Dear Black Woman,
I see you sis! I see the weight you carry on your shoulders and the quiet strength you summon each day to keep going. I see the dreams you’ve tucked away, the tears you’ve cried in silence, and the moments when doubt whispered that you weren’t enough. I see the battles you’ve fought, the scars you’ve hidden, and the love you’ve poured into everyone else—while leaving so little for yourself.
I know what it’s like to feel voiceless, invisible, and unworthy. I know the pain of growing up without the steady arms of a father and the heartbreak of watching a mother lose herself to her struggles. I know the deep ache of being the strong one when you feel anything but strong. For years, I doubted myself. I feared my own reflection, questioned my worth, and wondered if I’d ever be free of the insecurities that kept me shackled. I believed the lies that said I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, or capable of building the life I wanted. And as a single mother, there were times I felt crushed beneath the weight of responsibility, wondering if I’d ever have enough to give to my child—let alone to myself.
But let me tell you something, sis: you are resilient. Resilience doesn’t mean you won’t feel the pain or the fear. It means you’ll rise anyway. It means you’ll take every ounce of struggle, every ounce of heartbreak, and every ounce of doubt—and turn it into something beautiful. You will find the strength to break generational cycles, to silence the voice of fear, and to rewrite the narrative that says you have to settle for less. I know because I’ve lived it.
The military taught me discipline, but life taught me resilience. I’ve faced rejection, endured sleepless nights, and navigated uncharted waters with nothing but faith to guide me. And though the journey wasn’t easy, I learned that resilience isn’t about being unbreakable—it’s about knowing you can mend yourself every time you’re broken.
Sis, I need you to know this: You are worthy of love, joy, and a life that sets your soul on fire. You are not defined by your past, your circumstances, or the lies others have told you. You have the power to rise above the limitations placed on you and create a life that reflects the queen you are. Take a moment to breathe. Look in the mirror and tell yourself, I am enough. Say it again and again until it sinks into the deepest parts of your soul. Surround yourself with women who remind you of your light, who celebrate your wins, and who hold you up when the weight feels too heavy. You are not alone in this journey.
As a sister, as a single mother, as a woman who has walked through fire and come out
stronger, I stand with you. Your story, your strength, your voice—it matters. You are the legacy of those who came before you and the hope for those who will come after. Walk boldly, Black Woman.
Speak your truth. Love yourself fiercely. And when life tries to knock you down, remind yourself: I was made for this. I am resilience.
With love and unwavering belief in you,
Tomeka Jones
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