The Invisible Black Woman

2025 stretched and broke me in ways I didn’t think were possible. And yet 2026 came in and said, “hold my beer”—but that’s a story for another day (but I do get into it a bit in my last post).

I spent most of the year in silence. Afraid to share parts of myself I longed to share because the veil was lifted between this persona and the one I carry in real life—for some.

I looked back and wondered if I made a mistake by divulging to the teeniest handful of folks who the person behind the mask is. And in some ways, I don’t regret it.

In others, I do. Because now everything I share gets dissected. It becomes a think piece or a vantage point from which people think they know know me. It offers access without intimacy. Without the need to check in or call because all they need to do is check the blog.

And in part, I’m grateful. I didn’t start this blog so I’d have something to talk about while shooting the shit with people that know me in real life. Or to provide conversation fodder to those who feel I at times hold them at arm’s length.

The goal has always been basic and primal: to get the poison out. The poison of the abuse, the neglect, the callousness, the lies, the hurt… the list is too long to itemize.

But my goal has never been to shame or call out or air a list of grievances. It was always to allow someone else, who perhaps walked a parallel path, to be seen.

More than anything, I want any invisible Black woman or girl who has had to hide parts of themselves to feel seen. To be, well, visible. If to no one else, to that beautiful reflection that stares back in the mirror.

And if you don’t identify as a Black woman or Black girl, but see yourself in these words I write—and can be reverent of this space without centering yourself—you’re welcome, too. Some people have this idea that I center Black women to the dismissal of all others, but that is so far from the truth. And those that get it get it. And those that don’t… well, you get the point.

So despite the fear and the knowing that not everyone who knows me the person and me the writer in this space tunes in for the purest of reasons. Despite knowing that some of what I will share is going to cut some the deepest, I’m letting go of those burdens. They are not mine to carry.

Consider this your fair warning to walk away from any future perceived offenses or hurts because I’m going back to my roots. Back to sharing the truth transparently and unvarnished.

And if you see yourself in these words and wonder if I could possibly maybe be talking about you, chalk it up to pure coincidence.

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