A Black Girl Wrote This

There was a time when I thought that survival was all. That pushing through, showing up, doing everything, and being everything for everyone made me “strong”. I wore exhaustion like a badge of honor, convinced that my ability to endure was proof of my worth. Convinced that if I wasn’t carrying the weight of the world, was I even doing enough?

But the more I grow, the more I realize that survival is not living. It’s not joy. It’s not peace. It’s a holding pattern, a place where you exist but never thrive. And unlearning that? Whew, it’s a journey.

I grew up in an environment where survival was the priority. And by any means necessary. Where you didn’t depend on anyone, didn’t ask for help, and didn’t show vulnerability. The message was clear: figure it out, keep moving, and never let them see you struggle. Emotions were something you dealt with in private, not something you shared. And whether I wanted to or not, I absorbed that. It taught me that life was about getting through, not enjoying. That rest was for people who had the privilege of security. That softness was a weakness you couldn’t afford. And now? I’m unlearning every bit of it.

Here are five things I’m learning as I shift from survival to softness, from just existing to actually living:

1. Rest is Not Weakness.

I used to feel guilty resting—like I was falling behind or being lazy. Especially as a single mother with ADHD who procrastinates like I get paid for it, rest felt like failure. Like I was being irresponsible.

So I overcompensated. I pushed through exhaustion. I kept moving, kept doing, kept giving. Even when my body was screaming for a break, even when my mind was unraveling, I convinced myself that stopping was not an option. Rest would only set me back.

But rest? Rest is the reset. Rest is the thing that keeps me going, not the thing that slows me down. Rest is power. It is not a luxury; it is a necessity.

And most importantly, I deserve rest. Not because I’ve earned it. Not because I’ve reached some imaginary productivity quota. But simply because I am human. And so do you.

2. Softness is Not Submission.

For the longest time, I thought being soft meant being a doormat. That if I let my guard down, if I let myself be vulnerable, I’d be taken advantage of. That kindness was a currency and people would only use it to get what they wanted from me. And to be honest with you, a lot of that happened. I was taken advantage of. I was used and mistreated. My kindness did get me treated like a pushover.

So I toughened up—somewhat. I built walls. I said yes out of obligation, not because I wanted to. I stayed quiet when I should have spoken up. I accepted what was given instead of demanding what I deserved. None of which sounds like I ever got out of “pushover” mode when you think about it. My exterior was hard, but on the inside, I was still struggling.

Softness is not about letting people walk all over you—it’s about realizing you don’t have to walk through life with your fists up all the time. It’s about knowing when to stand your ground and when to let go. It’s about allowing yourself the freedom to breathe, to feel, to be. Choosing softness doesn’t mean choosing weakness; it means choosing yourself.

3. Boundaries are Not Betrayal.

I used to think setting boundaries would make me selfish. That telling people no would make me lose them. And sometimes, it did. But the right people? The ones who truly care? They don’t leave just because you respect yourself.

So I stopped being available to people who only called when they needed something. I stopped over-explaining my decisions, stopped giving endless chances, stopped making room for people who wouldn’t do the same for me.

Boundaries don’t isolate you; they protect you. They keep you from pouring from an empty cup. They teach people how to love you properly. And if someone gets mad about your boundaries, that’s not your problem—it’s theirs.

You do not owe anyone unlimited access to you. Not even the people you love. Love and access are not the same thing.

4. I Deserve Help, Not Just Hustle.

I was raised to believe that crying wont fix anything. That nobody was coming to save or help me. That if I wanted something done right, I had to do it myself. And while at it, work twice as hard just to get half of what you need. You can go in debt for the rest later.

Hyper-independence became my shield. I learned to do everything on my own, not because I wanted to, but because I thought I had to. Because relying on people meant inviting disappointment. Because if I fell apart, who would put me back together?

But hyper-independence is just another form of survival mode. And it is exhausting.

I am learning to ask for help before I am drowning. To lean on people who genuinely want to support me. To trust that I don’t have to carry everything alone.

Needing help does not make me weak. It makes me human. And humans are meant to exist in community, not isolation. Everyone is not going to disappoint you. (or me)

5. My Value Isn’t in What I Produce—It’s in Who I Am.

For so long, I had tied my worth to how much I can do for others. If I’m useful, they’ll keep me around. If I’m helpful, they’ll love me. If I was always available, always giving, always doing, then I was valuable.

But the truth? People will start to see you as a resource, not a person. And when you stop giving, they stop showing up. That’s not love. That’s convenience.

I am learning that I am worthy even when I am resting. Even when I am not productive. Even when I am still. I am not just valuable because of what I do—I am valuable because of who I am. Period. I am enough just as I am. 

And so are you. 🤎

I am worthy even when I am resting. Even when I am not productive. Even when I am still. I am not just valuable because of what I do—I am valuable because of who I am.

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I know I’m not alone in this.

If you’re on this journey too, know that you deserve softness, rest, help, and love that doesn’t require you to constantly prove your worth.

We are more than what we endure.

We deserve to live, not just survive.

So tell me, what’s something you’re unlearning right now?