The Invisible Black Woman

So, a quick recap: after dealing with ongoing knee issues and committing to physical therapy, I decided to incorporate swimming into my routine. Although swimming has always been a happy place for me, finding a good pool was a journey. I first tried a local, rusty pool, only to pivot to a better one through the city’s parks and recreation. At the new pool, I had to face unspoken rules about where I belonged, which got me thinking…

Let’s talk about something that I’m sure a lot of us can relate to: this idea that people want to pigeonhole you, put you in a box, tell you what lane you belong in based on how you look or what they assume about you. Especially as Black women, we’re no strangers to being categorized before we even open our mouths. Folks see us, size us up in seconds, and immediately decide where they think we should stay.

Just like that day at the pool, where I was confidently doing my laps in the deep end, feeling good, feeling full well like I belonged there, and then all of a sudden, the looks started. Those swimmers—let’s be real, most of them didn’t look like me—sizing me up with their little speedos and caps, like, What is she doing over here? I could feel the energy shift the second they showed up. It wasn’t verbal, but it didn’t have to be. That unspoken rule about who was allowed in the deep end hung in the air like humidity in the summer. It was thick, uncomfortable, and oppressive.

Now, here’s the thing: I could swim. I was qualified to be there, but to them, I didn’t fit their mental picture of who should be in that lane. I wasn’t supposed to be doing backstrokes and breaststrokes like I owned the place, because, in their eyes, I didn’t belong there.

That moment, for me, was bigger than just swimming laps. It was a reminder of how we, as Black women, get placed in these metaphorical lanes every day. At work, in social settings, in spaces that are predominantly white, or even just male-dominated—there’s always this sense that people expect us to stay in the shallow end. You know, the part where it’s safer, where there’s less risk, where we can’t make waves. But heaven forbid we venture into the deep end, where we’re swimming alongside folks who didn’t expect us to be there in the first place. All of a sudden, our very presence becomes a disruption.

But let me say this loud and clear: you belong wherever you damn well please. Yes, I say this even as I left the deep end with my tail tucked between my legs and vowed never again. When it comes to the workplace, you ain’t fittin to tell me where the hell I belong. What can I say, I’m a ball of contradictions sometimes. Nah, truth be told, if I were half my size, I would absolutely be coming back again and again and daring them to say something. And yes, I understand that there’s several things there I gotta unpack, but that’s for another time, mmkay!?

Just because someone else can’t see your potential, your qualifications, or your brilliance doesn’t mean you have to dim it. And the idea that we’re supposed to just stay in one lane because we don’t fit someone’s preconceived notions? That’s not how this works.

You see, the problem isn’t that we’re in the wrong lane. The problem is that they’ve already made up their minds about what lanes we’re allowed to be in. And when you start stepping out of the shallow end and into deeper waters—whether that’s a new position at work, a leadership role, or even just speaking up in a space where Black women’s voices aren’t usually heard—folks get real uncomfortable. Why? Because they’ve already decided what your limits are, and you’re out here proving them wrong just by showing up.

This is especially true in the workplace. How many times have we been told, explicitly or implicitly, that we should just “be grateful” for the position we have? Or that we should stick to the safe route, the roles we’re expected to take, and not venture too far out of our lane because, well, you know…?

I’ve been there. I’ve had people look at me sideways the second I walk into a meeting where I’m the only Black woman at the table. And y’all already know what that means. The second you start talking, they’re surprised. They’re shocked that you know what you’re talking about, that you’ve got expertise and solutions, and that you’re not afraid to challenge the status quo.

But instead of shrinking or sticking to their version of safe, what do we do? We keep showing up, we keep thriving, and we keep swimming in whatever damn lane we choose.

So, let’s talk about what it means to claim your space in the proverbial deep end. It’s more than just breaking the stereotypes or defying expectations. It’s about refusing to let other people’s limited perceptions define you. It’s about showing up in places and spaces where people don’t think you belong and owning it like you’ve been there all along.

We know our worth. We know what we bring to the table. And whether that’s at the deep end of the pool or the head of the conference room table, we’re not about to let anyone dictate where we do or don’t belong. People will try to gatekeep, to make you feel like you’re overstepping or out of place. But that’s their insecurity talking, not yours.

So, when you find yourself in spaces where people are giving you the side-eye, like, Who does she think she is? Remember this: you belong there. And if it makes them uncomfortable, well, that’s on them. The lane you’re in? It’s yours, and you don’t need anyone’s permission to swim in it.

Now, let’s be real. Claiming your space in the deep end doesn’t come without its challenges. People will push back. Sometimes, they’ll outright try to shove you back into the lane they think you belong in. But here’s what I’ve learned: you don’t have to engage with every person who tries to challenge your presence. You don’t owe them an explanation for why you’re there.

Just like when I had to make my awkward exit from the pool after realizing I was in the “wrong end,” I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I was in the wrong place. I just needed to remind myself that I had every right to be swimming in the deep end, whether they liked it or not. Sure, I had to adjust and find my way to the stairs without getting in the way of their competitive lanes, but they didn’t have the right to make me feel like I didn’t belong. I wish I remembered that when I was climbing out of the pool, but I digress.

The same goes for life and work. Sometimes you’ll have to navigate the obstacles and the sideways glances, but never let anyone make you feel like you’re out of your depth. You’ve got the skills, the knowledge, and the experience to be there. You earned your spot, and no one can take that from you.

So, the next time you find yourself in a space where you feel like you’re the only one who looks like you, talks like you, or operates like you—whether that’s in the deep end of a pool or the top floor of a skyscraper—don’t let it shake your confidence. Don’t let it make you second-guess why you’re there. You’ve put in the work. You’ve got the credentials. You belong in every lane, every space, every room you step into.

And for those who can’t handle it? That’s not your problem. Keep swimming, keep thriving, and keep making waves. Because every time you do, you’re not just proving them wrong—you’re proving yourself right.

Until next time, I wish you nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, which are no less fictitious than the fabulous, fantastic, fierce phenom you are.