Admitting When Things Are Hard: Redefining Black Excellence Through Vulnerability

For a long time, I chose not to let anyone see me struggle. I believed that by keeping my challenges to myself, I was preserving my energy and avoiding the appearance of complaining. I was determined to stay strong, to uphold the idea of Black excellence by never showing signs of weakness or fatigue. The problem was, I wasn’t sharing how hard things really were, and people around me had no idea what I was overcoming. Without realizing it, I was giving the impression that things were easy for me when, in reality, they were anything but.

The Fine Line Between Complaining and Explaining

We often talk about the importance of maintaining a positive mindset and not giving energy to negative thoughts. This mentality served me well in some ways; it helped me stay focused and resilient in the face of adversity. I believed that if I spoke too much about my struggles, I would be complaining, and that wasn’t the energy I wanted to carry. But somewhere along the line, my attempts to avoid negativity turned into a refusal to acknowledge my own humanity.

There’s a crucial difference between complaining and explaining. Complaining is a cycle of dwelling on the negative without seeking a solution, while explaining is an honest acknowledgment of the difficulties we face. When we explain, we don’t just share our struggles; we also share our strategies for overcoming them. We allow others to see our full journey, not just the polished destination.

By not explaining what I was going through, I was inadvertently hiding the work I was doing to overcome my challenges. I wasn’t complaining, but I wasn’t explaining either. I was quietly enduring, and as a result, people didn’t know the mountains I was climbing. They saw the summit, but they missed the sweat, tears, and perseverance it took to get there.

When Strength Becomes Isolation

The realization hit me: people always thought things were easy for me because I had conditioned them to. I had trained myself to swallow the struggle and focus on the end goal, but in doing so, I also swallowed my own need for empathy and understanding. It wasn’t that I wanted sympathy; it was that I wanted people to know that my journey was real, filled with ups and downs, and that my achievements weren’t effortless.

My silence created a misconception, both for others and for myself. I had begun to believe that if I showed vulnerability, I would be showing weakness, and in doing so, I would betray the notion of Black excellence. But that’s not the truth. The truth is, I was minimizing my own experience. I was shrinking the magnitude of my growth because I wasn’t sharing the trials that fueled it. It took time to realize that true strength doesn’t lie in silence. It lies in the ability to say, “This is hard, and I’m still showing up.”

The Problem with a Perfect Image

As Black people, we often feel the pressure to work twice as hard for half as much. We’re told that we must constantly prove our worth, and as a result, we don’t allow ourselves to be vulnerable. We’re conditioned to believe that admitting difficulty is akin to defeat. But in striving to be strong and resilient at all times, we risk perpetuating the myth that Black excellence means being unaffected by struggle.

This misconception is dangerous because it denies us the opportunity to be human. It sets unrealistic expectations for ourselves and others. It makes it seem like overcoming obstacles is the exception, rather than the rule, when in reality, everyone goes through trials and tribulations. Excellence isn’t the absence of struggle; it’s the triumph over it. By not speaking about the hard parts, I was unintentionally erasing the work that went into my success. I wasn’t giving the full picture, and in doing so, I wasn’t truly embodying excellence.

Choosing to Collapse into Vulnerability

Author Alex Elle once said, “Collapse into vulnerability so you can find resilience.” I’m learning to embrace this idea. Vulnerability doesn’t diminish strength; it deepens it. By allowing myself to be open about my experiences, I’m not complaining—I’m explaining. I’m giving a voice to the challenges that have shaped me and sharing the lessons that came from the struggle. I’m letting people know that behind every success is a story of perseverance.

Collapsing into vulnerability means letting go of the fear that showing our struggles will somehow diminish our worth. It’s about embracing the fact that we’re all works in progress, and that’s okay. When we show up authentically, with our scars and our victories, we give others permission to do the same. We build deeper connections, rooted in understanding, compassion, and shared humanity.

Redefining Black Excellence

Redefining Black excellence means letting go of the idea that we must always be strong and never struggle. It’s about shifting the narrative from constant productivity and perfection to resilience, growth, and authenticity. True excellence isn’t about being unaffected by adversity; it’s about being transformed by it. It’s about admitting when things are hard and sharing how we navigate those hardships.

When I choose to speak about the things that challenge me, I’m not abandoning Black excellence. I’m expanding it. I’m allowing it to encompass the full range of human experiences, the highs and the lows, the triumphs and the setbacks. In doing so, I’m not just creating a space for my own growth—I’m also making room for others to see that they, too, can be excellent even when life is hard.

Finding Strength in Sharing

Moving forward, I’m choosing to collapse into vulnerability, not as an act of weakness, but as an act of courage. I’m sharing my struggles so that others know they are not alone in theirs. I’m explaining, not complaining, so that I can show the full picture of my journey and the resilience it takes to keep going. By being open about my challenges, I’m redefining what it means to be excellent. I’m finding strength in sharing my truth and showing that Black excellence is not just about the destination but also about the road we take to get there.

And as I share, I’m allowing myself to be more than just a symbol of strength. I’m allowing myself to be human. In that humanity, I’m finding a deeper, more profound resilience—one that doesn’t just endure but also inspires. So, here’s to collapsing into vulnerability, to explaining the hard parts, and to redefining excellence not as the absence of struggle, but as the presence of growth.