You are super, human. You don’t need to be a superhuman.
You are super, human. You don’t need to be a superhuman.
What does it feel like in your body to be accepting of the support around you? Do you feel safe to express your needs fully? Are there any sensations you notice to reinforce that you’re being heard and cared for, in response? Sit with this feeling for a moment. This is the warmth of ease that truly only comes from nurturing support, whatever that may look like in your mind’s eye.
Everyone deserves to have this peace. The feeling that you just embodied is the personification of what it might feel like to have a doula as part of your team. A doula is a person who offers physical, emotional or educational support during varying stages of your fertile lifespan.
The practice of this type of care has dated back generations, with mothers, aunties, grandmothers and mother-like energy nurturing the mother who is being born and is simultaneously grieving her maiden skin. Fast forward and we live further from our matriarchal lineage, have a hard time connecting intimately or the maternal energy is accessible only in the realm of spirit. But that’s not why we hire doulas. Even if we have a team of kin, we still call on kith to step in when it all becomes too much, because it takes a village to raise a parent, who will be a pillar in raising their young. That is why we hire doula support.
In this work, all too often you hear a pregnant person ask why they might want or need a doula. Ultimately, everyone’s why is their own, a doula might firstly ask where you feel you need the most support. You may feel you’d like educational resources or help managing visitors, postpartum. You may need an extra set of hands or arms for chores around the house or holding babe while you shower or get a quick nap in. I’ve heard doula work referred to as a luxury, most often from those who don’t see the true value in having a moment not to feel stretched thin and exhausted, with a crowd of people hoping to hold baby, not giving a second thought about your journey to WHOLE-istic healing.
We, as back women, find ourselves playing this role. The strong one who doesn’t ever need to put anything down. We saw our mothers do it without complaint and her mother, on and on. So we must, too, hold up this standard, right? WRONG.
Not long ago, I was reading an excerpt out of Culture, Diversity and Mental Health- Enhancing Clinical Practice[1]. An entry by Ingrid Waldron on the topic of archetypes, which happens to be an ongoing study for me. What is an archetype? Put simply, an archetype is a reoccurring symbol in art, writing, mythology and lore. As we all know, life imitates art and these symbols are often first found in living, breathing form. Ingrid breaks down the six archetypes that are known to be portrayed of the black feminine energy “since slavery and have informed perceptions of black women as strong, invulnerable and non-human.” These six symbols are black woman as Mammy, Matriarch, Welfare Mother, Jezebel, Sapphire and Superwoman, according to Waldron.
The focus of this post will hone in and expand on Black femininity being equated to superhuman performance expectations; not only from outside the community, but also as we look among our sisters. There is a crippling pressure to balance the world on our little finger and it’s finally time we see that trend laid to rest.
As Ingrid began unearthing some of the learned behaviors we see from the superwoman role, I reflected on a twitter thread[2] that was brought to my attention, of black women shamelessly ridiculing one mother for hiring a doula for nighttime support. Many commenters scoffing at the privilege associated with this style of care and remarks of assumed weakness for this mother’s ability to recognize a need for support and act on it. A few hours of uninterrupted rest is not a and should not be looked at as a luxury instead of a basic human need to function and feel well. Let us not get roped into the thought that this mother is relinquishing her duty to her child, because she isn’t. She is upholding a duty to herself, in the act of committing to caring for her healing body. By sharing online, the intention was probably to show other black mothers that it’s okay to delegate, to rest and to put down the weight for a moment so you can breathe and was met with a sour taste for help-seeking.
In alignment with the superhuman role, black mothers often feel shame for needing support and this often leads to instances of decline in mental wellness.The stigma of mental illness in our culture catapults struggling mothers into the depths of masking their pain to maintain the illusion of “strong”. These types of lashes from supposed allies/sisters, is the tip of the iceberg when unpacking interpersonal violence. The roots of this behavior are ingrained in generations of programing black women to ignore their emotions and overall humanity in exchange for being the back bone of society. We see this integrated by way of practices dating back to slavery. Under this lens, we combine archetypes of mammy and superhero with black women being valued as wet nurses and aides to rearing of children, in the same instant, violently abused. We cannot, as a society continue this perpetual cycle of violence toward black women. We as black womxn deserve un-ridiculed nurturing support and black mothers deserve doulas to help their transition into parenthood. We are radiant in our own right. We are super, humans. That doesn’t mean we are superhuman.
References
[1] Archetypes of Black Womanhood
[2] https://slate.com/human-interest/2021/11/postpartum-doulas-black-mothers-childcare-sleep.html