Diary of A Mad Black Woman

The feeling of double consciousness is draining. I would like to argue that black women have a triple consciousness. We see our fathers and brothers die, we see our mothers and sisters carrying their crosses along with the crosses of our fallen family. We harbor the anger of past generations of our wombs.

They used to deny our ancestors literacy; now they suppress our education through sanitized curriculums, whitewashed history, and systemic gatekeeping. We encourage people to bear their own demons, but when we look closely in the mirror, what have you done to remove the poison that society poured into our own vessels?

We are asked to be strong when we want to be soft. We are asked to lead when we want to rest. We are expected to swallow our rage so the room feels comfortable, while our spirits scream for justice and peace.

In my Vodou practice, our anger is not useless—it is alchemical. It is the fire that cleanses, the salt that protects, and the voice of the Ancestors demanding that we no longer shrink. This diary is for every Black woman who has been told she is 'too much' when she is finally choosing herself.