Written by Nicole
There continues to be many topics and posts about the tenets of divestment in these social media streets. What is it, who can do it, what is the point of it, and so on. Now, before I get started, let me say that I do not consider myself any kind of expert or guru on divestment. I hate to ascribe a word to the way I walk my own walk in life, because it is deeply personal to me. That’s why I call myself “a black woman of a certain mindset”. And what is right for me could be completely crazy for you.
But, since divestment is the latest word to describe a positive mindset shift in black women, with the ultimate goal to be the BEST version of herself, I wanted to touch on a different side of divestment that is not discussed as frequently – the threats you may face as you embark on this journey of self-discovery and self-improvement.
We all know the dangers men of all races pose to us, but what about our fellow black women?
Recently I wrote about phrases you might hear when you start thinking and acting a different way. This is somewhat of an add-on piece.
With all that said, as sad as it may sound, your fellow black women may pose a greater threat than you realize in this new stage of life. How so? Well:
Let’s be really honest. It is incredibly easy to trigger black women. All you have to do is say something about weight, or poke fun at some weave bundles, or, worse of all, criticize or require any kind of accountability from her precious sons. I have witnessed this first hand in my own posts about losing weight and bundle supply amidst a pandemic, which is why I no longer write about those two sacred calves. All you have to do is, well, something, and if a fellow black woman doesn’t like it, she will seek your destruction.
Jealousy is not a unique phenomenon to us, mind you. But we certainly take it to new heights (or depths). As you grow in your journey, certain aspects about you might change. You might start losing weight. Your reliance on relaxer and weaves may be tossed aside in lieu of embracing your TWA. And as these, and other improvements become more apparent, so too will your fellow black women seeking your demise.
“You think you’re better than me?” she might challengingly ask. This question stems out of her own internal battles, you just so happen to be the target.
She might discourage you from expanding your dating options, because as you know, them white boys are crazy. That high flying corporate job you’ve been eyeing for a while? Her jealousy of your potential may lead her to recommend skipping the application and languishing at your low-paying, unfulfilling current 9-5.
Her jealousy of you will pick and prod at just the right spots so you never reach your fullest potential…or outshine her.
Or, conversely, she will debase herself, in a bid to besmirch the collective’s image so she, in her depravity, isn’t left behind. Case in point:
Meanwhile in Arkansas… (follow me for more fuckery)
By now we should be able to tell that black women, despite the blood, sweat and tears that we pour into the black community, are viewed as second class citizens. The evidence is there – the fatherless homes, the poverty-stricken neighborhoods, the reliance on all other groups to live somewhat comfortably, and so on. However, that doesn’t mean a whole lot. To protect her son, your fellow black woman will sacrifice you. If you accuse her son of assault, you will be countered with “well what were you doing to deserve it?” – this happens from birth until death.
Your 9-year-old little cousin who got a “bad touch” from Uncle Joe was “fast”.
Your 79-year-old great-grandma sitting quietly on the train home must have said something slick to merit a beatdown.
The same black women you share your unique brand of femaleness and blackness with, will be the very same one to put her son, or any black male not even related to her, before you.
But other black women aren’t the only threat to your journey. You yourself pose a threat too! How so? Well:
Which black woman wants the collective of black women to lose? Hopefully it’s a very small number. But your own desire to want the best for black women may keep you on an unending hamster wheel journey. You may end up sacrificing yourself in some way, only to get told off for trying to help. Your attorney friend won’t stop consorting with contaminated convicts? Well, you tried to tell her, better to leave well enough alone, and be happy with the fact that you gave it your best shot. Your closest cousin is pregnant with her fourth child to the third penis that meandered into her life? Sad to say, but you might have to distance yourself, and draw a hard line in the sand that there will be no free babysitting services, and you will not be a substitute parent.
It would be in your best interest to let the chips fall where they may, and sadly let them learn the hard way. It’s not fun to witness, but as the saying goes, the first law of nature is self-preservation. Sometimes you have to let your fellow black woman fail to save yourself some heartache.
We all deal with imposter syndrome in some aspect. And that can be our undoing in so many ways. We feel inadequate, and therefore shrink ourselves when we can, and should, take up space. The complexes we have around our skin and hair can keep us trapped in self-limiting beliefs. The black community does its part to keep the collective’s self-esteem low, to guarantee a steady supply of mules. Everybody else does its part too, to make sure we don’t make any strides to snatch their crown. But don’t fall for it.
Sad though it is to say, your fellow black woman might be the one that causes you to veer off the path you would like for yourself. Often it is via bad advice (“eat that donut”, “babies are a blessing”, “he’s cute, don’t worry about his past”. Other times, it may be more sinister (setting you up to be trafficked). Because you share that sisterhood (or so you thought), you don’t necessarily see her coming. As such, you have to take stock of the friends you keep, and as always, move in stealth so a trap is much more difficult to set for you.
Have you dealt with these issues, or others, from your fellow black woman? Share your experience in the comments below.
Disclaimer: This blog was written by me, Nicole, and my ideas are not necessarily reflective of Christelyn Karazin or other writers on this platform.