Less Gratitude, More Self-Compassion: A Letter to Black Women

by Nwanne Onwuzu

The holiday season brings with it an avalanche of reminders to be grateful. Social media fills with gratitude challenges, and our inboxes overflow with prompts to count our blessings. But as I look around at the powerful Black women in my life—my friends, colleagues, mentors, and sisters—I see something that needs to be said: We don't need another lesson in gratitude.

Gratitude runs deep in our bones. When you've had to fight for every inch of ground you stand on, when you've had to prove yourself twice over just to get half as far, when you've had to transform obstacles into stepping stones—gratitude isn't just a practice, it's survival. We know intimately the value of every opportunity, every open door, every helping hand that got us where we are.

We're grateful for the grandmother who watched our children while we worked double shifts or finished graduate school. For the teacher who saw our potential when others didn't. For the mentor who showed us how to navigate spaces not built with us in mind. For the sister-friends who held us up when we couldn't stand alone.

But here's what I want to talk about instead: self-compassion.

Because while we excel at recognizing the contributions of others, we often struggle to acknowledge our own worth. We're quick to celebrate others' victories but dismiss our own as "just doing what needed to be done." We pour endlessly from our cups without permitting ourselves to rest and refill.

This year, I'm asking you to revolutionize your gratitude practice. When you say your "thank yous," include yourself in that circle of appreciation. Your strength deserves recognition too.

Try these on for size:

"Thank you to myself for setting boundaries at work when I needed to, even when it felt uncomfortable."

"Thank you to myself for making time for joy, even when my to-do list wasn't done and guilt knocked at my door."

"Thank you to myself for choosing rest instead of pushing through exhaustion, recognizing that my worth isn't tied to my productivity."

"Thank you to myself for asking for help when I needed it, knowing that strength lies in community, not isolation."

"Thank you to myself for continuing to dream big, even in a world that sometimes tries to shrink my aspirations."

This isn't self-indulgence—it's self-preservation. It's acknowledging that the same grace we extend to others should flow back to ourselves. It's understanding that our accomplishments aren't just about luck or blessing but about our own resilience, determination, and wisdom.

As Black women, we're often taught that humility means minimizing our contributions, that strength means endless endurance, that success means never acknowledging our struggles. But true humility includes honest self-recognition. Real strength includes knowing when to be gentle with ourselves. Genuine success includes celebrating our journey, not just our destination.

So this season, as you reflect on all you're grateful for, don't forget to thank the person who's been there through it all—you. Thank yourself for persisting, for growing, for showing up day after day. Thank yourself for being both the warrior and the nurturer, the dreamer and the doer, the leader and the learner.

You've earned that recognition. You deserve that grace. Your gratitude list isn't complete without yourself on it.

Because the truth is, in a world that often demands everything from Black women while offering little in return, choosing self-compassion isn't just personal—it's revolutionary. It's saying that our well-being matters, that our peace matters, that we matter.

So yes, be grateful for all you have. But be grateful for who you are too. You've come so far.