouth will betray me every damn time. I know some of y’all are nodding your heads right now because you’ve been there too. It’s like all that composure I’ve built up suddenly evaporates the second I realize someone in a position of power is gaslighting me or trying to make me feel like I’m doing too much. I’m supposed to bite my tongue, but instead, I find myself saying exactly what’s on my mind and let me tell you… It rarely ends well. And to be very clear, I’m not saying I read them for the filth. But some of y’all know exactly what I mean when I say this: when it comes to words, my petty is pretty and oh so flawless. I can read you for the filth in vernacular and language you can relate to and understand, calmly, with a smile, and without breaking a sweat.

And that, my fellow peeps who truly get what I mean by that, is way, way worse than going off loud and rowdy.

I remember one time in particular. I had this supervisor, let’s call her Susan. Now, Susan wasn’t terrible. In fact, she could be nice… in small doses. But here’s the thing about folks like Susan. They’re all good until you start questioning them or pushing back on the nonsense they try to throw your way. And boy, did she love to throw nonsense at the wall to see if it stuck.

One day, we were in a meeting, and she made a decision that I knew wasn’t going to work. I’d been in the department longer than her, I had more experience, and I understood the complexities of the task at hand way better than she did. But you know how it is. Some folks in leadership think that title means they’re automatically smarter than everyone else in the room. So, after the meeting, I pulled her aside, just me and her, and explained why I thought her approach wasn’t going to work.

And for those of y’all wondering, I used all the right buzzwords and prodding questions. I was not accusatory. I used “we statements” and all the other garbage they teach you in those useless, mandatory, highly overpriced workplace trainings. I said what I said. At the end of the day, it ain’t the message but the messenger. And if you know, you know. If you don’t, don’t worry about it, just keep reading.

Now, y’all, this is where I went wrong. I should have left it alone. I knew she wasn’t going to listen to me. I knew she wasn’t the type to take feedback, especially not from someone she already felt insecure around. But instead of letting it go and letting her fail on her own, I pressed the issue. I laid out my case and made it clear that I knew what I was talking about.

And what did Susan do? Exactly what I should have predicted. She got defensive. She didn’t want to admit that someone under her could have a better idea. And so, instead of listening, she doubled down, made me feel small, and let her ego drive the conversation. I walked away from that 1:1 pissed off, but I also realized something important: silence would have been my best weapon in that situation. Not because I was wrong, but because I wasn’t going to win that fight. Not then. Not like that.

It took me a while to understand that silence, in certain situations, is not about surrendering. It’s about strategizing. It’s about knowing when to fight your battles and when to let people hang themselves with their own mistakes. Because the truth of the matter is silence can be your ally, especially when you’re dealing with people who are hellbent on misunderstanding you.

And I know some of y’all are probably thinking, But ain’t you always saying we should stand up for ourselves!? You’re right, I do. I believe in speaking truth to power. I believe in not letting people walk all over you. But what I’ve also learned is that sometimes, speaking up in the wrong moment can come back to haunt you. Especially when you’re dealing with people in positions of authority who aren’t open to feedback. You can waste your breath, damage your reputation, and end up in worse shape than before.

So how do we overcome this? How do we know when to speak up and when to let silence do the heavy lifting? Here’s the trick: it’s all about reading the room. It’s about understanding the dynamics at play and being smart enough to know when your words will have an impact and when they won’t.

For example, if you’re in a room full of folks who respect you, value your input, and want to see you thrive, speak up. Share your ideas, challenge the status quo, make your voice heard. But if you’re in a room—or worse, a 1:1—where you know the person in charge is more concerned about their ego than the actual results, sometimes it’s best to fall back. Let them face-plant and simultaneously belly flop. Let them show their hand. Because eventually, they’ll reveal themselves for who they really are, and you won’t have to say a word.

Let me break it down even further. I’ve learned that there are three types of silence, and when used properly, each one can be powerful as hell. I’m sure none of them will be breaking news, but here’s how I bucket them:

1. “I’m gon go head let you talk.” You ever been in a conversation where someone is just rambling on, digging themselves deeper and deeper into a hole? That’s when you hit them with the “I’m gon go head let you talk.” You let them say everything they need to say, and you don’t interrupt. You just sit there, watching them unravel, knowing full well that by the time they’re done, they will have told on themselves without you having to lift a finger or in this case, utter a single word. That’s the kind of silence that’s rooted in observation. You’re not engaging because you don’t need to. You’ve already won.
2. “I’m not fittin to give you what you want.” This one’s for all the folks who love to bait you into arguments or power struggles. You know the type—the ones who throw shade, the ones who make slick comments, the ones who go out of their way to provoke you. When you hit them with silence, it throws them off their game. They want you to react. They’re expecting you to defend yourself, to get loud, to lose your cool. But when you stay silent? When you give them nothing? That silence is deafening. And it’s a power move.
3. “I know what I’m doing.” This is the silence of confidence. When you know you’re right, when you know you’ve got the receipts, when you know you’re handling your business, sometimes the best thing you can do is stay quiet and let your actions speak for themselves. You don’t need to convince anyone of your value. You don’t need to explain yourself. Your work, your results, your brilliance will do that for you. This silence is rooted in self-assurance. It’s knowing that the people who matter will see what you’re doing, and the people who don’t? Well, they weren’t worth your time anyway.

I’ve learned that one of the biggest mistakes we make is feeling like we need to respond to everything. Like we need to defend ourselves against every slight, every insult, every challenge. Every troll that comments on our timeline. You don’t. Not everything requires a response. Not every battle needs to be fought with words. Sometimes, silence is the best response because it forces the other person to sit with their own mess.

And trust me, folks who are used to stirring up drama can’t stand silence. They thrive on reactions. They need you to get riled up because it validates them. But when you don’t give them that satisfaction? When you refuse to engage in their nonsense? That’s when they start to unravel.

And let’s not even get started on the power of silence in meetings. Whew, the number of times I’ve sat in a meeting, listening to people talking in circles, making decisions that don’t make sense, and instead of jumping in, I’ve just sat there, nodding along, knowing full well that what they were saying was going to blow up in their faces. Sometimes, you gotta let people fail. Not because you want them to, but because they need to learn. And when they do? Your silence will speak volumes. Pro tip for those who get called out for being quiet in a meeting and asked for their opinion. Hit ‘em with the “I look forward to seeing the end result,” with a nod and smile. And if they said something that’s especially FUBAR, tell ‘em you’re digesting what was shared.

It’s funny because people always talk about the power of words, but they forget the power of silence. Silence can be louder than any speech. It can be more cutting than any insult. It can be more impactful than any argument. And when you learn to wield that power, you become unstoppable.

So the next time you find yourself in a situation where you’re tempted to speak up, to defend yourself, to clap back, ask yourself this: Is it worth it? Will my words make a difference? Or will my silence speak louder?

Because sometimes, silence, it truly is golden.

Until next time, I wish you nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, which are no less fictitious than the saying-a-whole-lot-without-saying-a-word queen you are.