A Black Girl Wrote This

Joy isn’t a destination. It’s a decision. Make it.

---

“Stop waiting on peace to feel good—joy don’t need permission.”

A lot of us were taught—especially as Black women, as mothers, as overachievers—that we can’t relax, can’t celebrate, can’t enjoy ourselves until everything is calm, everything is paid, everyone else is okay.

We associate joy with permission:

• “I’ll feel better once this chaos dies down.”
• “I’ll take a break when I’m done with everything.”
• “I’ll enjoy this when I’m not stressed.”

But the gag is: that peace we’re waiting for?
It might never come.
Life might always be noisy. There might always be something undone. And at the end of the day? Joy doesn’t have to wait for peace.

You can choose joy in the middle of the mess.
You can claim joy without the perfect conditions.

Stop waiting on peace to feel good.

Joy doesn’t need perfect timing. It doesn’t need a clean to-do list. It doesn’t require the bills to be paid or the relationship to be stable. Joy doesn’t need permission.

You keep thinking rest will feel better when things are calm. That joy will come easier once the dust settles. But fren… what if the dust never settles? What if peace is a long way off? You gonna keep postponing joy forever?

Because the hard truth is:
You’re not just tired. You’re joy-deprived. And it’s starting to show.

You wake up. You grind. You survive. You serve. You scroll. You crash. You repeat.
You keep saying joy is coming later… after the deadline, after the kids are grown, after the glow-up, after the healing.

But you do know joy is a choice, right?

Not a reward.
Not a luxury.
Not a thing that shows up when life gets easier.
A choice.

One that your nervous system is begging you to make before burnout becomes your baseline. Lets get into it.

---

1. You Were Not Put Here Just to Pay Bills and Be Exhausted

The message: Stop waiting on peace to feel good.
You’ve made joy a prize for performance. A reward for strength. Something that only belongs to the version of you who has her life all the way together. And that’s the lie that’s killing you slow.

We inherited a belief that joy must be earned. That we need to suffer first. Grind first. Heal first. THEN maybe, if there’s time… we can feel something soft. But that’s not joy. That’s capitalism talking in your ear like a hating ass ex. That’s generational trauma telling you rest is for the privileged. That’s burnout cosplaying as resilience.

And it’s all a lie.

We watched our grandmothers hustle for joy and never get to hold it. We watched women we loved, tired and exhausted, still dragging themselves to cook a full meal for everybody else. We watched them keep house for grown adults who never lifted a finger. Watched them feed people with empty fridges. Take folks in who didn’t deserve their kindness. Carry whole communities on their back with no one to rub it when it ached. They were always moving. Always giving. Always “fine.”

And then one day… they weren’t.
And still? They wouldn’t sit down.
Wouldn’t let joy have them. Wouldn’t let softness stay. Wouldn’t let anyone take care of them, even when their body was breaking.

Because they didn’t know how.
Because no one showed them they could.
Because they were taught that joy is selfish and rest is a sin.

And now? We’re breaking the curse.

🔥 The Tea: Joy is not a luxury. It’s your birthright.
And every time you postpone it, you teach your body that happiness isn’t safe unless everything else is done first.

---

2. You’ve Made a Habit of Postponing Joy

…and it’s not even your fault—but it is your responsibility now.

You keep putting joy on layaway.
Telling yourself:
“After the next bill gets paid…”
“After this deadline…”
“After the weight comes off…”
“After I finally get a break…”

But that break? Keeps running late. And your joy? Keeps getting pushed to the back of the line.

Let’s name it:
This isn’t laziness. It’s learned survival.

We were taught to earn our joy. To perform for peace. To feel guilty for softness unless we’d suffered first. Because capitalism doesn’t want you rested. Capitalism wants you exhausted, overextended, and emotionally bankrupt and still clocking in. It convinced us that joy is a luxury. That rest is a privilege. That play is for people with trust funds.

🔥 The Tea: The world profits from your burnout. It applauds your hustle while draining your humanity.

But let’s be clear: Joy is not irresponsible. Rest is not lazy.
You can be a woman who shows up and still say:
“I am allowed to enjoy my life before it’s perfect.”

Because joy is not the dessert at the end of your suffering. It’s part of the damn meal. And you don’t have to wait until everything is spotless to take a bite. You want to know why you’re always on edge? Always so easily triggered? Always one minor inconvenience away from a full breakdown?

Because you keep skipping the joy your nervous system needs to regulate.
Because you haven’t given yourself softness in weeks—maybe months.
Because you keep treating peace like it has to be earned, instead of something you are already worthy of.

And fren, your joy is not a reward for being good.
It’s a requirement for staying human.

---

3. Joy Can (and Should) Exist in the Mess

It doesn’t have to be perfect to be worth it.

You keep waiting for joy to feel earned. For peace to make sense. You keep thinking joy will finally feel safe once everything’s handled—once your trauma is fully processed, your home is spotless, your body looks like a Pinterest board, and your inbox is at zero.

But here’s the thing, Bookie:
Life is never going to slow down long enough for joy to feel convenient.
So stop asking joy to wait on your healing.

Joy is part of the healing.

You can be in grief and go dancing.
You can be in therapy and throw a picnic for yourself.
You can have bills due and take a bubble bath with your phone on Do Not Disturb.

✨ Joy doesn’t mean everything’s okay.
It means you chose yourself anyway.

---

🔥 The Tea: Choosing joy when life is messy is not delusion—it’s defiance.

It’s a soft rebellion.
A refusal to let struggle be the only thing you feel.

And for Black women? Joy is not just self-care. It’s reparations.

We are not our grandmothers’ unpaid labor.
We are not our mothers’ emotional dumpsters.
We are not here to survive beautifully. We are here to live freely.

Joy is resistance.
It is rebellion.
It is revolutionary softness in a world that keeps demanding our strength.

So light the damn candle. Put some salmon in your your grilled cheese. Buy the flowers for yourself. Say “no” to the thing that drains you just because. Stop answering the phone for people who mean you no good and never have anything good to say. And do it all with your edges laid, your playlist bumping, and your peace in hand.

Because you don’t owe the world your suffering.
You owe yourself a life that feels good.

4. Joy When You’re Neurodivergent, Overworked, or Healing

It doesn’t always look like dancing in the kitchen. Sometimes it looks like “I made it through the day.” And that’s enough.

Everybody talks about joy like it’s this big, bright, glittering moment. But for some of us? Joy is a quiet survival. A gentle exhale. A soft nod to ourselves in the mirror that says:
“You’re still here. You did it.”

If you’re neurodivergent, chronically overwhelmed, or in the thick of healing —
joy doesn’t come easy. It takes work. Intention. Sometimes it takes everything in you to even want it.

So let’s redefine joy for us.

---

If You’re Neurodivergent:

Joy might look like:

• Wearing the same comfy outfit for the third day in a row.
• Hyperfixating on something small that lights you up.
• Creating a routine that makes you feel safe.
• Saying no to social plans without guilt.
• Being in a room that finally doesn’t overstimulate you.

Joy isn’t loud.
It’s the quiet hum of “I can breathe here.”

---

If You’re Overworked:

Joy might look like:

• Taking a real lunch break. Sitting down. No phone. No emails.
• Saying “no” without offering a full TED Talk explanation.
• Letting the laundry wait one more day and choosing rest.
• Getting in your car and screaming to your favorite playlist because you needed to let it out.

Joy doesn’t have to be pretty.
It just has to feel like yours.

---

If You’re Healing:

Joy might look like:

• Crying and not apologizing for it.
• Feeling something other than numbness for the first time in a while.
• Laughing and then feeling guilty—and choosing to laugh anyway.
• Setting one boundary and honoring it without explanation.

Joy, when you’re healing, isn’t about happiness.
It’s about aliveness. It’s about proof that you still get to feel good things—even while you’re figuring everything else out.

---

🔥 The Tea: Your joy doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. You don’t need it to be Instagram-worthy. You just need it to be honest. And accessible. And yours.

Joy doesn’t always mean big. It just means real.

So if all you did today was take your meds, drink some water, or sit in the sun for 5 minutes—that counts fren. And we celebrate that here.

---

5. How to Reclaim Joy in the Middle of Everything

Because waiting for “later” is how joy dies slowly.

Joy isn’t a luxury.
It’s not a vacation.
It’s not a reward for surviving something traumatic.

Joy is a daily decision.
And reclaiming it doesn’t mean you ignore your pain. It means you stop waiting for the pain to be gone before you give yourself a life worth living.

---

Start small. Start messy. Start anyway.

You don’t need 3 hours of free time.
You don’t need money in the bank.
You don’t need your life to be peaceful.

You need intention.
You need 3 minutes.
You need a moment where you say: I matter enough to feel something soft today.

---

Real-Life Joy Practices (That Don’t Feel Like Another Chore):

✔️ Romanticize something boring.
Turn dishwashing into a vibe. Put on a playlist. Light a candle. Make it sensory.

✔️ Write a joy list.
What makes you laugh? What makes you sigh in relief? What do you actually enjoy? Keep it close. Use it often.

✔️ Pause before numbing.
Next time you reach for the scroll, the snack, the shutdown? Ask: What would bring me joy right now instead of distraction?

✔️ Leave one thing undone… and go do something fun instead.
Yep. Abandon the to-do list. Joy deserves to interrupt your grind sometimes.

✔️ Say “yes” to something your inner child would pick.
Color. Watch cartoons. Dance like nobody’s recording it. Play. Let her out.

🔥 The Tea: If your joy has to be earned, you’ll never feel like you deserve it.
Start taking it in small doses. Daily doses. No more waiting for perfect peace. No more needing a reason.

Joy is the reason.

…and she’s reason enough.

---

✨ Affirmation of the Day:

I don’t have to earn joy. I am allowed to feel it fully, freely, and frequently—because my existence alone is enough.

---

---

💬 Join the Conversation:

• When did you stop believing you deserved to enjoy your life?
• What’s one tiny joy you can add to your day today?
• What does joy look like for you right now?

---