Respecting the Roads We Choose:
Black Womanhood, Motherhood, and the Healing Power of Seeing Each Other
“You’re so smart. Imagine what you could’ve been if you hadn’t had all those kids.”
A relative who will remain nameless once expressed to me a frustration that could equally stem from my needing their assistance and or from their deeply held antagonistic beliefs about people (mainly women) who had children out of wedlock.
“You had all the babies we lost.”
Another “married” individual who experienced the pain of pregnancy loss responded to the news of my out-of-wedlock pregnancy with my fourth baby, perhaps as a means to comfort both herself and me for what she perceived as some divine scale balancing for our shared yet divergent losses.
*******
What neither of these individuals realized:
I already was something- something complex, accomplished, deeply loving, and still healing.
Despite my deep sympathy for their loss, I didn’t need my unborn child to be some cosmic balancing of the scales gift and wonder for them to be valuable, precious, and readily welcomed into my life as an already single mother.
Both of these individuals, like many others, fail to interrogate the fact that whether I've had many babies or none at all, my choices as a woman regarding my body, reproduction, and family expansion can always be weaponized against me or any woman, given the right... or wrong circumstances.
This blog reflects how we, as Black women, often inherit and absorb ideas about womanhood that are shaped more by capitalist patriarchy than by any genuine concern for our well-being. I write as a therapist, a womanist, and a mother of four, with my first child arriving just before I turned 21. I write as someone who has experienced shame, underestimation, and mischaracterization and has also worked to unpack some of the ways I once participated in those same judgments.
All Roads Are Worthy
and all roads are unique….
The Binary That Breaks Us
In my work and personal healing, I’ve observed a recurring tension between two groups: child-free Black women and Black mothers. Despite often sharing more in common than not, both groups can find themselves at opposite ends of judgment, misunderstanding, and resentment.
Childfree women are often labeled as selfish or unnatural as if their worth is solely tied to reproductive labor. Mothers, mainly single and/or young mothers, are portrayed as irresponsible or tragic cautionary tales, especially when one is a never-married, financially struggling, visibly exhausted single mom like me.
But this discord doesn't arise from nowhere. It flourishes in the soil of internalized misogyny, misogynoir, and capitalist patriarchy that encourages us to distrust one another instead of questioning the systems that harm us both.
Internalized Misogyny and the Policing of Choice
Internalized misogyny leads us to believe there is only one way to be a respectable woman—and that way typically pleases men, prioritizes their needs, and conforms to tidy, middle-class, heteronormative scripts (Bearman et al., 2009).
While raising my children and completing my undergraduate and graduate studies, I encountered moments when people doubted my intellect or ability to finish my programs. Some struggled to reconcile my perceived promiscuity and lack of discipline with my academic pursuits.
The religious institutions, such as the church, where I sought support and contributed through tithes, offerings, and unpaid labor, claimed to value family but often reserved their genuine support for families that fit a specific mold.
Now, as a therapist and a womanist, I’m often assumed to be “man-hating,” bitter, or intent on counseling women to leave their partners—none of which is true. I respect women who choose to be with men, those who choose not to, and those still figuring it out. All choices are valid. Autonomy is sacred.
Misogynoir and the Pathologizing of Black Motherhood
Misogynoir—the distinct hatred directed at Black women—adds another layer of stigma (Bailey, 2010). While white mothers might be perceived as “overwhelmed,” Black mothers are often viewed as irresponsible. Our children are labeled as “burdens,” and our families are considered “broken,” even when we are doing everything we can to nurture and support them.
These constructs can manifest in the judgment and criticism that Black mothers face, often being scrutinized more harshly than their counterparts (Pickens, 2019).
a mother of four who sometimes faces financial instability and does not conform to traditional marriage, I embody a contradiction in a society that celebrates the “strong Black woman” trope yet punishes her for being visible.
Capitalist Patriarchy and the Deification of the Nuclear Family
We are told that family is sacred—but only a specific type of family. The nuclear model is idealized in capitalist patriarchal culture because it depends on traditional gender roles that undervalue and fail to compensate for women’s labor (hooks, 2000).
As I have evolved spiritually and politically, I have come to question this model deeply. I have found inspiration in ancient societies like Çatalhöyük, where women were respected as leaders and communal caregiving was the norm. My love for my children has not changed, but my definition of' family” has. I honor the feminine, the collective, and the non-hierarchical.
Still, these values can feel like a perilous indulgence in a society that equates single motherhood with neglect. Sometimes, I wonder: am I being selfish for rejecting patriarchy when the world still revolves around it? Does my refusal to conceptualize having a family “the right way” unequivocally mean one virginal woman marrying one (likely older) financially established man (in relation to the aforementioned virgin woman) and subsequently readily reproducing 2.5 biological children?
Healing Beyond the Binary
What I’ve come to understand is this: all women’s choices are scrutinized under patriarchy. Mothers are shamed for “doing too much” or “not doing enough.” Childfree women are told they’ll be lonely, unfulfilled, or useless. Our pain and defensiveness often get redirected at each other instead of toward the systems that benefit from our disconnection.
We lash out instead of leaning in. We see other women’s choices as threats rather than reflections of the vastness of womanhood. But healing is possible.
Valuing All Women's Choices
Motherhood is a complex and nuanced journey filled with layered emotions. Choosing to honor oneself by deciding to remain child-free can undoubtedly evoke intricate feelings in a society that assumes, if not dictates, procreation as a prerequisite for adulthood.
In both scenarios ( and countless other options for existing in this life), there will be intentional and unintentional consequences. Great joys and significant challenges may arise that could lead anyone to deeply reflect on their choices. Questioning one's decisions is a natural human phenomenon, and wondering "what could have been" does not signify regret. Choosing to have children isn't an insurance policy for old age, nor is remaining child-free a sign of vanity or failure to fulfill a societal purpose.
What Dismantling Internalized Misogyny Can Offer Us
Healing this divide isn’t just about solidarity. It’s about freedom.
Autonomy: Reclaiming the power to make and stand in our choices without apology.
Compassion: Respecting others' choices, even when they differ from ours.
Curiosity: Asking questions, not making assumptions.
Insight: Knowing that someone else’s journey doesn’t diminish our own.
And if there’s one thing I want for all women—whether they're holding babies or holding space for themselves—it’s permission. Permission to live, choose, evolve, and change course without shame.
💬 *What road have you chosen—and how has it shaped you?*
Share your story in the comments. Your truth matters here. 💛
References
Bailey, M. (2010). They aren’t talking about me…: The invisibility of Black women and intersectionality in academic analyses of digital media. Feminist Media Studies, 10(1), 59–63.
Bearman, S., Korobov, N., & Thorne, A. (2009). The fabric of internalized sexism. Journal of Integrated Social Sciences, 1(1), 10–47.
hooks, b. (2000). Feminism is for everybody: Passionate politics. South End Press.
Pickens, J. (2019, January 30). Black women have to keep pushing back against internalized misogynoir. The Black Youth Project. https://blackyouthproject.com/
