When “Strong” is Just Survival…
A Love Letter to High-Achieving Brown Girls
The thing about being a high-achieving brown girl is…people rarely believe you when you say you’re not okay.
Because “not okay” doesn’t look like what they expect. It doesn’t look like lying in bed all day with the curtains closed. It doesn’t look like skipping work, or crying in public, or falling apart in ways that are visible.
For us, “not okay” looks like showing up to the meeting five minutes early with color-coded notes. It looks like a 4.0 GPA, a killer LinkedIn profile, and being the go-to person for “who has it together.”
But inside? Your body is screaming.
“I’m Fine” Actually Means My Back Hurts and I Haven’t Slept in Weeks
Depression and anxiety in brown girls doesn’t always come as tears—it comes as tension. Tight shoulders. Back pain. The constant headache you call “just stress.” It’s your body carrying generational weight like it’s a family heirloom.
We weren’t taught to fall apart—we were taught to over-function. To push through. To be excellent so no one could question our worth. Control became our coping mechanism. Achievement became our armor.
And yes, that armor got us far. Degrees. Jobs. The immigrant-dream parents brag about to their WhatsApp group chats.
But here’s the catch: the armor is heavy. And after a while, you forget what’s underneath it.
When Success Looks Good. But Feels… Meh
The truth is, being “the strong one” feels safe…until it doesn’t. Until you wake up one day and realize:
You have no idea what actually makes you happy outside of your résumé.
Your body hurts all the time, but you can’t remember the last time you actually rested.
You can control your to-do list, but not the quiet ache of loneliness that follows you around.
High achievement gave us survival, but it robbed us of softness. Of play. Of knowing who we are when we’re not performing.
Hustle Mode Is Not a Personality…
Here’s the funny part (and by funny I mean the “if I don’t laugh I’ll cry” kind): the very habits that helped us succeed are the ones that keep us stuck now.
Like…how am I supposed to “just relax” when my nervous system thinks productivity is oxygen? How am I supposed to “find myself” when I’ve spent decades shape-shifting into whatever version of me got the A, the job, the approval?
It’s almost laughable, except it’s not. Because behind the curated success is a generation of brown girls wondering why the life we worked so hard for feels empty.
The Real Glow-Up: Softness, Rest, and Actually Knowing Yourself
The real glow-up isn’t another promotion or another degree. The real flex is learning how to be.
It’s choosing rest without guilt.
It’s letting your body unclench.
It’s asking: Who am I when I’m not hustling for worth?
That’s where the healing starts. Not in another gold star, but in finally laying the armor down.
💙 If you’re reading this and thinking, “Wow, that’s me,” I want you to know—you’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re just tired of surviving. Therapy can be the space where you remember who you are underneath the achievement.
👉 If you’re looking for a therapist in Florida, Virginia, Washington D.C., or any of the 42 PSYPACT states, I’d love to walk that journey with you.
I’m one of you. The girl who looked polished on the outside but carried chaos on the inside. The one who turned control, achievement, and “being the strong one” into survival skills—until they started breaking me instead of saving me.
✨ Read my story here → Dr. Kay’s Story
