My Miscarriage as a Strong Black Woman

*Please note that the comments shared in this post that were said to me had absolutely no malicious intent. The comments were an attempt to show care, comfort, and thoughtfulness during a beyond challenging time. I am sharing the sentiments only as examples of messaging we receive as Strong Black Women. I hope that this post, as well as my other work on the Strong Black Woman schema, spreads awareness, builds connection, and encourages conversation and greater intentionality within ourselves and our various relationships.

In December 2025, my husband and I were involved in a serious multi-vehicular accident. We were both hospitalized for multiple days, and during my hospitalization, I learned I was pregnant. Although my husband and I have no memory of the vehicular accident (possibly due to our head injuries, the trauma of the event, or both), waking up in the hospital to realize it wasn’t just the two of us who survived but three of us was an added blessing. Every day, I praised God for that miracle.

About five weeks later, my husband and I attended our first obstetrician appointment. I was approximately eight weeks pregnant. I was ready to meet our baby, see their ultrasound, and hear their heartbeat. Dressed in the maternity sweater my mother wore when pregnant with me, the triple-heart necklace I share with my two sisters, and my late-grandmother’s White Diamonds perfume, I knew I would always remember this day, but I am still processing why.

Long story less long, an ultrasound and bloodwork on the day of our appointment and repeated a few days later confirmed an anembryonic pregnancy (otherwise known as a blighted ovum). I was having a miscarriage. Shocked, lost, and confused, I was immediately hit with grief. I just wanted to meet my baby... 

In my mourning and as we started sharing the news with our friends, coworkers, and loved ones, we received an outpouring of support, condolences, and hope. Of the many messages I received, as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and self-defined Strong Black Woman who actively researches, teaches, and facilitates conversations on the paradoxical nature of the Strong Black Woman schema and Superwoman Ideal, three comments stand out. Within the first 48 hours of my miscarriage, I was told by fellow Strong Black Women 1) not to cry, 2) to find a project to throw myself into, and 3) that it’s okay if I choose not to attend a baby shower that was more than a month away. Each of the comments from each of the individuals was shared with love, empathy, concern, and good intentions, and yet I innately tensed and was somewhat repulsed by each of them.

Don’t Cry

“Don’t cry, baby. It’ll be okay. We women are strong and our bodies can handle a lot. You’ll get pregnant again and you’ll have your baby. Don’t cry. Trust in God. Give it to Him and you won’t need to cry. Don’t cry, baby; it’ll be okay but please don’t let yourself cry.”

When you love someone, their hurt is your hurt, and sometimes you can feel the hurt viscerally. I know a lot of people were hurt by our news. 

As Strong Black Women, we have internalized the obligation to suppress emotion and to embody and display multiple forms of strength. The Strong Black Woman schema originated during chattel slavery, and at the time, my ancestors learned to suppress emotion because outward displays of anger, grief, resistance, rebuttal, refusal, and pain often led to punishment in the form of whippings, lynching, raping, and being sold from their families (or having their families sold away from them). Displaying emotion was considered a weakness, so we suppressed emotion and resisted vulnerability to protect ourselves, our family, and our community.

As a Strong Black Woman, I know without a doubt that the “don’t cry” comment was shared out of protection, encouragement, and the desire to heal. My pain was their pain, and we were both seeking a way through it. However, as a clinician and a mourning mother, I also recognize the unintentional harshness of being discouraged from openly grieving the loss of our baby. As a self-defined Strong Black Woman, I openly hold space for both of these truths and everything in between.

Find a Project

“Advice I was given when I experienced loss was to throw yourself into a project... You need to find something else to occupy your thoughts because eventually you will need to get up and start moving again.”

The most prominent characteristic of the Strong Black Woman schema is the obligation to manifest, embody, and display multiple forms of strength, where strength is conceptualized to include independence, resilience, and mental fortitude. Mental fortitude is characterized by determination, psychological durability, and emotional toughness. While I recognize that sublimation (channeling difficult emotions into productive activities) is a mature coping strategy, to tell someone within 48 hours of their loss that they will eventually need to get up and focus on other things seems a bit too soon.

The expectation to refocus on other, less emotionally challenging activities is also a form of emotional suppression, especially if the individual is not granted the space to sit with and process their emotions. Arguably, two days is not sufficient time to grieve a loss.

A third characteristic of the Strong Black Woman schema is the obligation to succeed despite limited resources. While many people frequently default to considering resources like money, food, clothing, or even time, emotional capacity is also among the resources that should be considered. If research has shown that phenomena like burnout and compassion fatigue decrease productivity, would not grief also highly impact one’s ability to engage in normal responsibilities? (Spoiler alert: research confirms that grief impacts productivity.)

Suggesting that I should avert my attention to another project or something I am passionate about implies that I should tap into my inner strength and mental fortitude to succeed (i.e., overcome grief) despite the resources (i.e., interest, capacity, energy, focus, etc.) needed to do so.

You’re Excused

“If you’re not able to make it to the shower, I understand. Just know that I’m here. I’m always here to talk or sit with you.”

To be honest, I struggled with this comment the most. I received it within a couple of hours of my confirmed miscarriage, and my innate, grief-stricken response was, “literally, no one is thinking about the baby shower!” (Thankfully, I still had the clarity, sound mind, grace, and character to scream this internally compared to voicing my dissent.) I was enraged that the response to my miscarriage was that I was excused from attending a baby shower that was not taking place for several weeks. My initial impression was that the person was thinking about themselves because why is the baby shower the first thing you thought of when I literally just found out that my baby died? (Once again, this was my innate, grief-stricken response when first receiving the message).

I later was able to recognize that the comment was likely shared out of sensitivity, empathy, and thoughtfulness. I had just lost my child. Out of concern, the person likely thought it would be too soon for me to participate in the celebration of someone else’s. 

Because my initial impression was so far removed from the intention through which the comment was likely shared, I spent a significant amount of time processing why this comment landed so viscerally. As Strong Black Women, we have internalized the obligation to provide self-sacrificial care; to prioritize other people’s needs above our own. While being excused from the event was of good intention, the mere idea that their life event was on the same wavelength as the news I just received felt selfish and disconnected, likely because this was time that I was prioritizing myself without even considering giving thought to anything else. The reminder of my external responsibilities seemed to infringe on my right to prioritize my grieving without considering how it may impact future obligations.

Final Thoughts and Call to Action

Again, I must reiterate that these three comments shared by Strong Black Women whom I love and highly value were not made in malice. However, we must recognize that impact is greater than intention. Each of these comments hurt me deeply, resulting in my reliance on a fifth characteristic of the Strong Black Woman schema, the obligation to resist dependence and vulnerability.

After receiving the comments, part of me shut myself down to them because I did not feel emotionally safe enough to continue conversations about my grief and bereavement. These and other comments, including “better out than in at this point” and “I choose to move forward and not live in the past; you need to accept it,” were harsh reminders to be intentional about who I share my full self with. As Strong Black Women, it is hard to redefine this schema in our lives, especially when other Strong Black Women in our lives are still heavily reliant on it. I want to honor that.

So where do we (do I) go from here? First and most importantly, I will continue to pursue healing from the accident and from my grief. Second, I am even more invested in bringing attention to the Strong Black Woman schema. I currently offer a continuing education course about addressing the Strong Black Woman schema in the therapeutic relationship. While this course is intended for licensed social workers, anyone can take the course, especially if they are curious about what to look for in culturally sensitive therapists. I also provide professional development workshops on the Strong Black Woman schema and Superwoman Ideal. You can book a consultation with me here. Finally, I now offer Pick My Brain sessions for any individual who would like to discuss these (or other) topics with me more intimately.

Regardless of which offer you select, I hope that this highly personal post resonated with you, and that you will sit with it, share it, take what’s meaningful, and leave the rest.

Frequently Asked Questions

What are the characteristics of the Strong Black Woman schema?

There are five key characteristics of the Strong Black Woman schema. They are the obligations to 1) display, manifest, and embody multiple forms of strength, 2) suppress emotion, 3) resist dependency and vulnerability, 4) succeed despite limited resources, and 5) provide a self-sacrificial level of care.

Isn’t being a Strong Black Woman a good thing?

It definitely can be! Protective factors associated with the Strong Black Woman schema include cultural and racial pride, confidence, resilience, self-preservation, and preservation of the Black family and Black community. However, overreliance on the schema can lead to many mental and physical health risk factors, including depression, anxiety, stress, low self-esteem, hypertension, poor sleep, binge eating, diabetes, obesity, stroke, and other stress-related health conditions.

What is the difference between the Strong Black Woman schema and the Superwoman Ideal?

There is a lot of overlap between these two schemas, but the main difference is that the Strong Black Woman schema specifically names the historical and cultural experiences unique to Black women in America. The Superwoman Ideal is considered more racially inclusive as it does not specifically name or address the nuanced experiences of intersecting racial and gender identities.

More people need to hear this. How can we help to spread this message?

I offer several professional development opportunities, including workshops, keynotes, panel discussions, and podcast interviews. You can book your free consultation here.

I’m not in a position to hire you for a professional development event. Can I still work with you?

Of course! I also offer Pick My Brain sessions that allow for brief, 60-minute consulting sessions on a range of topics, including understanding and navigating the Strong Black Woman schema. Get started here.