Unlearning the Strong Black Woman Myth

Women’s History Month: Celebrating Authenticity and Humanity

INTRODUCTION: REDEFINING STRENGTH IN WOMEN’S HISTORY MONTH

She never cried.

She never asked for help.

She never stopped moving — even when her body screamed for rest.

You know her. You may be her.

She is the “Strong Black Woman” — resilient and unbreakable, always holding it together for everyone. This persona is celebrated in movies, quoted in memes, admired at work, and leaned on by family. Yet, beneath that myth lies a human being — exhausted, isolated, and often unseen.

This is not just a cultural trope; it’s a survival method. The narrative is deeply rooted in history, shaped by society, and inherited across generations.

Today, on International Women’s Day, we do not celebrate that myth. Instead, we are unlearning it. Because true strength incorporates softness. Because Black and bi-racial women deserve more than applause for simply surviving — we deserve to feel, to fall, to heal, and to be.

In this blog, we will trace the origins of the Strong Black Woman archetype. We will examine how it affects Black and bi-racial women emotionally, physically, and spiritually. We will explore what it means to lay that mask down — for ourselves and generations to come.

Historical Roots: Where the Myth Began

The myth of the Strong Black Woman didn’t appear overnight. It was created over centuries through exploitation, distortion, and sheer survival.

Enslavement and the Birth of the “Superhuman” Narrative

During the transatlantic slave trade, Black women were not seen as delicate. Instead, they were laborers, breeders, wet nurses, and caretakers. They were forced to bear unbearable physical and emotional burdens. Rather than admiration, the myth of their strength was born from dehumanization.

Enslaved Black women were expected to perform hard labor while enduring abuse and trauma. Their endurance was used to justify their mistreatment — as if suffering somehow proved they were “built for it.”

This legacy endures. The narrative that Black women can “handle more” still influences healthcare outcomes today. Studies show Black women are less likely to have their pain taken seriously by medical professionals — a direct echo of historic bias (Hoffman et al., 2016).

Post-Emancipation to the Civil Rights Era: The Caregiver Archetype

After emancipation, the image of the “mammy” emerged — the cheerful, maternal Black woman who nurtured white families while neglecting her own. This figure became a cultural staple: warm, self-sacrificing, strong — yet devoid of personal vulnerability or ambition.

In reality, many Black women were raising children in poverty, facing segregation, and carrying the emotional weight of entire communities. Despite this, the world praised their “strength” while ignoring their struggles.

By the 1960s and ’70s, Black women became the backbone of civil rights movements — as organizers, mothers, caretakers, and leaders. Even within those movements, however, their emotional needs were often secondary to the cause.

Modern Media and the “Strong Black Woman” Rebrand

The archetype evolved again in the late 20th century, particularly in the U.S. and UK. In TV, film, and popular culture, the Strong Black Woman became a trope:

• She was the no-nonsense boss.

• The sassy best friend.

• The single mother who works three jobs.

• The woman who saves everyone but herself.

  
  

While some portrayals were empowering, they came at a cost: emotional invisibility. The expectation to be endlessly competent, unshakable, and self-sacrificing became a silent prison.

The Cultural Shift We’re Still Waiting For

Across generations and continents — from the Caribbean to the UK to the US — Black and bi-racial women have internalized this myth because they had to. It protected them and helped them endure. However, it also:

• Discouraged emotional expression.

• Stigmatized mental health struggles.

• Pressured women to prioritize others over themselves.

• Created guilt around softness, rest, or asking for help.

  
  

The Strong Black Woman archetype is not an outdated image; it’s a survival mask. Now, we are brave enough to take it off.

The Cost of Carrying It All: How the Myth Hurts Us Today

While the Strong Black Woman myth was built for survival, the toll it takes is undeniable. Today, Black and bi-racial women pay a steep emotional, physical, and psychological price for maintaining this image.

1. Emotional Repression and Isolation

When told to always "have it together," showing vulnerability can feel like failure. Many Black women believe that expressing sadness, fear, or uncertainty will invite judgment or dismissal.

This emotional repression often results in:

• Bottled-up anger and chronic stress.

• Difficulty seeking or receiving help.

• A lack of intimacy in close relationships.

• A belief that pain must be carried silently.

  
  

As psychologist Dr. Joy Harden Bradford states, this emotional silence can become deeply ingrained: “Many Black women have been socialized to believe that strength means suffering without complaint.”

2. Burnout Disguised as Ambition

Black women are often praised for being “strong” and “resilient.” However, this praise can disguise overwork, exhaustion, and untreated trauma. In various settings, many feel they must overperform to be seen as competent.

In the UK, Black women are overrepresented in frontline roles like nursing, where burnout rates are highest. In the U.S., they are among the fastest-growing groups of entrepreneurs yet face significant funding gaps and mental health strain.

Beneath the applause for “doing it all” lies the risk of total collapse.

3. Healthcare Disparities and Mistrust

The myth reappears in healthcare with devastating consequences. Research shows Black women’s pain is often underestimated by healthcare providers. In the UK, Black women are four times more likely to die in childbirth than white women (Source: MBRRACE-UK, 2022). In the U.S., maternal mortality rates echo this disparity.

This isn’t due to biology but systemic bias — the lingering belief that Black women are just “stronger” and can endure more pain.

This myth kills.

4. Mental Health Stigma in the Community

Although mental health awareness is growing, stigma remains a barrier. The expectation to “stay strong” discourages many Black and bi-racial women from seeking therapy or even admitting when they feel overwhelmed.

Terms like “anxiety,” “depression,” and “grief” are often replaced with phrases like:

• “I’m fine.”

• “I just have to push through.”

• “There’s no time to break down.”

  
  

Healing requires honesty. It begins by understanding that strength does not mean never breaking; it means being whole, not heroic.

Unlearning the Myth: A Personal and Collective Liberation

Letting go of the Strong Black Woman myth is not an act of weakness; it’s a profound act of self-liberation. But this process is layered, uncomfortable, and deeply personal. It’s also revolutionary.

1. Permission to Feel

The first step in unlearning the myth is to give yourself permission to be fully human.

This means:

• Crying without apology.

• Resting without guilt.

• Asking for help without shame.

• Feeling joy without fear of losing it.

  
  

Our ancestors didn’t survive so we could suffer in silence. They survived so we could be free — emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

2. Redefining Strength on Our Terms

True strength isn’t about how much you carry; it’s about knowing when to put it down.

Strength can look like:

• Saying “no” without explanation.

• Leaving toxic workspaces or relationships.

• Prioritizing therapy or solitude.

• Letting others support you for once.

  
  

Redefining strength to include softness and self-preservation allows us to rewrite our narrative.

3. Building New Language

The Strong Black Woman myth lacks nuance: we’re either superhuman or invisible. It’s time to create new language for grief, burnout, healing, and joy.

We need to say:

• “I’m not okay, but I’m still worthy.”

• “I need rest, not resilience.”

• “I want softness, not survival.”

  
  

In your homes, workplaces, and friendships — name how you feel and allow others to do the same.

4. Collective Healing Begins in Community

No woman heals alone, and no woman should have to. Spaces like Chrysalis International exist to bridge that isolation. They remind Black and bi-racial women that healing is a shared journey.

When we gather in truth and vulnerability, the myth loses its power. Together, we unlearn. Together, we remember who we were before the world demanded we be everything.

Reclaiming Rest, Reclaiming Ourselves

To unlearn the Strong Black Woman myth means choosing ourselves. It’s about reclaiming the rest that was denied, the softness that was punished, the tears that were suppressed, and the help we were taught to refuse.

We are not superhuman; we are whole. Wholeness includes fragility, emotion, pleasure, and pause.

So this Women’s History Month, let’s not just celebrate Black women’s strength. Let’s honor our humanity.

Let this be the year you lay the mask down — not because you’re giving up, but because you’re finally coming home to yourself.

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Further Reading & References

• Beauboeuf-Lafontant, T. (2009). Behind the Mask of the Strong Black Woman: Voice and the Embodiment of a Costly Performance.

• Harris-Perry, M. V. (2011). Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in America.

• hooks, bell. (2000). All About Love: New Visions.

• MBRRACE-UK (2022). Saving Lives, Improving Mothers’ Care Report.

• Hoffman, K. M. et al. (2016). “Racial bias in pain assessment and treatment recommendations.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

• Therapy for Black Girls – https://therapyforblackgirls.com

• Black Ballad – “Black British Women and the Cost of Being Strong”.

• Mental Health Foundation UK – Reports on racial disparities in wellbeing.

• McKenzie, L. (2022). The Weight of Being Seen: Mental Health & Black Women in Britain.