"Strong" Isn’t Sustainable: What Maame Teaches Us About Breaking the Cycle for Black Women
In Jessica George’s poignant debut novel Maame, we meet Maddie — a young Ghanaian British woman navigating the silent weight of familial duty, repressed emotions, all while dealing with micro aggressions and grief. While the story is fiction, the emotional terrain is painfully real for many Black women. We are often expected to be the caretakers, the dependable ones, the strong ones. We internalize our emotions, delay our dreams, and bear the emotional labor of families and communities—until our bodies, minds, and spirits began to crack under the pressure.
And even then, we shame ourselves for not being "strong enough."
But strength, when rooted in suppression and self-neglect, becomes a burden, not a virtue. I think what bothered me the most when reading Maame wasn't just what Maddie was experiencing, it was that the story felt all too familiar. It's past time that we undo this cycle of internalized suffering.
The "Strong Black Woman" Trope and Its Roots This trope didn’t emerge out of nowhere. The image of the "strong Black woman" has roots in a long legacy of survival. From the trauma of slavery to the civil rights movement, Black women have been forced into roles of resilience out of necessity. While strength has helped us endure, it has also been weaponized to keep us silent and self-sacrificing. The pressure to always be strong can make vulnerability feel like failure and make seeking help feel like weakness.
Maddie’s Story as a Mirror In Maame, Maddie’s life is dictated by obligations. She is her father’s primary caregiver, fills in emotional (and financial) gaps in her family, and manages daily expectations and microaggressions in a world that rarely gives her space to breathe. Even as she attempts to build her own life, she is constantly pulled back into roles she didn’t choose but has now found herself silently accepting. Her isolation, anxiety, and self-doubt reflect the unspoken burdens that many Black women carry: the expectation to be everything for everyone, often at the cost of themselves.
The Hidden Costs of Emotional Labor The emotional labor Black women perform is rarely acknowledged, let alone compensated. It shows up in the workplace, in families, in friendships, in activism. Over time, this labor erodes well-being. Chronic stress, anxiety, depression, and even physical ailments like heart disease, hypertension and fatigue are all manifestations of carrying too much for too long. When we internalize and suppress pain, and prioritize others above ourselves, we fracture the connection with our own needs and bodies.
Breaking the Cycle: What Healing Looks Like Breaking this cycle requires courage, connection and community. It means unlearning the belief that love must be earned through sacrifice. It means setting boundaries, seeking therapy, allowing ourselves to rest, and saying no without guilt. Healing is not just individual—it’s collective. As a therapist, I work with Black women who are learning to feel their feelings without judgment, to reconnect with their bodies, and to honor their desires instead of suppressing them. We practice self-compassion, breathwork, and nervous system regulation as part of restoration and healing.
A Call to Liberation To be strong should not mean to suffer. We deserve softness, tenderness, support, and joy. Maddie’s story reminds us that we do not have to wait for someone else to grant us permission to heal. We can break the cycle and we can write new stories—ones where we are centered, nurtured, and free.
Let this be the time that Black women choose themselves, reclaim their time and REST.
If you are looking to get started on this restful journey of reclamation, hit me up and let’s talk! I’d be honored to be your guide.