i'm not your little friend...and you're not a safe space

the complicated relationship of the black mother and daughter

Romance isn’t my first choice when it comes to picking a TV show or picking up a book. I’m more of a drive-by shooter or murder thriller type of girl, but I was blown away by Forever on Netflix.

Like every other black person, I am obsessed with Mara Brock Akil’s other work, so I couldn’t wait to snuggle up on my couch and press play.

Forever is beautiful…point blank period. I was amazed at how beautifully Akil captured young love during that era. From 2017 to 2019, it felt like the last time the world felt like a real place. The music still felt fun, with some variety, and men were still buying drinks in the club because they liked women. It was truly the last time we experienced life as we knew it. The series for me felt very nostalgic because I was also in a deeply passionate relationship that I thought would last forever during those same years.

Even though love was at the forefront, I couldn’t help but question why black mothers are not a safe place? Before I go further, I want to clarify that it’s not all mamas, but Keisha’s situation made me think, have we all been in this situation, and why?

Without giving too much of the show, Keisha is a high schooler who was a victim of revenge porn and told nobody. She dealt with it on her own without telling her mama, her older girl cousins, or anyone else who could help her. I admired her strength even though she shouldn’t have dealt with it alone. I know what it’s like to hold in something you’re scared to share or embarrassed about with your mama.

We’ve seen plenty of complicated black mother-daughter relationships on camera and in real life. It all boils down to them being more of a provider and protector versus being that soft, vulnerable, safe space. But why can’t we have both?

I’m not a parent, but I understand that mothers hold a lot of weight and responsibility on their shoulders. Having to be an adult in my life right now, I couldn’t even imagine trying to balance motherhood, and as I get older, I see how hard it is. But I don’t understand why it seems like being a soft place for daughters is so hard.

Growing up, especially as teenagers and in our 20s, we go through so many situations that cause so much uncertainty and confusion. And I can bet my bottom dollar that many of us chose or currently do not choose to not go to our mothers because of the fear of judgement. We know the saying “mothers love their sons and raise their daughters,” and “my first bully was my mother.” I’m constantly wondering if there is a way to create an open environment while preparing the girls for life lessons. Why do we, black women, always have to it get hard way and get taught that life isn’t built soft for us? Shouldn’t at home be the soft place?

The best example I can think of is Monica on Love and Basketball. Instead of Monica’s mother trying to understand her and accept her, she constantly made smart remarks on how she should do her hair more, look girly, and “stop walking around looking like a little boy.” Everything is followed with criticism, and the moment you open up, instantly the finger is pointed at you, and you could’ve done better. The standard is just so much higher, no matter the situation.

This is also why so many black girls have a problem with dating. Some of us lack a safe space to explore with the support of our mamas (and daddies) because they project fears. This wasn’t Keisha’s case in Forever, but she felt the pressure of perfection.

Once Keisha finally opened up to her mom, she cared and wanted to protect her by any means, but before that, her reaction negatively affected Keisha. She gave her the silent treatment, blamed her for having to work more, and even wanted to handle the situation in her favor, not Keisha’s. I feel like if more black mothers took the time to listen to understand instead of to reply or react, it could heal relationships and prevent a lot of traumatic circumstances, especially at a young age. Opening up and sharing insights, stories, and advice with patience and a non-judgmental attitude is the goal, but it’s almost like a foreign language. Even if the previous generation didn’t open up that space, it has to start somewhere.

If mothers loved their daughters like their sons, combined with the protection, it could make for better communication. That also requires accountability, understanding, and listening. Because at the end of the day, they spend at least 18+ years screaming, “I’m not one of your little friends,” and then wanting to be that same friend 25 years later. But if there was never a safe from childhood, how can that bond blossom as an adult?

But what do I know? I don’t got no kids…