Some Truths We’re Not Supposed to Say Out Loud- But We Will

We see you.
Not with malice.
Not with envy.
But with ancient knowing.

We know when something in the milk ain’t clean
We know when a movement carries rot at the root.

I’ve been sitting with something heavy. It’s uncomfortable, but so is silence. So here it is.

There’s a kind of hate that floats quietly in spaces that say all the right words. It wears the right buttons, it uses the right hashtags, and still — it hates Black women.

Even in spaces that claim to be about freedom, identity, and healing — you’ll find the same old scripts. Dressed up different, but still familiar. I’ve watched, again and again, how Black women get flattened, mocked, and erased by people who claim to be pushing for liberation. What kind of freedom is that?

And here’s the part that stings even more: some of the ugliest, most aggressive attacks on Black womanhood I’ve seen lately aren’t coming from the usual suspects. They’re coming from inside movements that are supposed to stand against oppression.

Yes, there are Black people in these spaces. Yes, there are folks who genuinely want a better world for all of us. But alongside that, there’s a stream — loud or quiet, depending on the day — that treats Black women as if we are disposable.

It’s not new. The idea that Black women are “too much” — too loud, too masculine, too angry, too visible — that’s been around forever. But what’s shocking is how casually those ideas get recycled in rooms full of people who swear they’re against racism. Suddenly, it’s progressive to strip Black women of our language, our history, our biology, our right to define ourselves.

When Black women speak about our lives — not anyone else’s, just ours — we get told we’re hateful, we’re violent, we’re in the way.
But we’re not in the way.
We are the foundation.

It’s wild to see the same tactics white supremacists have used for generations now popping up in activist spaces: gaslighting, name-calling, the erasure of truth in favor of ideology. If you’re using those tools, ask yourself — whose side are you really on?

You don’t get to fight for some of us by stomping on others.

You don’t get to shout “inclusion” while shutting the door on Black women — the same women who’ve carried movements, raised generations, and fought for people who now refuse to even see us.

I’m not writing this for clicks. I’m not writing it to argue. I’m writing it because I know I’m not the only one who sees it — and feels it — every day.

You cannot liberate yourself by desecrating the altar of Black womanhood.

You cannot claim to fight for the future while spitting on the very women whose prayers built the road you’re walking.

Do you think that our ancestors bless movements that dishonor their daughters?

If your movement leaves Black women behind, it’s not justice.