Imagine waking up…
To another day of responsibilities.
To the sound of your baby crying before your feet even touch the floor.
To texts, bills, demands, and expectations — and you haven’t even had your tea yet.
Now imagine that same morning spiraling into one of the worst days of your life.
Not because something massive or dramatic happened. But because of the last straw. That quiet, invisible moment when your body says, “I can’t take one more thing.”
All you wanted was to make it to payday.
All you wanted was some grace.
Not even a miracle. Just… a break.
That’s the place Straw took me to.
And honestly? I almost didn’t watch it. I didn’t know what to expect — especially with all the think pieces floating around the internet. As a new mother, I’ve become very intentional about protecting my peace. I avoid triggers. I fast from certain types of content. I choose quiet over chaos every chance I get.
But something about Straw kept calling me. And I’m glad I answered.
It’s Easy to Judge a Mother — Especially a Single One

Taraji P. Henson in ‘Straw.’ CHIP BERGMANN/PERRY WELL FILMS 2/NETFLIX
Let’s talk about it.
Our society doesn’t extend grace to mothers — especially not to Black single mothers.
We’re expected to own up to our “choices.”
If the father disappears, we’re told you should’ve picked better.
If we’re exhausted, we’re told well, this is what you signed up for.
If we struggle, we’re told to suck it up. Be strong. Woman up.
And that’s what we do.
Even when we’re barely holding on.
Even when we have no idea what we’re doing.
Even when we’re drowning silently behind a brave face.
Some of us learned motherhood by instinct — going back to our baby doll days, dressing our toddlers like our childhood toys, pretending until it started to feel real. We learned how to survive and nurture, often with no map, no model, and no margin for error.
So when I watched the mother in Straw — this hardworking woman just trying to get through the day — I didn’t see fiction.
I saw myself.
I saw my sisters.
I saw every woman who’s ever stood in her kitchen trying not to fall apart.
The Breaking Point

There’s a scene in the film where she finally reaches her breaking point — not in front of anyone, but alone. Quietly. Undone by one too many expectations and one too few lifelines.
She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t hysterical. She was done.
And that, right there, is what most people don’t understand about burnout and breakdowns. They don’t always look dramatic. They can look like washing dishes. Like missing a shift. Like staring at your reflection and not recognizing the woman looking back.
Straw doesn’t just tell a story — it holds up a mirror. It makes you ask:
How many Black mothers are quietly unraveling and nobody sees it?
How many are told to be strong while they’re screaming for help in silence?
This movie isn’t trauma porn. It’s awareness. And it’s needed.
A Different Kind of Grace

What if instead of judging mothers, we started showing up for them?
What if instead of telling her she should’ve “chosen better,” we asked, “How can I support you?”
What if we extended grace — not because she’s perfect, but because she’s human?
That’s what The Circle of Becoming was created to offer.
This space is for the women who are in the middle of figuring it out.
For the ones who feel broken but still show up.
For the ones navigating healing, motherhood, and their own becoming — all at once.
Because let’s be clear: you are not alone.
Motherhood doesn’t come with a manual, but it can come with a village.
Not the kind that watches you drown, but the kind that jumps in and swims beside you.
Final Thoughts

If you’re a mother — especially a single mother — and you’ve had a “last straw” day, know this:
Your exhaustion is valid.
Your emotions are sacred.
And your story is not over.
Straw reminded me of the importance of grace.
Not just from others, but toward ourselves.
You are not here to be everyone’s everything.
You are here to be whole.
And you don’t have to wait until you break to ask for help.
Let’s stop measuring strength by how much we can endure.
Let’s start measuring it by how tenderly we care for our own hearts.
You deserve that.
We all do.
Come sit with us at The Circle of Becoming. Because your becoming is not meant to be survived alone.
Want to share your “last straw” moment? Drop it in the comments or DM me. This is a safe space. No judgment — just grace.











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