“DON’T SAVE ‘EM”:THE PROBLEM WITH THE BLACK SUPERWOMAN SYNDROME (FEAT. JERMAINE COLE)

I went to a session, and someone noted that people were saying that maybe Kanye wouldn’t be Kanye if he had the support of a black woman. But, when did that become the black woman’s job? When did it become my 9 to 5 to drown for the very beings that wouldn’t swim for me? That won’t give to me…that won’t heal for me…that go through extraordinary lengths…to shame, victimize, and silence me.

Don’t save ’em.

Let’s not get confused. I’d never draw a divisive line between me and my black men. I love women. I made this blog for women. But, I love men, too. I had amazing men show me what a father should be. I have a brother that calls me just to tell me I’m pretty. And I had a couple men that even…broke me. Because I tried to save them. But, who’s gonna save us? Who’s ever…gonna save me?

Don’t save ’em.

My first boyfriend was a Crip…he stayed wearing blue. But, I dated him because he actually thought I was pretty…and I thought he had "potential". He told me he wanted to be a Psychologist. So, I ignored his constant slip-ups, because he had a dream. And my own ignorance wasn’t his fault. But, his desire for my “understanding” was. His desire for my unwavering “forgiveness” was. His ability to make me feel like…nothing…was. He quoted “Boy Meets World” always to me, saying “You are you. I am I. And if in the end, we end up together, it’s beautiful”…and that became my dream.

Don’t save ’em, they don’t wanna be saved.

See, the problem with the Black Superwoman Syndrome is not a mystery. Historically…we had to hold it down..had to work, had to accept abuse, had to watch our husband’s get beat…but we had to remain respectful…we had to hold it together…we couldn’t ever fold…had to remain happy. Had to work, had to provide…had to “save” our families. Time never healed our wounds. Black women still carry this “S”…still risking our own happiness for family…to please everybody…to make good money…to stay married. I made a vow…as I finally decided to go to counseling…this would not be me…because I can’t save everybody.

Don’t save ’em. 

It’s hard to not go to the rescue when you’re such a good counselor. It’s hard to not take off when you’re such a good service rendered. You heard me correctly. I realized, unfortunately, to some people…that’s all we’ll ever be. Friends. Family. And even people you haven’t seen in years. They’ll call you…and not even ask how you’re doing. They’ll ask for money. They’ll slide in your DM’s, just because they’re lonely. And the problem with the Black Superwoman Syndrome is if you’re not careful…you’ll think you have to be kind, you have to respond, you have to help…But, you don’t. You were never required to be loyal to anyone who was never worth your loyalty. And that’s hard.I know, trust me. Because when you have so much energy to put out, you’re eager to give to everybody. But, baby who’s going to pour into you? Who’s gonna pour into me? So, I ask…is your glass half-full… or half empty?

Don’t save ’em.

My best friend who I thought would never leave…up and left me. And I think through this, I learned that some things are just not meant to be. Because the day she left…I found myself constantly blaming ME. I tried and tried to save our friendship that was hanging on by a thread. I tried to pull her closer and shut out the drama that existed between us…but the more I tried to CPR..the more I realized…our relationship was dead.

Don’t save her. She don’t wanna be saved. 

My second boyfriend was heavenly…a match made in heaven. At least it should’ve been…because who’s going to give up the man that treated them like an absolute Queen? Who’s gonna trade in the life full of glows, highs, and being happy? He even had me saving money. But, it was too late. His love scared me…because I know now…I was used to misery. I was used to…being the one doing the “saving”. I was never the one vulnerable. I was always the one playing God…doing the fixing. I was used to being abused emotionally, mistaking that as love. Superwoman…was me. So, when he opened his heart and tried to give me a wedding ring…I had to leave.

Don’t save me. I don’t wanna be saved. 

It absolutely sucks to have a big heart…because you don’t know when too much…is TOO MUCH. You don’t question anything. You just give the one thing you want back..badly. So in that way, life has sucked a lot for me. But, those were my choices…to be on  the front line to stop friends from walking out on life and calling it quits, listening to everyone’s problems, supporting everyone’s dreams, helping every child I could to succeed, thinking I could change a hoe to a husband…this was all me. And I can’t quite say it’s all been stupidity…ready to kill for people who wouldn’t lift a finger for me. Trying to be kind…trying to be “godly”. Do you know what that will do to you? Do you know what it feels like? It’s depression. It’s anxiety. It’s emotional eating. It’s gastroesophogeal reflux disease. It’s running around, without eating, and nearly fainting. It’s going…to bed at night and crying…not feeling good enough even after people profess they’d be nothing without you. But, what about you sis? Who’s going to save you?

Don’t save em. They don’t wanna be saved. 

I hope you read this and let this sink deep. Because this was me….This is my big heart…and that’s a part of my soul. That’s the creator at work and the whole universe within me. And I accept that. I love that about me. But, here’s what happened…and here’s how this Superwoman reached peace. It’s simple.
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I was drowning, but I came up for air…and I saved ME.

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Read more about the Black Superwoman Syndrome here.