From Strong Black Woman to Self-Care Advocate: My Battle with Burnout and Mental Health

Avery reflects on her journey with burnout and mental health, detailing how cultural expectations of the "strong Black woman" led her to ignore signs of burnout during and after university. Despite achieving academic and career success, she struggled with persistent exhaustion and a lack of motivation, eventually realizing these were symptoms of burnout.

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I was in my last year of University when I first heard of the term ‘burnout’. At that time, I was already going to therapy to help manage my anxiety and depression; both were things I had lived with for years, however, the 7+ classes I took to graduate at a certain time only increased the negative effects of those mental illnesses. I was at that time, suspected to be on the spectrum by my therapist and was making plans to go through the rigorous test to seek a proper diagnosis. 

Unfortunately, around this time is when I started losing interest in the things I used to love; I called myself lazy and unmotivated back then, and now I know I was experiencing burnout. 

During college, I continued to push through my studies and eventually graduated however, my mental health still suffered even after. I found myself not enjoying the things I used to, not having the enthusiasm to pick up my usual hobbies or crafts, and more importantly, my desire to work was just not there. Basic things like showering, eating and even getting out of bed in the morning became a hassle about a year to three years after I had graduated.

I didn’t understand. I pushed hard to finish those classes, got my degree, got a job…so what was wrong with me?

Once again, the word ‘burnout’ popped into my head, but I pushed it away as I did so many years ago. I ignored it, I refused to believe there was a reason behind my faltering mental health. Despite my mental decline and the growing problems around me, I was still in denial. 

After a bit of self-reflecting, and understanding my own cultural biases, I began to understand why. 

As a Black woman, in my community, I am supposed to be strong. Words like mental health, depression and anxiety are taboo in our spaces. While on the outside, I’ve seen discussion about fixing the mental health of the community, most of that is surface level at best and doesn’t address the deeply rooted, intracommunity struggles that are behind mental health disparities. More importantly, most mental health initiatives are centered around Black men, not Black women.

I am a Black woman, and since I’ve been a child, I have been taught that Black women must shoulder our pain and carry it with a smile. We have to be tough, strong, and unbreakable. For centuries, Black women have been pivotal rocks in the Black community, and among ourselves, there has been this idea that we must be strong, and willing to face anything that comes our way.

I internalized this since I was a child. Until I graduated college, I believed that as a Black woman and even a Black girl, mental health issues like burnout did not impact me.  

It took some soul-searching to realize eventually, how hypocritical and how unfair I was being to myself. I had been in therapy for a year, my last two semesters of college. I had been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, I’d gone through steps to cope, I was suspected of being on the spectrum and I still carried an ableist mindset with me.

I did not allow myself to “experience” burnout because as a Black woman, I believed burnout meant being lazy. Even as I started to accept my depression, anxiety, and identity as someone at the time, was newly discovering they were on the spectrum, cultural attitudes and the way I grew up prevented me from allowing myself to accept that I was experiencing burnout. 

It was and still is a deconstruction process of being kinder to myself, and not allowing the world’s or my community’s view on Black women to dictate how I allow myself to navigate and heal. When I allowed myself to fully accept that because of my mental health and factors around me, I was experiencing burnout, I was able to get help. Online forums, talking to professionals, books, etc., and just finding communities with people like me made it easier for me to give myself grace, and allow me ways to work through my burnout. 

That still doesn’t mean that things have been easy, and every day, as I take better care of my mental health I still find myself battling what my mind thinks I should be able to handle as a Black woman. Growing up, the idea of a “strong” Black woman was drilled into my mind, and I saw that attitude manifest its way in the Black women around me. They had no time for mental healthcare, therapy, or discussions about burnout. As I mentioned before, they simply powered through their pain and I was expected to follow in their footsteps.

I’m glad that I didn’t, though it saddens me to realize that there are still many women who look like me who are suffering in silence when it comes to their mental health. Black women like me, instead of accepting they are experiencing burnout, push away the mere thought in fear of being viewed as weak by the community, and inevitably, they end up overworking themselves. 

While at the end of the day, I hope better for my community, I continue to do what I can to make sure that my mental health is okay, as I work through this burnout. I make sure not to put a lot on my plate and give myself grace if I don’t have the energy to do all I planned. What I’ve discovered is that burnout doesn’t go away in a day. Sometimes it takes months, in my case, it’s taken years. I am still navigating where I am mentally, and finding ways to push through. However, accepting that I was dealing with burnout, and not seeing it as this shamefully, lazy thing is what helped me.

I am a lot better now than I was back then, and I’m doing what I can for my mental health.