To the Black Woman Who’s Carried Too Much, for Too Long

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You’ve carried generations.
Not just your own burdens, but the weight of legacies, expectations, survival.

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You’ve been called strong so many times,
they forgot you were human.

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You’ve been the backbone, the nurturer, the warrior, the fixer—
even when you were breaking.

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And still, they asked for more.
More patience. More grace. More silence.
Less anger. Less truth. Less of your fullness.

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But you are not here to be their myth.
You are not here to be unbreakable.

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You are here to be.
To breathe.
To be soft.
To be seen.

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This retreat is not just a place to rest.
It is a place where you don’t have to explain yourself. 

A place where your boundaries are honored,
your voice is heard,
and your pain is never minimized.

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Here, you are not the only one holding it together.
Here, you are held.

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You are sacred.
You are luminous.
You are worthy of ease, tenderness, and joy that doesn’t demand anything back.

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Come rest, beloved.
Come unravel.
Come be poured into, for once.

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You’ve carried enough.
Let us carry you.