As a Biracial Black woman, whose ancestors endured the horror and trauma of the antebellum slave period, I understand that my inherited strength was not necessarily a gift, but an adaptation required to survive. I remember having to sit down and ask myself a series of questions "How did I manage to internalize my "strength" as a badge of honor? Why is so much of my self-worth tied into what I can do for others? How do I prioritize myself and my own needs? Why have I always felt this constant pressure to succeed and excel so that I can provide for my family and my community?"

I found the answers to those questions in the most unforeseen manner; watching a Disney movie with my kids! If you have not seen the movie "Encanto," you may want to grab a big bag of popcorn, throw on some comfortable clothes, turn on Disney plus and get ready to receive some mind-blowing self-insight.

The movie highlights how a historically traumatic event experienced by a young mother creates a cycle of intergenerational trauma that ultimately manifests itself throughout each member of her family. I will dedicate another blog to the trauma themes associated with the movie Encanto. However, I want to use this space to focus on one specific manifestation of ancestral trauma that has its roots in the social construct of the "Strong Black Woman."

When you watch the movie, you will come to know one specific character named "Luisa." In the movie, each member of the family receives an extraordinary gift that is expected to be used for the empowerment of the family and community as a whole. Luisa is gifted with extra-ordinary strength. Mind you, this was a supernatural gift that was given to her, not one that she asked for. Regardless, any gift can be a curse when we mistakenly make it synonymous with our true identity.

She is praised and admired for her gift by all of the townspeople. Her family depended on her gift to carry them in ways that they could not carry themselves. The gift within itself made her feel of importance. She had come to believe that, it was the gift that she possessed that held all of the value, not the person who possessed it.

In the movie she sings a song describing how she feels about the gift that she was given. By the end of the song, I was literally speechless. This woman had just perfectly described a reality that I existed in and had never been able to verbalize. It was like she had been studying me since I was a young child and stole my entire identity. How could this be? Is it possible that there are other BIPOC women who experience the pressures that I have succumb to my entire life?

Allow me to elaborate using the following lyrics which are the ones that resonated with me the most.

1. "I move mountains, I move churches And I glow, 'cause I know what my worth is."

In this verse, she specifically talks about what she is capable of doing and then she immediately follows up about the glow she has because she knows her worth. When doing ancestral trauma work with my clients, I typically ask them to watch the movie and journal their reactions and reflections. One client noted that she felt this line was reflective of the pressure to be "Black Girl Magic." Her analysis of this verse deeply resonated with me.

How does one demonstrate Black girl magic? What does the physical manifestation of Black girl magic look like? How can something that was created to empower us as Black women become an expectation or a standard for us to live by?

When I researched and read several definitions of Black Girl Magic. The words I saw associated with the term were: excellence, dopeness, mind-blowing, inspiring, strength, achievement, etc. Most of us will look at those words through the lens of colonialism and expectation. Colonialism will always be synonymous with oppression.

2. "I don't ask how hard the work is .. Got a rough indestructible surface."

As Black women, we are handed a lot of expectations and demands. We rarely question those demands because we have been socialized in a way that has made us believe that we cannot show any signs of weakness or incapabilities. If our ancestors have survived such horrific atrocities, how could we ever show any signs of defeat?

3. "I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanded."

This one right here tho! This hit me to my core. So damn much is demanded of Black women! We pour so much of our energy into our partners, children, jobs, and community until we have nothing left to give ourselves. And whatever scraps we get in return from those we serve; we just take it. We have this deeply rooted understanding that people will never show up for us the way that we show up for them; thus embracing hyper-independence and total self-reliance.

4. "Under the surface, I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus, Under the surface, Was Hercules ever like, "Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus? I hide my nerves, and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us."

Underneath our strong, unbreakable, well-put together outer appearance, Black women are in crisis mentally, emotionally, and psychologically. We experience debilitating anxiety, unrelenting depression, feelings of being an imposter, and overall misery, bitterness, and unhappiness. The very community, loved ones, and people we serve, then look at us and call us "Angry Black Women." At times, we can fall into an existential crisis. We start to question our purpose, our existence, and whether or not this life is even worth living.

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5. "But wait, if I could shake the crushing weight of expectations, would that free some room up for joy or relaxation, or simple pleasure?"

Black women never asked for this "strength" or these expectations/demands which have been placed upon us. We wonder what would happen if we were to just say "NO" to it all. What would we do then? Would we still be seen as valuable to the rest of the world? Would we feel guilt and a lack of purpose.

I remember being told by my therapist, primary care doctor, and acupuncturist that I needed to rest. My energy was drained and I was exhausted, so I did not hesitate to agree with them. There was just one issue: I had no idea what that looked like. I kept probing them for specific instructions and directions, but to no avail.

I had no idea what made me happy or where in my life I found joy. My idea of relaxation was a long day at an expensive ass spa that I could not afford. What the hell is simple pleasure anyway? Nothing in my life had ever been simple.

After much reflection, I realized that I did not know how to rest because I didn't know shit about myself. My whole life had been dedicated to pouring my energy into everything and everyone else other than myself. Of course I did not know what made me happy. I didn't even know who I was. I learned that rest simply meant the withdrawing of my energy from people and places and pouring it into myself.

6. "I think about my purpose, can I some how preserve this?

The question that the title of this article poses is whether or not the inherent strength that we as Black women possess is a gift or a curse. I believe that you are the one that determines the answer to that question. I would be remiss to not remind you that, despite what you as a Black woman have been indoctrinated to believe, no one has power and control over your life but you.

We have to be careful not to look at the parts of ourselves that is meant to serve or elevate us through the lens of oppression which would easily have us mistake our gifts for a curse. Our strength is a gift that has been given to us to keep us alive. Our strength is meant to preserve us, protect us, and give us the ability to awaken to our true identity and achieve inner peace and happiness; even in the midst of all of the chaos around us.

By using your strength for the most important person in your life first (yourself) you will have the ability to discern who to share your gift with and how you will utilize it to fulfill your life's purpose.