Last summer, a friend told me, “Black girls are magic, but we also bleed.” I immediately started snapping and interrupted the thought with “yassss” and “girl, make it plain!” It’s not like I didn’t know this already, I just hadn’t heard another person say so eloquently what I feel like many of us are feeling.

It’s not that we aren’t magical, aren’t strong, aren’t resilient, or lifesavers. These sentiments are true, but not the full truth. Because many of us are tired and don’t want to save you. We bleed. We hurt. We cry.

I know, you knew this, but do you really know this? Like, beyond a statement? Beyond the fact? Do you lament our pain or just consume our trauma?

Black women are full human beings who mess up, cuss, don’t always keep our edges laid, experience heartbreak, struggle with doubt, and sometimes feel anything but magical—and that’s okay. You don’t have to deify us to dignify us. We don’t have to be mystical to matter.

So when my friend said that, I wondered what quirks or flaws can I embrace? Beyond the magic, beyond the stereotypes: what’s true about my Black womanhood?

What’s true for me is that I’m an introvert. And for a Black woman at work, that’s not always a good thing. We’re taught to be the best, be bosses, but I just want to collect my check, relax, and watch reruns of Living Single while I admire and nurture my plant babies. I don’t want to be the very best. I want the privilege of being regular and alive.

What’s true for me is I wear a mouthguard at night because while keeping my composure in public is praised, life can be stressful and my dentist can tell how stressed I am by the grinding of my teeth. And as much as I love having a Black dentist, sis can’t have all my little coins.

What’s true for me is I don’t know how to use a toothbrush. I mean, when Beyonce said, “F them laid edges, I’ma let it shrivel up,” I felt that deep in my soul and solidly through my curly, frizzy edges.

And I wonder—when we pass each other at the grocery store or on the train or in a meeting—what is true for other Black girls who want to put down their wands. Who are we beyond our magical selves?

Many of us know the buzz phrases: “Support Black women,” “Listen to Black women,” “Learn from Black women,” and “Believe Black women.” Every time something goes right (like how we show up as voters) or when something goes wrong (ehem, “Black women tried to tell y’all!”), I see these phrases plastered all over social media. And while it should probably make me feel good to be a Black woman, frankly, I’m tired.

I’m tired of trying to save these heauxs.

You read that correctly. I’m tired of our culture and creativity being celebrated, while we receive little to no justice for crimes committed against us. I’m tired of society having the audacity to expect us to suck it up and put on the superwoman cape. Nah. I’s be tired. TIR-ED.

Beyond the Magic is where Black women can simply be and wholly exist. This is a space for us to rest. Follow the journey @amlivingwell.