I complain about everything, and I’m proud of it. I refuse to suffer in silence for anyone’s comfort. If I’m unhappy, you’ll know.
Women….especially Black women, are often expected to just endure: to be tough, to be strong, to be quiet, and to be unbothered. We’re told to smile through it, absorb it, and endure.
Not here, not anymore.
Lately, my biggest source of frustration is ICE. The constant barrage of news leaves me feeling powerless and exhausted, which, honestly, is the goal. They overwhelm people until we shut down and normalize cruelty until it fades into the background.
So yes, I complain. Loudly. I talk about it to anyone who will listen. I share links, I text articles, and I urge people to call their representatives. I say, “Do something.”
Because silence has never protected us, and I refuse to pretend I’m fine when I’m not.
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