There’s this “strong Black woman” trope that hovers over me like an unmet expectation. Yes I am a strong, powerful, and resilient Black woman. I was even raised to project that image. But sometimes a sista gotta feel her feels and fall apart. I need the time and space to give into the tears, fears, and frustrations without pretending like I’ve got my sh*t together all the time. ‘Cause I don’t! I need a safe space for vulnerability, realness, and honesty. And for that, I treasure my sister-friends and my self-care rituals; deep and meaningful connections with a select few and my (higher)self. That’s where I got my support in 2021.