Pray Eat Slay

Black Maternal Health Week is not just a campaign. It is a reminder that our voices matter, our experiences are real, and our lives are worth protecting.

Back in 2011, I went to the hospital because my water broke. I wasn’t in pain yet, so I drove myself, calm but aware that something had changed. I knew my body. I had just used the restroom, stood up, and felt a gush of fluid that I knew wasn’t normal.

But when I was seen, the doctor on call dismissed me. He told me I had simply urinated on myself.

I remember feeling embarrassed in that moment, but more than that, I remember knowing he was wrong. Still, I went home.

Later, I called again because I was worried. My baby wasn’t moving the way they had been. Instead of being told to come in, I was advised to keep walking and drink milk. That advice sat with me for two long, uncomfortable days. I went to work, hunched over in pain, dealing with cramps that didn’t feel right, trying to convince myself everything would be okay.

By Thursday, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I called my mom, and while she stayed on the phone with me, she timed my contractions. Two minutes apart.

When I finally made it back to the hospital, everything had escalated. I had a fever. My baby had an infection. What should have been handled days earlier had now turned into something serious.

Then that same doctor walked into the room and asked me why I didn’t come back when my water broke.

I looked him straight in the eye and said, “You told me I peed on myself.”

The look on his face said everything.

In that moment, something shifted in me. Any trust I could have had in him was gone. I knew I had to advocate for myself in a way I never had before. I told him he would not touch me and to get someone else.

And I meant it.

This is why Black Maternal Health Week matters. Because too many Black women are dismissed. Too many of us are not heard when we speak up about our own bodies. Too many of us are forced to advocate for ourselves in moments when we should be cared for without question.

I knew my body. I spoke up. And still, I wasn’t listened to.

That should never be the norm.

There’s something I’ve had to sit with lately, and honestly, it hasn’t been easy to admit.

I know I’m good at what I do. Not in a bragging way, but in a grounded and proven way. I show up prepared. I take ownership. I care about the outcome, not just checking a box. When something needs to get done, I don’t hesitate. I step in, I figure it out, and I make sure it’s handled the right way.

That part of me is something I’m proud of.

But here’s the part I’ve had to really reflect on. The same demeanor and dedication that make me effective can also make people feel like I’m combative.

That realization hit me.

Because in my mind, I’m not arguing. I’m advocating. I’m not pushing back to be difficult. I’m pushing because I care about standards, about people, and about getting it right. I ask questions because I want clarity. I speak up because silence doesn’t fix problems.

But I’ve learned something important. Intent does not always match impact.

And that matters.

I’ve realized that when you’re confident, direct, and consistent, not everyone experiences that as leadership. Sometimes it feels like pressure. Sometimes it feels like confrontation. And sometimes, especially in environments where not everyone operates at the same level of urgency or accountability, it can come across as too much.

And let me be clear. My 4’11 self is not here to put anyone down. But in the same breath, I should not have to dim my light to make others comfortable.

That does not mean I need to shrink myself.

But it does mean I need to be more aware.

I don’t want to lose my edge. I don’t want to water down my standards or stop caring deeply about my work. That is part of what makes me who I am. But I do want to grow in how I deliver it. I want people to feel led, not challenged. Supported, not scrutinized.

There is a balance there, and I am learning it.

I am learning that tone matters just as much as content. That how I say something can carry more weight than what I am actually saying. That leadership is not just about being right. It is about being effective with people.

And here’s the truth. I can still be strong, still be direct, still be excellent without making others feel like they have to defend themselves around me.

That is the level I am working toward.

Growth is not always about fixing something that is broken. Sometimes it is about refining something that is already strong.

And that is where I am right now. Refining.

Because I know who I am. I know what I bring to the table.

Now I am making sure people can feel that in the right way too.