Happy Mother's Day! Celebrating The Women In Your Tribe

Motherhood is a universal calling, but for Black women, it is a legacy—a sacred inheritance passed down through generations of resilience, wisdom, and radical love. To be a Black mother is to walk through this world with the weight of history in one hand and the hope for the future in the other. It is to mother through joy and struggle, often simultaneously, and still rise each morning with a heart big enough to hold it all.

Black mothers and mother figures — grandmothers, Godmothers, cousins, and aunties– influence every corner of our lives. They are our first teachers, our fiercest advocates, and often the silent architects of our communities. Whether it’s the auntie who made sure we never went without, the church mother who prayed us through, or the godmother who showed up when life got too heavy—Black womanhood has always expanded to include mothering in all its forms. Their impact is felt in how we speak, how we love, how we lead, and how we dream.

For me, that influence has been deeply personal. My mother’s strength taught me how to carry pain with grace. My grandmothers taught me tradition, faith, and how to make something out of nothing. My aunts poured into me with tough love, laughter, and unshakable loyalty. And my older cousins modeled what it means to mother with both tenderness and tenacity. They didn’t just raise me—they shaped me into the woman and mother I am today. I carry their lessons in my spirit, their prayers in my steps, and their wisdom in how I raise my own children and model myself as everyone’s favorite auntie. They ushered me into womanhood unapologetically and influenced me in every way- style, beauty, love and faith.

Black mothers are the heartbeat of our culture. We are the nurturers, the protectors, the providers, and the peacekeepers. We are the calm before the storm and we can be the storm when needed because we don’t play about our babies. We create homes out of nothing. We turn scarcity into abundance. And we raise children to believe in their brilliance—even when the world refuses to see it.

But let’s be honest: it isn’t always easy. The truth is, Black mothers often mother without a net. We face maternal health disparities that threaten our very lives. We are more likely to be single mothers not by choice, but because of systems designed to dismantle our families. We endure cultural critiques that question our worthiness while juggling the roles of mother, worker, healer, and teacher.

Yet still—we mother.

We mother through grief. Through illness. Through exhaustion. Through jobs that don’t pay us what we deserve and through policies that were never written with us in mind. And still, we show up. With love. With purpose. With strength that defies logic.

The joy of watching our babies thrive in spaces we were never allowed to enter. The joy of braiding their hair while whispering affirmations into their scalp. The joy of passing down recipes, lullabies, and that look only a Black mama can give when her child is acting up, especially in church.

Black motherhood is cultural, political, and deeply spiritual. It is not just about raising children—it’s about raising a generation, a village, a legacy. And for all the ways the world tries to ignore, silence, or erase us, we keep creating and birthing and building.

We deserve more than a single day in May. We deserve policy, protection, and peace. We deserve rest. We deserve to be mothered, too.

So today, let this be a reminder: Black mothers, you are more than enough. Your love is revolutionary. Your presence is powerful. And your motherhood—however it shows up—is worthy of honor, every single day.

Happy Mother’s Day! Celebrating The Women In Your Tribe  was originally published on ionehellobeautiful.staging.go.ione.nyc