I cannot stress the importance of a stable support team. Everyone needs that one particular shoulder, or shoulders to lean on during those times where you feel as though the world is against you. When you feel like you have nothing left to give, and you need to let it all out. I'm a very independent person, and even I understand that I need a person or two to vent to, and express my feelings to. Besides your parents, or your significant other, there are your sisters.
For women, actually let me go into detail, for Black Women, there is a forced stereotype that we are either angry and black, or we are cold, successful and black. Either way, there is a negative connotation that is attached to us. I don't quite understand where this perception came from, nor do I take any offense to it anymore, but I do put people in their place when it is absolutely necessary. We are always perceived as angry, or bitter, and it's mind boggling, because I personally believe that Black Women are powerful, magical, effortless beings that are not solely angry.
I cherish the women that I call my sister's, because they have been there for me during excruciatingly tough times, and I have been present in return. These women that I have found sisterhood in, are my back-bone. It's deeper than a friendship; I consider them family. Biologically, I have a baby sister, who I cherish dearly, but from elementary school, high school, and going away to college, I've obtained unforgettable bonds with strong women. Gaining these friendships have molded me into the woman that I am today because each personality rubs off onto you in a way. You think smarter when you have a fully equipped clique of strong-willed creative women.
I'm currently in Los Angeles, and it just happened to be the weekend of the Women's March. (I am so clueless when it comes to these things.) I wasn't extremely inspired to go, because although I adore the purpose of the march, I still believe that there is a divide race-wise for women, so every fight is not my fight. I was more inspired to go to the Million Man March back in 2015, because I felt its purpose automatically; hence why I was there and wrote a story on it for a publication I used to work for.
The Women's March this year was directed towards voting because we have an idiot for our president, and obviously there was a lot of unity and "sisterhood" on the outside. But as I walked past these women of all colors, I couldn't help but wonder if this same warm/kind attitude would be reflected tomorrow if we were to cross paths. I hate to be that person (actually I don't), but I couldn't help but think about race, and think about how Black Women had to fight 10 times harder for rights; we were never originally incorporated into any of the women's rights we read about in our history books. Still exiled, still had to put up a fight, still had to prove our worth.
So it's the moments like these that I appreciate the most, because I went with one of my sister's Nareasha Willis, founder of Black Vogue and we slayed those LA streets. We wore Black Vogue pieces, turned heads, and created a small buzz of comments. I felt the eyes scolding the term "Black Vogue", and it made me even more proud to be a part of the movement. The racial divide hasn't really left, and we see that day in and day out. Even at the Women's March, I still sensed the divide, so I didn't attend for women as a whole, but for the women that I could relate to. I attended for those women that I call my sister's who have supported me and continue to support me. I attended to show the world that Black Women are fearless and will hold their heads high no matter the opposition. There can be movements within a movement, and that is what I felt marching in LA.
"Another black woman is my sister, not my competition. The plan is that we both make it."