Many people have attributed my tenacity as resilience and tbh I don't really identify with being resilient. I just feel like I happen to inhabit a body that refuses to die. A mind that chugs along despite all obstacles. A personality that is a force of nature. And a spirit that is unrelenting. Maybe that is the very definition of resilience to some people. But to me resilience is something assigned to people of color, especially Black people, in order to glorify our capacity for the tolerance of great pain and struggle. As if assigning resilience is some sort of compliment of courage when the reality is we are just doing our best to survive among a variety of unfair life obstacles and circumstances. A similar sentiment of the "strong Black woman" trope. Meant to be a compliment, a testament to the ability of Black women to triumph in the face of adversity. To be independent and to take care of ourselves without the assistance of others, especially a man. But we all need others. We all need men. And women. People. Human beings are not designed to thrive in individuality. We are meant to lean on one another, to grow with each other, support one another, pick each other up when we fall down, guide, love, and lead one another. Being known for resilience and strength disallows vulnerability. It disallows for failure. Weakness. Struggle. Strife. And it breeds intolerance and lack of empathy for those who are unfortunate enough to fall under these tropes. I, for one, am tired of being resilient and strong. I want a big strong person to pick me up, care for me, love me and all my flaws, and not expect me to bear the weight of the world on my shoulders at all times. I have so much to give and I am also tired of giving without receiving anything back. I am constantly failed by my society. And while I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by much love and support, it took a long time and many failed relationships to get to this point. And even now I still doubt how long these relationships will last. Maybe that is the insecure part of me. When will my loved ones, my friends, family members, etc. finally tire of aiding me and give up on me entirely? What a lonely thought and feeling. The thoughts and feelings of someone who has become so accustomed to lifting up everyone else around her that the idea that others would continue to do the same for her is unfathomable. Maybe one day things will be different. Maybe one day I'll be able to relax. Maybe one day I'll believe these relationships are ever lasting. One day. But until then I’ll be feeling much like this illustration I drew titled “Alone in the Universe”.