Tired Ain’t the Word: The Weight Black Women Carry

There’s a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix.

It’s not the “I need a nap” tired.

It’s the “I’m holding too much and nobody sees it” tired.

The kind that sits in your bones, in your chest, in your spirit.

Black women are exhausted.

Mentally, from constantly calculating how to show up in spaces that were never built for us.

Emotionally, from carrying not just our own feelings, but everyone else’s too.

Physically, from pushing through anyway, because stopping doesn’t always feel like an option.

And still, we show up.

We show up overqualified.

We show up confident.

We show up brilliant.

And somehow… that’s still “too much.”

Too educated, but underpaid.

Too capable, but overlooked.

Too strong, but unsupported.

Make it make sense.

We’ve done everything we were told to do.

Got the degrees.

Built the skills.

Mastered the code-switching.

Softened our tone.

Stretched ourselves thin trying to fit into systems that keep shifting the bar just out of reach.

And yet, doors still close.

Not because we aren’t ready.

But because our presence disrupts comfort.

Because confidence in a Black woman is often read as intimidation.

Because brilliance is threatening when it doesn’t come in the package people expect.

Because being “overqualified” is sometimes just a polite way of saying, you don’t belong here.

So we pivot. Again.

We adjust. Again.

We carry more. Again.

And while we’re doing all of that, we’re also carrying families. Communities. Movements. Generations.

We are the backbone people lean on…while we’re quietly breaking.

There’s this unspoken expectation that Black women will just handle it.

That we’ll figure it out.

That we’ll survive it.

And we do.

But survival is not the same as being supported.

Let’s be real—being “strong” has cost us.

t has cost us rest.

It has cost us softness.

It has cost us the space to fall apart without consequences.

And the truth is… we’re tired of being strong all the time.

We deserve to be held too.

We deserve ease.

We deserve to exist in spaces where we don’t have to shrink, translate, or prove.

We deserve to be seen—not just for what we produce, but for who we are.

Because behind the degrees, the titles, the resilience…there are women who are trying to breathe.

Women who are navigating systems that weren’t designed for their success.

Women who are doing their best not to drown under the weight of expectations, inequities, and invisible labor.

Women who are tired.

So if you’re reading this and you feel that exhaustion in your spirit, this is your reminder:

You’re not imagining it.

You’re not “too sensitive.”

And you’re definitely not alone.

But here’s the part we don’t say enough;

You don’t have to carry everything.

Not today.

Not by yourself.

Because even the strongest shoulders deserve to rest.