An Open Letter to Black Women
Let's try this again.
Note from the Narrator
At the end of this post, I’ve included links to some of my favorite Black creators and content that I’ve come across. If you're genuinely committed to expanding your perspective, I encourage you to check them out.
The list is being updated as I receive permission from creators. If you have recommendations, or would like to be added to the list, please comment or contact me directly.
Dear Black Women,
This isn’t a performative post. No donation links. No soft call to action disguised as self-congratulation. I don’t want applause, and I’m not asking for your grace. This is actually meant for you.
I started this letter because I didn’t want the loudest voices in your mentions to be the ones telling you to tone it down, lighten up, or make your truth easier for us to swallow.
It turned into a lesson on how not to be an ally.
After publishing the original version, I received criticism—valid and necessary. That first draft came from frustration, and in that state, I centered white women and overexplained oppression to Black women. I let my sense of “justice” override clarity and completely missed the point of posting it in the first place.
What you’re reading now is a better version—not because I got smarter overnight, but because Black women, once again, took the time to correct what shouldn’t have needed correction. I’m grateful to those who did.
To everyone reading now: I’m sorry. And I’ll keep doing better.
So, let’s get into it—and do it right this time.
I’ve read your posts.
The open letters, the essays written from a place of exhaustion so deep it practically hums off the page.
I’m not here to explain the system to you. You live in it. You fight it. You survive it every day while the rest of us pretend we don’t see—or worse, pretend we don’t benefit from—the weight you carry.
What I am here to say is: I see how much you’ve carried alone. You’ve been told to be patient. To be polite. To smooth your rage into something we can comfortably consume.
You’ve been the backbone of every meaningful movement in this country, and we’ve responded by trying to take the credit, dilute the message, or outright work against you.
You’ve been expected to educate while being disrespected.
To inspire while being ignored.
To lead movements—and manage our feelings about them.
And still, you persist.
Because you always do. But you shouldn’t fucking have to.
The problem is we—white women—have been pretending to hear you.
We’ve performed empathy. We’ve centered ourselves, spoken over you, and called it “solidarity.”
We’ve hashtagged, posted, reshared—but only when it cost us nothing. When it wouldn’t cost us a raise, or an opportunity, or even a man. Gag.
But actually listening to Black women would mean acknowledging how much we gain from your oppression—and risking the comfort we’ve been taught to protect at all costs.
And I’m sorry.
I’m sorry that, as a whole, we fucking suck.
I know you're tired. I know you're done explaining. You shouldn’t have to keep repeating yourself just because some of us refused to listen the first hundred times.
I see what you’ve given. I see how much it’s cost; I will never fully be able to understand—but I do know that the rest of us should’ve been paying that bill a long time ago.
So no, this letter doesn’t end on a hopeful note. It ends where it should:
You’re not “crazy.”
You’re not too “angry.”
You’re not asking for too much.
You’re not imagining the silence the moment that it stopped being trendy to care.
I don’t have a solution. I don’t have a tidy conclusion or a hopeful bow to offer. I just want you to know: you shouldn't have to carry this alone. And whether or not you find community here, or with me, that truth still stands.
What I can do is stop centering myself—and use my teensy little platform to amplify voices that should’ve been heard all along.
Below is a list of Black women whose work I admire. I encourage everyone to follow, support, and—most importantly—listen.
—Nikki
If you know of other creators who deserve to be highlighted, drop their info in the comments or message me directly.
If you choose to engage with this post, I only ask one thing: do it with intention. Don’t share my frustration—amplify the creators. Share their work. Send recommendations. Help nudge the spotlight a little bit.
Creators & Content That You Should Check Out
DISCLAIMER: Do not disrespect the creators, their time, or their effort by lurking without engaging, asking for free advice, or expecting to be “educated” on things they’ve already explained countless times. Your support should be genuine—show up to learn and support, not take advantage.
Ebony Elizabeth Thomas
Chair & Associate Professor, University of Michigan's Joint Program in English & Education. Author, The Dark Fantastic & more.
Dajeanna Maria
Digital creator & Influencer. Also a personal friend, she is as brilliant and entertaining as she is beautiful. Check her out!
Lina Pastel
Recording Artist, Song Writer, and friend.
I’ve had the privilege of working alongside some truly talented people, but none quite as inspiring as Lina. Not only is she an incredibly gifted artist, but her drive, creativity, and authenticity in everything she does is something I constantly draw inspiration from.