Identity

It is March, Woman’s History Month, and last month was Black History Month. February is shortest month of the year., and thee second month of the year. March seems to be the month where everyone has already forgotten the resolutions that they made in December or January for the New Year. In February, we celebrate LOVE through commercialism. In March, most people only think of St. Patrick’s Day, but Women’s History month should be more well known. When you really think about it there is a lot that goes on in both months. These two months are definitely important to identity, especially my identity. As a black woman, whose mother’s birthday is on Valentine’s day, there is a lot that forms my identity in these months. As I think back on the February’s of my youth, I can remember my mother always having something for her two daughters on Valentine’s day. Her two daughter’s that cooked her breakfast in bed, starting so young that we couldn’t make coffee properly to so old that we can cook a full gourmet meal for dinner. In that tradition of cooking for my mother on a national holiday it took the commercialism out of the holiday for us. It was our mother’s birthday. As I grew into romantic relationships, I would always tell my boyfriends that they couldn’t do anything for me on Valentine’s Day because it was my mother’s birthday, so they would have to wait. Why does any of this matter? The formation of identity. The formation of the self. Even to this day, I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day with my husband on Valentine’s Day. Birthday’s matter to me. Showing up for other’s on their birthday matters to me. And that foundational groundwork was laid way back then, and I still hold that tightly now in my life. When I think about Black History Month. Learning about Black History over time has been imprinted in the fabric of who I am as a black woman. Then, learning of notable woman during Woman’s History month. I would learn a Black History fact at school, a Black History fact at church, a Black History fact in any and every organization that my mom had me a part of as an adolescent, and at some point in my life I started researching new Black history facts to learn on my own. The same goes for Woman’s History. These facts instilled a sense of pride in my identity. To this day, I care about the legacy that I will leave behind (whether that is in a previous job I held or even a previous relationship). I care about how I am perceived, because I recognize that I stand on the shoulders of greatness, just based on my identities. Often, this level of care goes above and beyond, and turns into guilt when I don’t deliver, which then turns to shame because of the inner critic thoughts that cloud my thinking at times. Here is the lesson: There are times when we cling to concepts because they are attached to parts of our identity. They are attached to a part of us that shaped who we are and who we have become over time. What we have to ask ourselves is, do these concepts serve us NOW? Does holding on to this concept become more of a stressor on our lives because of the stories that are attached to those concepts or do they still serve us in positive and healthy, productive ways? Holding on to the celebratory nature of celebrating my mother’s birthday over the commercialization of Valentine’s does still serve me. I show honor and love to my mother, and it matters to me that she is still alive and in my life in a positive way. Holding on to the pressure of leaving a lasting impact and positive vibes on everything that I leave because of my strong black history, not so much. Don’t get me wrong. I will always have pride in Black History. To know that my ancestors overcame so much and still built something out of nothing, and showed amazing resilience matters to me and I will hold on to that forever. However, what I don’t need to hold on to are the pressures that come along with all of that, such as having to always be the Strong Black Woman. Such as Never allowing myself to be seen as an Angry Black Woman. Such as suppressing my emotions to be seen in a positive light just for the sake of others. All not very serving for me now in my life. Am I a Strong Black woman, yes. Should I also be able to show weaknesses too, that is a yes as well. Do I have a side that is an Angry Black Woman, yes. Do I have to keep it hidden from the world, nope. Should I be ashamed, if it does come out in honestly and transparency? Nope. If it perpetuates someone else’s stereotype, whose problem is that really….NOT MINE! I am not saying any of this to down Black History Month or to say that women need to show their anger more. I am saying that for ME, I recognize that two things can exist at the same time. That I care very much about my the legacy that I will leave my son, but I can’t care so much that it shrinks my authenticity. I can’t care so much that I feel shame when someone in the public sees me as angry. Living in authenticity requires self-reflection of the identities that you carry. Living in authenticity requires self-reflection of the stereotypes that you hold because you learned them from somewhere. Living in authenticity sometimes un-learning what you learned as a child, because it no longer serves you as an adult. Living in authenticity sometimes means letting go of “I should have” or “I could have,” or even “I can’t because I will be seen as…” It isn’t always easy, but it sure does feel free.