Embracing My Boldness: I Am Not Aggressive, Too Much, or Scary

I was one of the “token” Black girls in a religious cult.  We were the Black family that racists would point to and say, “I’m not racist; I have a Black friend.” Meet me, the Black friend.

I grew up in a space where my Blackness was always present but rarely truly embraced, but permanently corrected!   It was tolerated, maybe even acknowledged in the most superficial ways, but never celebrated.  My presence was often pointed out, but not in a way that made me feel seen or valued.  I was expected to minimize myself and shrink my voice, energy, and presence.  The world around me was set up in a way that made me feel like something about me, something about my humanity, was too much.  And for years, I tried to conform.

I was told that my voice was too loud, my energy too firm, and my movements too bold.  I was labeled as “aggressive,” “intimidating,” or “scary” simply because I was confident, loud, and unapologetic. The truth is, I was never aggressive.  I was merely alive, passionate, and myself.

For so long, I allowed others’ discomfort with my presence to shape how I showed up in the world.  I tried to hide my true self, hoping to blend in, to be accepted, to not make anyone uncomfortable.  But now, I understand something powerful: I am not aggressive.  I am passionate, and I am not too much.  I am whole; I am not scared.  I am powerful.  This journey of self-acceptance is a testament to the power of embracing our true selves. It's a journey that took me from feeling unseen to being celebrated, and I hope it inspires you to do the same.

But everything changed when I went to Africa.  I understand that Africa is not a country but a continent full of countries.  Each country has its diverse cultural experiences.  The very essence of blackness is bathed in diversity.  My blackness is rooted deep in the soil of the continent of Africa.

In Africa, I learned something about myself that I had never known before. I spent time in Nigeria, around the Yoruba women, and witnessed the incredible strength of Zimbabwean women in London. I was surrounded by boldness, confidence, and an unapologetic presence.  The women there embodied power in ways I had never seen before.  They spoke with strength, moved through life with grace, and laughed loudly and unapologetically. 

At first, I thought they were “aggressive” or “too much,” but I quickly realized that what I witnessed wasn’t aggression—it was love.  It was confidence. It was boldness.  I had been conditioned to see strength in Black women as something to fear or minimize.  But in Africa, I saw strength as something beautiful.  I saw it as a celebration of everything we are as Black women—our heritage, power, and ability to exist unapologetically in spaces that were never made for us.

I joined the women in the kitchen, listened to their conversations and stories, and realized something profound: My presence was never something to shrink.  I was accepted for who I was and didn’t have to apologize for being strong, confident, or loud.  I was invited into their space and world, and I was reminded of my roots, my true identity.

This journey taught me that I am not aggressive, passionate, or too much. I am whole, not scary, and powerful.  These labels, placed upon me by others, no longer hold any hold over me.  I have learned to embrace my movements and voice.  I’ve also learned to embrace my laughter, joy, and freedom   I laugh without fear, speak without hesitation, and live unapologetically.  This is not just a journey of self-acceptance but a journey of liberation and empowerment.

I’ve come to learn that Black women are often labeled with these terms—“aggressive,” “too much,” and  “scary”—because our presence challenges the status quo.  It’s not that we’re intimidating; society has conditioned us to shrink in the face of anything bold, strong, and unapologetically honest.  But I refuse to shrink any longer.  I refuse to apologize for who I am.

I embrace my body.  I embrace my curves, fullness, and how I carry myself.  For years, I thought I had to hide parts of myself—my body, voice, and laughter—because they were too bold.  But now I know that my body is not something to shrink.  It’s something to celebrate.  It’s a gift reflecting my heritage, history, and the mighty woman I’ve grown into.

My laugh, too, is something I once held back.  I was told it was too loud, too much, not “ladylike.” But now, I know my laugh is a declaration.  It is not something to apologize for.  It’s the sound of my joy, freedom, and refusal to be silenced.  I laugh loudly, freely, and unapologetically.  I laugh because I am alive.  After all, I am me, and I will not hide that.

I no longer need to shrink or adjust to make anyone more comfortable.  I am here, and I deserve to take up space.  I am not aggressive, I am not too much, and I am not scary.  I am divine, precisely as I am.

Black women, we are not aggressive.  We are passionate, and we are not too much.  We are whole.   e are not scary.  We are powerful.  Let us laugh loudly.  Let us dance freely.  Let us speak boldly.  We are here to take up all the space we deserve, without fear, without apology.  We are exactly what we are meant to be, which is divine.  Let’s celebrate our identity, strength, and power.  We have every reason to be proud of who we are. This is a message of empowerment and self-acceptance that I hope will uplift and encourage you.