Redefining Strength: A Black Woman’s Journey to Healing

• Redefining Strength: A Black Woman’s Journey to Healing
• A Childhood Built on Survival
• The “Strong Black Woman”
• Naming the Wounds and Breaking the Cycle
• The Work: Using DBT to Rebuild Control
• DBT Treatment Sessions: A Step-by-Step Process
• Reflections from the Therapist's Perspective

Redefining Strength: A Black Woman’s Journey to Healing

Kayla sat in my office with her arms crossed against her chest—a familiar shield against the world. At 23, she had grown accustomed to protecting herself, whether necessary or not. She avoided eye contact with me like the plague, guarding herself as hard as possible. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” she said, her eyes fixed on the floor. “This is so awkward.”

“That’s normal,” I said.

As a therapist, I have heard many clients share that they are unsure of what has led them to therapy. What was always different for me was tonality. I have heard people voice uncertainty about therapy with anger and even sadness. Kayla’s voice was filled with exhaustion.

“I feel so out of control as of late. I feel like I’m in a loop of the worst days of my life. I go to sleep thinking about my mistakes. I always wake up feeling worse than I did the day before. I’m eating and spending like crazy. I’m so tired.”

Kayla’s specific wording and my clinical judgment led me to believe there was more behind what she shared. So, I asked her, “What is weighing on you?”   

Kayla burst into tears, and for the first time, she looked into my eyes, hers filled with anger and sorrow. “My mom died! I finally tell her how much I hate her, and she dies!” Kayla sobbed as her words lingered in the air. It had been a year since her mother passed, but as we know, there is no time limit on grief. Grief moves at its own pace and intensity. For Kayla, grief was feeding off her deep-rooted trauma.

“I keep replaying that argument with her over and over. Maybe what I said caused her too much heartbreak. Maybe she’d still be here if I had kept things unspoken.”

I leaned forward slightly.   

“Kayla, your mother's passing is not your fault.”

Kayla shook her head as tears continued to roll.

“Then why does it feel like it is?”

A Childhood Built on Survival

Kayla’s childhood was a lesson in what love wasn’t. She realized early on that her mother was not like the mothers she saw on television who supported their children and told them they loved them at the very least.

“My mom wasn’t like Clair Huxtable or anything. I didn’t get hugs or life lessons. She just wasn’t that kind of woman,” Kayla said. “I can't recall her ever saying she was proud of me. When I would make good grades or clean my room, she would say,‘That’s what you supposed to do.’”

For Kayla, affection was nonexistent, validation was rare, and she never felt safe displaying anything other than strength. Kayla felt sympathy for her mother as she knew her mother faced hardships as a child herself. Kayla’s grandmother shaped her mother into the woman who raised her—distant and emotionally unavailable.

Over time, Kayla began to convince herself that she was the one who needed to change.

“I just stopped asking for things that she couldn’t give me. I consoled myself. I taught myself. I protected myself. I didn’t want to rock the boat with her because she was always extremely irritable. It annoyed her whenever I was in need, so I stopped needing her.”

By age ten, Kayla had perfected the art of being invisible. She didn’t ask her mom for love. She didn’t ask for affection. She didn’t ask for help. In turn, she saved herself from disappointment.

The “Strong Black Woman”

Kayla’s experience growing up was a complex one due to the emotional neglect and also the unwritten rules of what it takes to be a Black woman (1). She grew up being told to be strong and keep going no matter what. There was not enough room for anything else. Kayla comes from a family of Black women who embodied these qualities as armor against the world. Growing up in a space that offered little empathy to Black women, Kayla’s mother taught her how to survive, and that was her act of love.

“She used to tell me that if I think anyone cares about me crying, then I have a lot to learn,” Kayla stated angrily. “Like crying made you weak or something. In a way, she was right. I had to make sure people knew I was nothing to mess with!”Even after Kayla’s mother died, she felt like she had no space to grieve. “My aunt told me everything happens for a reason, and we can’t spend time crying. So, you mean to tell me I can’t have time to be sad about my mom’s passing? Even in death, do I have to push on? That’s a lot for anyone. If my family knew I was here, they would wonder why. After everything I have endured, they would still wonder why. Because we don’t do this.”

In addition to her trauma and grief, Kayla was struggling with knowing that she needed help but feeling uncomfortable while seeking it. There has been an undeniable stigma in the Black community when it comes to mental health. As a Black woman myself, I resonated deeply with her.

“My aunt would probably be like girl, you need to talk to God, and not no therapist! Talk to God, and you will be all right. Like I haven’t been talking to God. Talking to you is my last hope at this point.”

Kayla was plagued by wondering if she should even be here as a Black woman and also hoping that therapy would “work” for her.

“You know you can do both, right?” I asked. “You can talk to God and spend time in therapy.” Kayla arched her eyebrows as if she were in deep thought. I continued, “James 2:14 says, ‘Faith without works is dead.’ Kayla, you are doing the work right now.”

“Wow, I’ve never thought about it like that,” she smirked. “I like that!”

Naming the Wounds and Breaking the Cycle

Kayala learned to survive from an early age, and her defensive tactics served her well. Now, it was time for her to thrive. I discussed clinical diagnoses with her, and her mood instantly changed. I could tell she was not fond of labels.

“What is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder? Are you saying I’m crazy?” she asked, irritated.

“Absolutely not!” I said sternly. I swiftly disputed Kayla’s thoughts so she didn’t disengage with me. “A diagnosis is not about calling you crazy; it’s about creating a roadmap. Knowing your diagnosis helps us understand what’s wrong and how we can fix it.” I continued while I still had her attention, “Right now, your mind still seems to think that you are in danger, and it is responding accordingly. Kayla, you are safe now, but your experiences in life have wired your brain into a constant state of fear. When this happens to us, it is hard to regulate our emotions or trust new people because that is not a priority; safety is. That is why we are looking at Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. We need to look at the research for what has been proven to work with your symptoms.” (2)

Kayla’s jaw tightened, but I saw a flicker of understanding.

I continued. “Now, some traits of Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD concern me. Again, this does not mean that there is something wrong with you. It simply means that something happened to you that is causing patterns similar to BPD to arise in your personality.”

Kayla previously reported mood swings, fear of abandonment, and impulsive choices that she wished to cease. I wanted her to understand that these symptoms made sense when one has endured the trauma that she has. Giving it a name only serves as a guide to addressing her symptoms.   

“But here is the most important thing,” I said. “None of these things mean you’re crazy. They mean your brain did what it had to do to survive. And now, we’ll teach it a new way of looking at life.”

She nodded slowly. This time, she was really hearing me.   

The Work: Using DBT to Rebuild Control

Kayla discussed feeling out of control when she first sat on my couch. She said she was tired and had exhausted all options. She wanted to feel different. Therefore, we had to try something different. Kayla was stuck in a cycle of emotional dysregulation, intrusive thoughts, and impulsive behaviors—trying to numb a pain that never seemed to dull. As a result of her trauma and grief, she had become avoidant. She had cut off her family in an attempt to forget her past and her unfavorable memories of her mother. She had also distanced herself from friends, convincing herself that being alone was the safest way to be. However, the isolation only compounded her sadness.

“I like to be alone. I don’t have to worry about anything…or anyone,” she said.

It was clear that avoidance had become a comforting survival mechanism for her, blocking her pathway to healing by dismissing the very things she needed to address. That is why Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) was the chosen approach for Kayla—she didn’t just need to talk about her pain; she required structure. She was new to managing her emotions and grasping concepts of healthy communication. As someone who always “just dealt with it,” Kayla needed practical tools to help her regulate her emotions, tolerate distress, and rebuild her broken relationships with family and friends (3). DBT would allow Kayla to accept her past and present circumstances while learning tangible ways to help her approach her overwhelming emotions less detrimentally.

Kayla’s case and the use of DBT demonstrate its flexibility beyond its original purpose for borderline personality disorder for managing trauma and grief as well. Unlike traditional talk therapy, DBT provides tangible solutions to change. It was designed for people like Kayla—individuals who felt emotions so intensely that they often became destructive. With some culturally adapted tweaks, I knew DBT would be life-changing for her.

DBT Treatment Sessions: A Step-by-Step Process

Reframing Emotional Regulation Through Radical Acceptance

“So, what? I just breathe through my feelings? That’s not gonna do anything,” she snapped when I introduced emotional regulation techniques. Kayla came to therapy with the belief that any emotions outside of anger made her weak. She had been taught to be a strong Black woman. For her, that, unfortunately, meant suppressing pain and keeping her composure no matter what she faced—crying, asking for help, or expressing vulnerability felt like weakness. Regulating emotions meant giving in and giving up. We needed to reframe that thinking. I knew I had to introduce something concrete that would challenge this belief in a way that made sense to her lived experience.

That’s when I introduced Radical Acceptance.

“To radically accept something means acknowledging our reality no matter how much it hurts. It doesn’t mean you like it. It doesn’t mean it was fair. It simply means it happened and is out of our control.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“So, I just roll over and accept what happened to me? That sounds like letting people run over me.”

“It’s the opposite,” I assured her. “It means you stop wasting energy on what has happened and can’t be changed, then you can focus on healing and moving forward.”

We practiced this with a powerful exercise. I asked Kayla to create two different lists. On the first, I asked her to list everything she wished had been different. On the second, I asked her to write down the reality of what happened. Kayla hesitated, as if putting the truth into words would finally make things real for her. But eventually, she did it.

When she finished, I asked, “Which one is true?” She looked at them for a long time before responding.

“The second one.”

“And which one are you living in?”

She tearfully stated, “the first one.”

“That’s why it hurts so much.”

There was silence. I saw Kayla arch her brows again, as she always does when thinking.

“I guess I can’t change the past, huh? Being angry about it isn’t going to change it for me, either. I need to focus on what I want to be different now and make a plan to change my now.”   

Managing Impulsivity Through Distress Tolerance

In our next session. I wanted to focus on Kayla’s binge eating and spending. These weren’t random actions. They were her mind’s way of coping with her trauma and grief. These behaviors were a quick way for Kayla to feel something other than discomfort, if only for a brief time.

“I don’t think—I just do it,” she admitted when we explored her excessive spending and binge eating.

I introduced distress tolerance skills to teach Kayla to sit with her uncomfortable feelings. One of the most valuable techniques for this was the STOP Method:

• Stop – Pause before you react.
• Take a step back – Create space to think before deciding.
• Observe – Notice your emotions without judgment.
• Proceed mindfully – Act with awareness.  

At first, she was skeptical about being able to control her urges. But then, one evening, I received a text from her: “I almost spent $500 online on something silly, but I stepped away from my phone and did that STOP thing instead. So… yay, I guess.”

It was a small victory for Kayla but a critically important one. Over time, she began to master interrupting her impulsive urges. We were replacing her self-destructive behaviors with healthy coping skills.

Processing Trauma Through Mindfulness & Exposure  
Our next session was challenging as we addressed Kayla’s most potent and longest-held form of self-protection; we addressed her avoidance. I felt that Kayla had enough coping skills at this point to start to touch on some of her trauma that impacts her today. She shut down and cut off anyone who was a reminder of her trauma, further isolating herself and feeding her negative behaviors.

“I just don’t have time to think about any of that stuff. It feels bad,” she told me once.

But avoidance doesn’t erase trauma—it only buries it deeper.

I introduced mindfulness-based exposure therapy, where she slowly confronted the memories she had been running from. We spent half of one session just looking at a picture of her mother and addressing the emotions that rose from that. Eventually, we reached a point where Kayla was listening to an old voicemail her mother had left her shortly before her passing. Her mother called to check on her as she had not seen her since their argument. Kayla’s hands began to tremble; her breathing became shallow.

“This hurts me so much,” she whispered.

I nodded.

“I know. Just go with it.”

As she let the tears roll, she didn’t dissociate. She sat in how she felt. That was a breakthrough!

Breakthrough Session: Onward to Healing

Months into therapy, Kayla no longer felt like she was spinning out of control.

“I still have my bad days,” she sighed. "But I don’t feel like I can't do anything about it anymore.”

Her progress was never about curing her pain. It was about living with it more healthily. She was still grieving, still processing, only this time around, she had the tools to cope. As she stood up to leave our session today, she paused. “You know,” she said, “I think my mom would’ve liked you.”

I smiled, and said, “I think she would’ve liked you too.”

Kayla walked out of my office that day, not healed, but healing. For now, that was enough.

Reflections from the Therapist's Perspective

My experience with Kayla has grown me in ways no training or manual could. After some time sitting across from her, I realized that I was doing much more than simply applying interventions to an issue. What I was providing Kayla was a safe space. As big as the world is, many people do not have the space to be truly vulnerable and seen in their pain. In that space, it was not about how much I knew academically, but how deeply I could listen, be present, and make it safe for her to unravel.

Therapy is often misunderstood as something people do to “fix” an issue. However, healing does not come from quick fixes. Healing comes from connection when I can help carry the weight someone shouldered alone for far too long. Kayla reminded me that everything I do matters. My patience, validation, and commitment to her healing mattered so much. These small and consistent actions are the most powerful tools a therapist can implement during therapy. Most importantly, I learned I cannot validate what I do not acknowledge.

Kayla’s life experiences, beliefs, and values all stemmed from her upbringing. They stemmed from her identity as a Black woman in her home and the world. As a Black woman myself, I resonated deeply with the themes around mental health that Kayla had come to know as truth. As a Black therapist, I am even more grounded in my belief that therapy must make space for cultural humility and the intersectionality of the people we sit across from. Their identity, history, and experiences make them unique. That said, we must see our clients for all that they are.   

References

(1) Carter, L., & Rossi, A. (2021). Embodying strength: The origin, representations, and socialization of the strong Black woman ideal and its effect on Black women's mental health. In WE matter! (pp. 43–54). Routledge.

(2) Bremner, J. D., & Wittbrodt, M. T. (2020). Stress, the brain, and trauma spectrum disorders. International review of neurobiology, 152, 1-22.

(3) Prillinger, K., Goreis, A., Macura, S., Hajek Gross, C., Lozar, A., Fanninger, S., ... Kothgassner, O. D. (2024). A systematic review and meta-analysis on the efficacy of dialectical behavior therapy variants for the treatment of post-traumatic stress disorder. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 15(1), 2406662.  

©2025, Psychotherapy.net