Standing on the Frontline

I finally got a new job. It’s not full-time hours yet, but it’s enough to cover my bills and expenses—and I’m grateful. Two months without a job felt like an eternity. The stress was heavy. There were days where I didn’t know how I was going to make it, and I had to take it one day at a time.

Some unexpected blessings came through when I needed them most, and that reminded me that I’m not forgotten. I’m finally breathing a little easier. I’m not as stressed as I was before, and that’s a gift I don’t take lightly.

But this chapter hasn’t just been about money. It’s also been about my relationship.

Some of the stress I’ve been carrying bled into my relationship, and we’ve had some hard conversations. The kind where you sit across from someone you love and you don’t sugarcoat a thing. I don’t think I’ve ever been this honest before, but it felt necessary.

In every relationship I’ve ever had, I’ve felt like I was carrying the weight of two people. It’s never been intentional on their part, but I’ve always been ready to dive in, fix things, come up with solutions, give advice, and hold everything together. And my partners… they usually let me. Even when I said I wanted a true partnership. They seemed to believe my actions more than my words, assuming, She can handle it.

But the truth is—I’m tired.

I’ve seen so many videos about Black women wanting the “soft life”—having a partner who leads, protects, and allows you to rest in your feminine energy. And I wonder… what does that feel like? I’ve never had it.

In every area of my life, I’ve had to be the leader and the protector for myself. I’ve been my own parent, my own cheerleader, my own sister, my own best friend. I had no choice. And it’s exhausting to always be the one standing on the frontline.

And don’t get me wrong—he’s done kind things for me. He’s checked in on my mental health. He’s tried to show his appreciation by getting me things I needed. I know gifts are one of his love languages, and when finances are tight it’s hard to show that. But my love language is time and consideration. I just want to be seen and held. I felt like we were there at one time and place… I’m just not sure how we got off track.

I want mutual protection. I want a partnership where I can pour into someone and they pour back into me. I want to know that the person who says they love me will stand with me—not behind me or somewhere on the sidelines. We have a saying before I leave for work and it used to always encourage me. He would call me a beautiful strong black woman and lately I told him I don’t want to be strong anymore. So today he called “vulnerable” and somehow that felt even worse. I don’t want to feel vulnerable or like I can become an easy target. I told him I’m “soft and feminine.” It just doesn’t feel the same.

I just want to be seen as someone strong and capable of handling things on my own yes but in the eyes of someone that loves me I’m still delicate. I’m still soft and beautiful and I have a light and a love so pure it needs to be protected. That should been seen in me not explained.

My inner child aches because she just wants to be safe, valued, and loved. And yet, here I am, giving and giving, and it never feels fully reciprocated. I’ve experienced that my entire life.

I’ve thought about walking this world alone. I’ve thought about cutting everyone off and protecting my peace, even if it means loneliness. But deep down, I know I want love. Real love. And that means I have to keep speaking up for my needs and keep holding space for the life I know I deserve.

Love always.

Xo,

Nina.