I started my blog, Write Some Shit, with Black Women It’s Okay To Take Off Your Cape this year. In just a few days, thousands of women read the blog and reached out to me, letting me know I had captured their feelings. Through their messages, I realized how profoundly hurt Black women were. I understood that many Black women simply existed in a world where we would always be exhausted, overwhelmed, and burnt out. That was the expectation. We could see the life we wanted just ahead of us, a place of tranquility, happiness, love, and abundance, but we could never quite reach it. Just when we seemed to get close, it was stripped away by all the isms.

As we continued through 2022, the months started to fade into each other. Just as difficult as it is to tell one season from the next, sometimes it is even harder to tell one month from the other. It seemed like it was just January 2022; now, we find ourselves in December, many of us asking, where did the year go? We ask ourselves this question because many of us are not experiencing life. We are not living life. We are just going through the motions of life. Get up, shower, eat, work, come home, and scroll mindlessly on social media with a movie we have seen 135 times playing in the background on Netflix until we fall asleep, only to do it again and again. Our life is on the wash, rinse, and repeat cycle. By the time we even notice 365 days, 8760 hours have gone by. We vow to do things differently in the next year but repeat many of the same patterns. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

This year almost got by me.

Until Covid caught up with me and made me lie down, forcing me to rest, it forced me to see things that I didn’t truly see or just never wanted to see about people in my circle. There is something to be said about being forced to rest that just makes you see. It was one of the first times I took to cut myself off from the world. I didn’t keep up with the local news or even national news. I wasn’t aware of the latest hashtag. When I did get on social media, I blocked more and engaged less. I posted only a few things. I stayed in bed, answered my phone when I wanted to, didn’t reply to emails, looked at the pile of laundry, and decided it could stay in a pile another day. I didn’t go to the parties. Said no instead of yes.

I only agreed to write assignments that interested me because they were for a bigger goal. I understood that some people are just going to be racist and hateful. I moved on. I attended one event, and that was only because young people were involved. I reevaluated relationships. I took time to think about life and what I wanted my life to look like. Who I wanted to be in my circle. Who I wanted to give my energy and time. I thought about how I wanted to spend this next stage of my life. Quite honestly, outside of being sick, it was the best time I had in my life. I feel at ease, at peace, and grounded.

Many people rush into the New Year before looking at the year that passed. I invite you to step back, step away, step out, and look at the year. Look at people that you call your friends, family, and partners. Step back and take care of yourself. Stop going through life gasping for air as you take care of everyone else, instead put your oxygen mask on first without apologizing.

I remember those words in my blog at the beginning of the year when I challenged Black women to reclaim themselves. “So, please, Black women, know this is your moment. This moment is about you and your peace, happiness, and love. This moment is not about anyone else. This moment is about you. You are under no obligation to be Superwoman. It is okay to tell this world that you are giving up your cape.”

This last month of my life has been about reclaiming myself. I will continue my journey into January. I no longer believe in New Year, New Me. I will not be making a vision board or rushing to attempt to change my life in the first few days of January. I don’t feel pressure to get it right in January. My life will move with the seasons. It is winter, and I am still hibernating. Insulating. Waiting to emerge with the flowers.

Happy New Year.

Love,
Hannah