Image source: https://src.nappy.co/photo/gvOgVunKZ_AZe7yAFuodB
There was a time when I gave freely. Ideas, insights, visions—I shared them all without hesitation. Whether it was on social media, in casual conversations, or at work, I poured out my energy because I believed in the power of contribution. I thought the more I gave, the more valuable I’d be seen.
But over time, I noticed a painful and familiar pattern.
At my previous job, I constantly generated ideas that were ahead of their time. I could see solutions, connect dots, and envision what others couldn’t. But rather than being supported or recognized for these contributions, I was often dismissed—or worse, my ideas were taken, repackaged, and celebrated as someone else’s "breakthrough."
The most glaring example? Others, usually white men who offered similar ideas were met with applause, funding, and opportunities. Meanwhile, my contributions were erased or ignored, even though they were the original foundation.
The Pattern of Misogynoir
What happened at my previous employer wasn’t an isolated incident. It’s a trend I’ve experienced throughout my life as a Black woman. Misogynoir—the toxic intersection of racism and sexism—has a way of devaluing and erasing the work of Black women, even as it relies on our brilliance to thrive.
Historically, Black women’s bodies, labor, and creations have been treated as public property. From enslavement to the present day, there’s a legacy of theft—of ideas, culture, and physical autonomy—that says what we create doesn’t belong to us.
I grew up internalizing this. When my ideas were stolen or dismissed, I knew something was wrong but I also thought, This must not be special. Because my insights came so naturally, I assumed they were obvious to everyone. But they weren’t. And without affirmation of my thinking being insight, valuable and incredibly forward leaning I gave my power away. I didn't know then what I know now.
What I thought was common sense was actually my gift—a unique ability to see possibilities and connect threads that others couldn’t.
Recognizing the Trend
Over time, I started to see the trend clearly:
At work, my ideas were co-opted by people who had access to power and privilege.
On social media, my insights would inspire others who rarely acknowledged where they came from.
In life, I was often expected to pour into others while receiving little in return.
This wasn’t coincidence—it was systemic. A white man with the same knowledge or vision would be championed as a thought leader, while I was treated as an afterthought. Or even a white woman or even other Black women if the power dynamics and politics played in their favor and not mine.
Understanding this didn’t just make me angry (though it did that too). It also opened my eyes to the ways I was complicit in my own undervaluation. I wasn’t valuing my ideas not only because I didn’t know their worth, I expected other people to have the some heart and integrity as I did - they did not.
Learning My Worth
The experience at my previous job was a catalyst, but it wasn’t the first or last time my work was stolen. It forced me to confront the uncomfortable truth that I was giving my brilliance away to people and spaces that didn’t deserve it.
My Human Design helped me see this in a new light. As a Projector, I have the gift of insight. I am here to guide, to offer wisdom, and to illuminate pathways others can’t see. But that gift is not meant to be scattered everywhere—it’s meant to land in spaces where it’s invited and honored.
This realization has reshaped everything for me:
Social Media: I no longer feel the need to give everything away for free. I share intentionally, and often through spaces like my blog or Buy Me a Coffee page, where people have to take deliberate action to engage with my work.
Creative Work: I’ve learned to recognize my creations as valuable, not just "thoughts to share."
Boundaries: I now protect my energy. I invest in spaces and people who see and respect me, not those who take me for granted.
Honoring Black Women’s Brilliance
Moving away from oversharing isn’t just about protecting myself—it’s about reclaiming something much bigger. When I choose to value my work, I’m standing against a legacy of devaluation and erasure that Black women have endured for centuries.
I’m saying: My work matters. My voice matters. My ideas matter.
And if you’ve ever felt unseen, undervalued, or dismissed as a Black woman, know this: You are not alone. Our brilliance has always moved the world. It’s time we stop giving it away to systems and people who fail to honor it.
An Invitation for You
If you’ve ever felt drained or diminished by spaces that didn’t value you, consider this your reminder: You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to set boundaries. Your gifts are not for everyone—and that’s okay.
Share where you are celebrated. Plant your seeds in fertile ground. And remember: When you value yourself, you challenge the world to do the same.