The Circle of Becoming: Self-Discovery •Becoming • Purpose

While scrolling through endless posts on Facebook, I came across a line that stopped me in my tracks:

“Black women are the only flowers expected to bloom while not being watered.”

That hit me hard because it spoke to a truth I know too well. For generations, we’ve been conditioned to show up strong, put together, and unbreakable—even when life gives us nothing but cracks and cold cement. And somehow, we still bloom.

That post pulled me into a deeper thought—the image Tupac Shakur gave us in The Rose That Grew from Concrete. In his poem, the rose wasn’t just a flower; it was a symbol of resilience, a reminder of what it means to push through impossible odds. Nikki Giovanni even wrote the foreword to his poetry collection, honoring that message and the power behind it.

Because this isn’t about flowers. It’s about life. About those of us who learn to reach for light when there’s barely any sun, who find a way to breathe even when the air feels heavy.

Why the Metaphor Still Matters

Tupac’s words weren’t romanticizing the struggle; they were honoring the triumph. A rose pushing through concrete shouldn’t have to happen—but when it does, it shows an undeniable will to live, to create beauty where there should have been nothing.

For Black women, this image is painfully familiar. We know what it feels like to fight for growth in spaces never designed for us to thrive. We know what it feels like to rise without support, to build without resources, and to be strong even when it costs us softness.

And while the rose stands as a symbol of resilience, there’s a hard truth in that picture: no one should have to fight that hard just to bloom. Our survival is inspiring, yes—but the cracks don’t feel any less jagged just because we managed to push through them.

My Journey: Choosing Growth Over Survival

When people hear that I became a mother later in life, some label it as a negative. And yes, it has its challenges. But I choose to give myself grace because I walked into this season with something younger me didn’t have—wisdom. Along with that wisdom came survival skills sharpened through life’s hardest lessons, but more importantly, a deep appreciation for mental wellness.

From the start, I knew I couldn’t raise my son from a place of pure survival. That would’ve been a disservice to both of us. So I made a conscious decision: to grow through what I’m going through. That meant breaking generational cycles, building emotional awareness, and creating space for softness in my life—even when the world told me to stay hard.

When I think about my path, I see Tupac’s metaphor come alive. My foundation wasn’t soft soil. It was cracked concrete, cold and unyielding at times. Yet here I am, blooming—not because the conditions were perfect, but because my roots refused to quit.

The Weight of Expectation

Society expects us to:

• Show up for everyone while neglecting ourselves.
• Lead households and careers with grace, even when resources are scarce.
• Endure discrimination and microaggressions, then smile through it all.

The reality? This constant pressure to perform without support leaves many of us emotionally and physically drained. Which is why emotional rest and mental health aren’t luxuries for us—they’re essential for survival.

Redefining What It Means to Bloom

Blooming through concrete doesn’t mean glorifying the struggle or romanticizing hardship. It means:

• Healing from the root up: Prioritizing therapy, faith, and self-reflection.
• Creating safe spaces: Building communities where vulnerability is honored, not shamed.
• Watering yourself: Practicing guilt-free self-care and allowing softness into your life.

The real victory isn’t just thriving despite the odds—it’s breaking free from the belief that struggle is our only story.

Why This Conversation Matters

When we only celebrate resilience, we ignore that Black women deserve more than survival. We deserve abundance, joy, and spaces that nurture us. Our daughters—and our sons—deserve to see us thriving, not merely enduring.

The Concrete Rose Effect is proof of our power, but let’s not stop at blooming through cracks. Let’s create gardens, fertile spaces where the next generation of Black women won’t have to fight the same battles.

Your Turn to Reflect

Resilience is powerful, but so is intentional growth. Take a moment to turn inward:

Journal Prompt:

“Where in my life have I been surviving instead of thriving? What can I do to create space for softness, joy, and peace in that area?”

Affirmations for Today

I am worthy of light, care, and ease—even if I had to bloom through concrete.

My story is not defined by struggle; it’s shaped by my power to create peace.

I allow softness into my life without guilt. Breaking cycles is my act of love for myself and those who come after me.

Call to Action

Ready to keep growing? Share your reflections in the comments or start your own Concrete Rose moment by journaling today. Tag @TheCircleofBecoming.Blog and use #CircleOfBecoming to inspire other women on their journey.