The Invisible Black Woman

We’ve been taught to chase what’s loud. To answer every call, respond to every need, and keep showing up for things that no longer show up for us. We call it ambition, loyalty, drive—but sometimes it’s just distraction wearing a designer label.

Here’s the truth: what’s meant for you will not fight for space it already owns. It won’t yell over chaos. It won’t make you feel like you’re missing out just because you’re resting. It knows how to wait for your peace to catch up.

So often, we confuse urgency with purpose. We think the thing that shouts the loudest must be the most important. But alignment rarely raises its voice. It speaks in calm nudges, quiet confirmations, and coincidences that make too much sense to ignore.

You don’t have to sprint toward what’s meant for you. You just have to stop running from your stillness.

And yes, there are people, jobs, and dreams that look like they’re slipping away when you slow down. But if slowing down causes you to lose them, they were never really yours. Because what’s yours won’t compete; it’ll cooperate.

That’s the difference between pressure and peace. Pressure demands performance. Peace allows presence.

For Black women especially, this lesson hits deep. We’ve been told since forever that everything worth having must be fought for: our place, our pay, our respect. But there’s a sacred difference between fighting for yourself and fighting against everything to keep what depletes you. One builds you. The other breaks you.

“What’s meant for you won’t compete for your attention” is permission to trust divine timing, not manufactured urgency. It’s a reminder that peace doesn’t need to shout to be heard.

If the opportunity, the relationship, the vision, or the space can’t honor your boundaries, it’s not meant for you… not yet, maybe not ever. If it truly belongs in your story, it will fit inside your rhythm of rest, not ask you to abandon it.

So today, take your time back. Move slower. Let the world adjust to your pace. If something is truly aligned, it will meet you where you are: centered, whole, and unapologetically selective about what gets your energy.

You are not missing out by choosing peace. You are making room.

And when what’s meant for you arrives, you’ll recognize it instantly—not by how hard it fights for your attention, but by how naturally it holds your peace.

Because what’s meant for you won’t rush you, drain you, or demand that you divide yourself to receive it. It’ll know exactly who you are, and it’ll love the pace you move at.

Until next time, I wish you nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, which are no less fictitious than the deserving creature you are.