Dear Black Women, Fighting Isn’t Our Identity

Growing up, many of us were told that as Black girls we needed to know how to fight. It wasn’t just about defending ourselves, it was an expectation. Somewhere along the way, the ability to throw hands became tied to honor, respect, and even survival. And while there’s truth in knowing how to protect yourself, there’s also a deeper truth: God never created us to live with our fists as our first language.

I’ve seen it and lived it myself. I grew up a fighter. For me, it wasn’t necessarily because of cultural pressure, it was simply in me. To this day, if pushed, I know I could still defend myself. But here’s the thing: maturity taught me that being a fighter doesn’t mean walking around looking for a fight. It doesn’t mean bragging about how many girls you’ve beat up or wearing masculinity like a badge of honor. That’s not strength, that’s bondage.

The world will label us: “angry Black woman,” “aggressive,” “masculine.” And yes, sometimes those stereotypes grow out of real behaviors that were praised when we were little girls. But as women, we don’t have to live up to false expectations. True strength isn’t about swinging first, it’s about knowing when to stand still. Proverbs 31:25 says, “Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.” Notice it doesn’t say her strength is in her fists. Her strength is in her character.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I believe every woman should know how to defend herself if necessary. But defense is not the same as dysfunction. Fighting because you can’t articulate your feelings or because culture tells you it’s cute? That’s not protection, that’s destruction.

Instead of pushing our daughters and little sisters to toughen up with fists, what if we taught them to toughen up with faith? To be unshakable in their identity, their femininity, and their dignity? What if we pushed them to soften, not in weakness, but in wisdom? That softness is where love, partnership, and peace can live.

And brothers, this is where you step in. You can’t want a woman to be gentle and feminine while you place the weight of masculine burdens on her shoulders. Step into your role; lead with honor, kindness, and provision. When you create a safe space, women don’t have to armor up.

Sisters, being a fighter at heart isn’t wrong but let’s not confuse survival with identity. Your worth is not in your ability to brawl. Your worth is in Christ, who calls you His beloved daughter. And as daughters of the King, we are clothed in strength, but also in softness, grace, and dignity.

Ecclesiastes 3:8 reminds us there is “a time for war, and a time for peace.” May we learn the difference, and may we raise up a generation of women who know their fight is spiritual, not just physical.