How trauma can affect black sisterhood and how we can repair it

Bria Barrows
11 min readMay 17, 2023

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Photo by Jackie Parker on Unsplash

When I think of the word sisterhood, to me it means safety, community, solidarity, and trust. When I think of sisterhood in the black community, I can think of all the ways we are alike more than we are different. Sisterhood between black women is unique because we often share similarities in culture, heritage, and style.

As black women, we can swap ideas when it comes to hairstyles, laugh for hours over childhood memories that mirror each other, and then there’s the empowerment we give to each other that can only come from us. Hearing a “yass sis” or “I know that’s right” from another black sister is the type of love that feeds our souls.

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For some of us, however, we can acknowledge that there is a side to black sisterhood that needs improvement. We may have noticed that in our interactions with one another, there may be shade, competition, or hostility.

If you don’t know what I’m referring to, I mean moments when you are out with a friend and perhaps there is a tension between the two of you, but it’s a silent tension. It’s a silent, scrutinizing stare at each other’s outfits, instead of a “Hey, you look beautiful!”

Or moments when you are out and about and catch the eye of another black sister, and instead of a smile, you get a cold, intimidating stare.

Last, unhealthy sisterhood between some of us could be displayed in the wake of success and achievements. If one of us is successful or winning, we may feel that her win is our loss. As a result, we may not support her business, her writing, her podcast, or congratulate her on her achievement.

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We may know of her win, but not genuinely celebrate it.

As I cover ‌black sisterhood, I realize my experience is not everyone’s experience. But as someone who aims to grow daily, I wanted to address any divides between us and explore why this behaviour may be occurring.

I aim to address the root cause of any divides between us.

I promise you; I write all of this with love, respect, and sincerity, because what we experience in our community and how it affects us matters.

I write this, especially for black women who are struggling with challenges they are afraid to talk about due to fear of judgment.

Over the years, I’ve seen other black women also address this issue and, at one point, I too judged others when I noticed they exhibited divisive behaviour. I, like others, judged because it was a mystery why another black sister would behave this way and where this animosity, fear, or insecurity stemmed from. I, like others, judged because I couldn’t imagine ever feeling this way towards another woman, let alone, another black woman.

However, as I got older, I noticed I exhibited behaviour that mirrored others around me. This doesn’t mean I’ve been a bully or have torn anyone down. I’ve always tried to be encouraging to other black women around me and I’m big on complimenting others. But deep inside, there was this feeling that I somehow wasn’t good enough. The urge to compare myself to others would creep in and a scarcity mindset concerning the success of other black women would arise. When I say, scarcity mindset, I mean the belief that life only offers so much space and opportunities for one to succeed or thrive. These feelings, coupled with depression, weighed heavily on me.

Over time, I realized that not only are certain habits, like comparison, extremely unhealthy to yourself and others, but the actual inner feelings that accompany them do nothing but weigh you down. You become disconnected from yourself and lose sight of who you are. You also can’t sincerely be happy for others until you are happy within, and it was my goal to be happy. I hated the way I was feeling and wanted to understand my feelings.

So at 27, I began therapy.

Each week, we delved deeper into my story, my background, and my life experiences. We discussed self-worth and my childhood — and I was even told to write a letter to my younger self. Prior to this assignment, I had somewhat of an understanding that my view of self became a bit shaky as I got older, but I never realized how my childhood experiences could impact my view of self as an adult. When given this assignment, I realized that was the first time my childhood self felt appropriately validated and seen.

Not that I didn’t get any positive reinforcement at all as a child, but coming from a Caribbean background, my parents, like many in the black community, weren’t taught the importance of self-affirmation and we didn’t have discussions about self-esteem. We also knew nothing about therapy. So as I matured into adolescence, I didn’t have a foundation for self-worth and this followed me into adulthood and showed up in certain areas, like relationships with other women. So to begin my self-love journey in therapy, I started with my childhood. I also addressed my view of success and scarcity thinking around the success of others.

Every session was rewarding because I could express my feelings and dissect them without fear of judgment. Certain experiences in my life such as bullying, low esteem, and even my view of the world were validated as manifestations of trauma.

As I connected the dots between my experiences and the behaviour of some of my black sisters, it made me wonder how much our personal struggles were affecting our interactions with one another.

According to research from HelpGuide.org, there are different traumas; however‌, trauma is defined as, “Stressful events that shatter your sense of security… Psychological trauma can leave you with upsetting emotions, memories, and anxiety… It can also leave you feeling numb, disconnected, and unable to trust people.”

According to Courtney Hunt, president of the Metropolitan Baton Rouge Chapter, black women are prone to experiencing trauma in our upbringings, and that trauma starts early. In assessing self-esteem, Hunt concludes that “Many grown women struggle with self-esteem issues, and it’s probably because no one took the time to care enough to ask them their thoughts and feelings as young girls. President of the Metropolitan Baton Rouge Chapter of the National Coalition of 100 Black Women, Inc. also notes that “We should be asking young girls, ‘What happened to you? versus What’s wrong with you?’”

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When I think of black women as a unit, some of us have experienced trauma such as poverty, bullying, difficult relationships with our parents, lack of affirmation (which contributes to low self-worth), lack of education, limited access to resources, mental illness, and growing up in environments that didn’t allow us to shine brightly and nurture our gifts.

We also have to acknowledge that the overwhelming majority of us are also subject to the trauma of being within a community that is built on colonialism and ignorance. Things like colourism, the obsession with “good hair,” comments about our weight, as well as criticisms about the way we may carry ourselves, our life choices, our intelligence, and our capabilities are part of this.

Sometimes it seems like for us, even in our own community, others’ expectations of what we can accomplish are low and this is not necessarily a fault of our own. In an article in the Atlantic by author Emily DeRuy, entitled, “White Teachers Expect Less than Black Teachers from Black Students,” DeRuy discusses how black students are assessed in classrooms.

Using research from Johns Hopkins University, DeRuy found that, “White teachers expect less academic success from black students than black teachers do from the same students… If a teacher does not expect a black student to do well, she may be communicating those expectations, even subconsciously, to the student. DeRuy quotes economist Nicholas Papageorge from Johns Hopkins University, stating, “‘A teacher telling a student they’re not smart will weigh heavily on how that student feels about their future…”’

Based on these findings, some black girls may subconsciously grow up thinking they are not as bright as others and that their dreams are too big.

These many combined stresses can affect your self-esteem as you mature into womanhood — and many of us have dealt with painful scenarios since we were little girls; little girls who will grow into adults, but may continue to struggle with self-love and confidence.

As I reflect on sisterhood, I can’t say my life has unfolded exactly like every other black woman’s life, but I can conclude that some of us experience traumas that can deeply affect us.

So perhaps when we encounter a black woman who seems hostile and envious of our success or the way we carry ourselves or even our life circumstances, we can consider that she is struggling with long-standing insecurities that distort how she sees herself and the world around her.

Perhaps she never grew up with a positive sense of self or saw others talk about success and achieving goals. Perhaps she never had someone tell her about all her positive attributes and about the idea of unlimited abundance for all, so when she sees another black woman, she feels that her beauty, her success, and her confidence somehow threatens her own. Perhaps she’s never been taught that we all have worth and that our inner worth cannot be taken away. Maybe she’s lacking in certain areas of awareness and cannot see the hurt she is carrying.

When we don’t address what’s within, it can fester and affect how we interact with others.

To be clear, I’m not justifying abusive behaviour between us and it’s okay to set boundaries with others. I’m simply explaining why some of us may struggle. It’s because, as black women, we all go through things we don’t tell each other. But maybe we can change that. Maybe we can begin by creating a space for being vulnerable about our struggles, so we can help each other.

In the past, I was less empathetic in this area because I didn’t recognize how my trauma and others’ trauma created stumbling blocks in our lives, but therapy allows you to be vulnerable — and vulnerability is the start of learning to have empathy for yourself and others. I now have empathy for other black women who are struggling in certain areas, because I am on a journey to healing.

Regarding the divide in our community, we can amend this by normalizing therapy, having healthy conversations, practicing self-love, and having grace for ourselves. Overall, it comes down to an awareness of self, our behaviours, and being honest about the parts of us that may need work.

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If you feel you are struggling in certain areas and feel ashamed, don’t. I think berating yourself doesn’t lead to solutions and solutions are what we need to strengthen our community. Also, what you feel and what you experience does not make you a bad person because no one is perfect and we all have room to grow.

We all go through challenges and we are trying our best with what we know to understand ourselves and relate to others. However, I think being aware of behaviour that isn’t healthy for yourself or others is necessary for growth. This part is the hardest because confronting traits in ourselves that need change can feel very uncomfortable.

But see your emotions as your teachers and not your enemy.

Another reason I sought therapy is because I was tired of feeling ashamed about how I felt when, in reality, I didn’t want to feel that way yet I didn’t know how to help myself.

Sometimes, it makes all the difference to have someone else to confide in who’s also qualified to teach you how to control your emotional reactions better. No one is perfect and there is no shame in saying, “I’m struggling with my self-esteem or XYZ and I need support.”

If there’s anything that I’ve learned on my journey so far, it’s that getting support and being vulnerable with yourself about what you are feeling is better than suffering in silence and believing that what you feel is shameful.

In the black community, we sometimes judge one another instead of lifting each other up. Many of us also grew up believing that our emotions weren’t important, or we didn’t have a safe space to share them.

Therapy is helpful because you are encouraged to open up and it will become normal for you to candidly communicate to someone without fear that you are being judged. Therapy may not be an option for you right away (it wasn’t for me because of its cost), but work on making it a goal if you are looking for emotional support. There are resources and affordable therapy may be available.

We can also fix this divide by having empathy for others who are struggling and being kind to other black women around us. We can smile at women we encounter, compliment them, share their work, comment on their work, say positive things about them, and be open to conversations that push toward growth instead of shade or gossip.

We can fix this divide by committing ourselves to healing. It takes work; it doesn’t happen overnight; it requires honesty with self and it may not be easy, but it’s necessary.

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Being a woman, let alone a black woman is difficult. As women, we are already sometimes critical of ourselves, and going through challenges alone without the support of our black sisters makes it 10x harder.

I pray we can all reach a place of self-love and acceptance within ourselves so that we can realize we have always been talented, beautiful, worthy, smart, gifted, and brave. We are black women and we are enough — our hair, our skin, our presence, our achievements, and our legacy.

Another black woman may be the first to achieve something great, but she was the first and through her, you can see what is possible for you. Her win doesn’t make you any less valuable. You are unique; you are talented, and you are YOU for a reason. Another black woman possessing favourable qualities doesn’t take away from your worth, it only adds to our greatness as a unit.

Healing is not only an inside job, but it’s also the key to connecting with others, and as black women, we need each other. Our sisterhood not only protects us, but it elevates us. There is nothing more rewarding than being seen and supported by another black woman, especially as it pertains to our achievements. Our support for each other makes us feel valued and also less alone on our journeys.

However, we can’t have healthy sisterhood if we aren’t vulnerable about our struggles or if we continue to judge one another, put each other down, and withhold resources from each other — this only continues to divide us. The only way for us to have healthy sisterhood is if we heal ourselves, so we can help each other.

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