It’s tiring as a child, being told what to do and how to do it. With no regard to if you already know how to do it.
It’s tiring being a woman, who is expected to do certain things and carry herself a certain way.
It’s tiring being a black woman, who is looked down upon and passed over time and time again.
All my life, I’ve just been tired.
It’s exhausting—being a child and constantly told what to do, always being treated like you don’t know your own mind or have any say in your own life. Every decision is made for you, from how you should dress to how you should speak, and it’s never about what you think or feel. It’s tiring being pushed into a mold that doesn’t fit, constantly told you’re too young to understand, even though you’ve already figured things out on your own. There’s no space to just be, to explore who you really are outside of someone else’s expectations.
It’s tiring being a woman, too. Society hands out a long list of rules about how you should look, act, and be perceived. There’s a constant pressure to be graceful, nurturing, and kind, while also being strong and capable—yet not too strong, or you risk being called abrasive. You’re expected to smile, to stay composed, to wear your confidence lightly without ever seeming too proud. The contradictions pile up, and it feels like no matter what you do, it’s never quite enough, or never quite right. There’s this never-ending balancing act, and it’s exhausting to try and keep up.
Tthere’s the added layer of being a Black woman, where even your existence is questioned. You can be overlooked in rooms where your voice should matter, passed over for opportunities others take for granted. Time and time again, you find yourself fighting for recognition, for respect, for your seat at the table. You’re constantly measured by standards that aren’t made for you—your worth being decided by others who see you as “different,” “other.” Your identity becomes a battleground, not just in the eyes of the world, but sometimes even in your own mind.
And all of this, it wears you down. The weight of it is heavy. The emotional toll is hard to describe. Yet, somehow, you keep going. Because what else can you do? But that doesn’t mean it isn’t tiring. Every day is a quiet resistance, a battle to hold onto yourself when the world is constantly trying to redefine you. It’s hard, and sometimes you wonder when it will stop. But even in the midst of all the exhaustion, you find strength you didn’t know you had. And that’s something no one can take from you.
