Nobody told me it was going to be like this.
Not like this.
And I don’t mean the “hard parts” everybody warns you about — the uncontrollable emotions, the sleep deprivation, the overwhelm or the way your body becomes someone else’s home before it gets to be yours again.
I mean the specific, particular, unnamed experience of being a Black Mother in a world that expects you to do all of it without flinching.
Without asking for help, falling apart or admitting that some days you’re not sure you’re doing anything right.
That experience that nobody talks about…Until now.
Welcome to The Big Mama Confessional. 💋
This is a space I created because I needed it to exist and it didn’t.
A safe space where Black Mothers a.k.a Big Mamas.💋 —
first time mamas, seasoned mamas, unconventional mamas, solo mamas, healing mamas, figuring-it-out-as-we-go mamas
— get to tell the truth.
Not the highlight reel. Not gratitude posts.
Not the performative softness that makes everyone around us comfortable with our struggle.
That Real, Raw Truth.
The truths we say at night after we’ve held it together all day.
The ones we write in our notes app at 2am, when the baby is finally asleep but we’re too wired to rest.
The ones we’ve been keeping tucked because nobody made it safe to say them out loud.
This is THAT safe place…we’ll begin here and dive even deeper in The Booth.🎙🌹
I’ll go first because that’s what I do here.
I go first, so you know it’s safe to join me.
I am a first time mother; who’s unconventional in almost every way.
A Stay at Home Mom, who is also building something — for us, for our future, for the version of my son who looks back one day and sees his mother chose herself and him at the same damn time.
I am a Creative Mompreneur, who some days can’t tell where the brand ends and the survival begins.
I am a Black Woman, who became a mother and had to figure out, almost all of it alone.
And I have stories.
Real ones. Heavy ones. Funny ones.
The kind that makes you say, “Oh thank God, it’s not just me.” 🙌🏽
This series is going to go places that Black Motherhood content doesn’t usually go.
We’re going to talk about Postpartum Depression and Rage — because THEY ARE BOTH REAL ASF and nobody warned us. Instead, they ignored their experiences and expected us to do the same…but what’s new there. 😒
We’re going to talk about me going no contact as a first time mom — because protecting your child sometimes means protecting them from the exact people who hurt you.
We’re going to talk about building something from nothing while raising someone who is watching everything.
We’re going to talk about the village that showed up and “the village” that didn’t.
We’re going to tell the truth about what it actually costs to be a Black Mother in the world — and what it gives back when you stop performing it and start living it.
This is not a parenting blog.
This is not an advice column.
This is not “here’s how I healed my motherhood journey in five steps.”
This is a confessional.
A Living Diary.
A Stussette where Black Mothers get to be human first, and everything else second.
If you’re a Big Mama.💋 — however that looks for you — this one is yours.
Pull up a chair.
Put the baby down for a second.
Roll or pour whatever you desire to.
Imma pack my bong, pour me some Stella Rosa and let’s tell the truth together.
The Stu door is open. All Big Mamas are welcome. 💋
🎧 Her Channelled Frequency: Big Momma Thang by Lil Kim
Reminders from The Stu. 🎵🌹:
A channelled frequency is just that. So when listening think more experience, moods and senses than the artist, their dealings and backgrounds. For example, how old were you or where were when you first heard the song?
I created a Big Mama Stater Chat here in The Stu but we’ll dive even deeper in The Booth.🎙🌹 Either way, I am here to read and respond. Just be sure to share with yourself in mind, especially in the Subscriber Chat please. It’s not as protected as The Booth.🎙🌹
Please only take what resonates, leave what doesn’t.
Eye Love You Always, Big Mama.🌹