Submitted to: Contest #292

The Strong, Black, Independent Woman

Written in response to: "Write a story that has a colour in the title."

African American People of Color Sad

This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.

“Mama, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admitted over the phone, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Simone Cadwell had always been the strong one. The one people relied on. The one who had answers, who carried herself with confidence, who never showed weakness. But ever since that day in the boardroom, where she lost a part of her identity, she had felt herself unravelling.

At first, she told herself it was just stress. She just needed time to bounce back. But as the days stretched into weeks, something felt different. The exhaustion wasn’t just physical—it sat deep in her bones, making even the simplest tasks feel impossible. The apartment that she had once kept immaculate was slowly deteriorating. She slept too much yet never felt rested. Some mornings, just getting out of bed felt like a battle she wasn’t sure she wanted to win.

“I feel... empty. I’m always tired but sleep 12 hours a day, I can’t eat very well. My chest hurts sometimes, like something is pressing down on me. I think I might be depressed”

Her mother sighed heavily. “Simone, you are a strong Black woman. You’ve been through worse. You’ll pick yourself up and be fine.”

Simone hesitated, gripping the phone tighter. “I don’t think I will, Mama. I was thinking... maybe I should talk to someone, a therapist.”

Her mother scoffed. “A therapist? We don’t air our business out to strangers. What’s some outsider going to do? Tell you things you already know? You don’t need that. You just need to pray; pray and  pick yourself back up; start looking for work again or a nice man and stop dwelling on this.”

‘ But I really feel like –‘

 “Simone, now you listen to your mother’ there was not an ounce of sympathy in her voice ‘you are a strong Black woman. This is just another hurdle of life. You’re going to be fine, the good lord will get you through this.”

Simone pressed her fingers to her temples. “But what if I’m not fine?”

“Of course, you are,” her mother replies. “You’re just feeling sorry for yourself. Now, get up, go find a job, a man, and stop this pity party. And I don’t want to hear one more word of this depressed nonsense. ”

Simone nodded silently, even though her mother couldn’t see her. There was no point in arguing. She should have expected this. Be strong. Keep pushing. Don’t complain. It had been drilled into her head since childhood.

A few days had passed, and Simone had barely moved from her couch. The curtains remained drawn, shutting out any trace of sunlight. Dishes were pilling up, attracting flies and small roaches. The once bright coffee table was now covered in old take-away containers and Mold. She was starting to smell herself which wasn’t surprising considering she hadn’t showered in days nor eaten anything substantial. The weight pressing on her chest made everything feel pointless.

In an act of desperation, she reached out to Nadia, one of her closest friends, hoping for a different response. Hoping for someone to listen, to tell her it was okay not to be okay.

But the moment Nadia picked up the phone, any shred of hope quickly vanished.

“Girl, I don’t know what to do with Marcus. The other day I found some texts between him and some girl at the church. Nothing outright, but you know when something just feels off?’  Simone swallowed back the lump in her throat and listened.

‘This fool thinks I don’t have his password’ Nadia continues. ‘I don’t know if I should confront him or wait and see if he slips up by himself.”

‘Well do what you think is right.’ Simone replied whilst holding in her own tears. ‘Remember you should be able to talk to your husband about anything and if you feel uncomfortable with this then you guys can deal with it together.’ She wanted to say more but was trying her best to control her shaking voice.

For a brief moment, there was silence on the line before Nadia sighed. “yeah, you’re right. Whew. Girl, you don’t know how lucky you are to be single. No kids, no husband, no stress. You have it so easy, just you and your career.”

Simone hesitated, exhaling slowly. “Actually, I’ve been let go—”

‘Girl they fired you? What happened?’

‘For some time now they-‘

“Oh, hold on,” Nadia interrupted yet again. “One of the kids just knocked over an entire bag of flour. Lord help me.” There was a shuffle on the other end, her voice muffled as she scolded one of her children.

Simone waited, expecting her to return to the conversation. ‘Simone I got to run, I have to get these bad kids in the bath again. But don’t even worry about the job thing. You’ll land on your feet in no time. You always do. Oh, and thanks for always being so strong for me. Love you boo!”

The line went dead.

Simone sat staring at the phone for a long moment, the silence in her apartment growing louder by the second. The weight on her chest pressing harder than ever before.

The text messages that trickled in over the next few days didn’t help.

*You got this, Simone! You’ve been through worse!*

*Just take this as a lesson and bounce back! You always do.*

*You’re a strong, independent woman. You don’t need anyone to help you.*

*You’ll be fine. You always are.*

She searched for any messages asking her if she was ok; one that offered to come over, to sit with her, to let her cry if she needed to; but there was nothing aside from the various ‘ you can do this’ messages. Her friends and family felt she would push through like she always had. That she would be resilient.

But the truth is she wasn’t ok and no one noticed.

The idea of waking up tomorrow, of pushing through yet another day, felt unbearable. She couldn’t do this anymore. She didn’t want to do this anymore.

She decided to drag herself to her bathroom clutching onto her robe, the fabric now stained and worn from days of wear. As she stepped inside, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from crying, her once neatly kept hair now wild and tangled. The robe she gripped tightly against her body felt like the only thing holding her together. She looked less than a shell of herself, a once-pristine woman, now a ghost of the person she used to be.

She forces herself to look away, opening the medicine cabinet, to stare at the collection of pills inside. Sleeping pills. Anxiety medication she had never taken but was prescribed years ago. A shaky exhale is pushed out as she grabbed the bottle, her hands trembling, her vision blurry with tears.

Nadia, shows up at Simone’s apartment one day, unannounced, and feeling emotional. She knocked several times, waiting, then knocked again, harder this time. confident that she was home—she had seen her car parked outside on her way up.

"Simone, open up! It’s me," she called out, impatiently. ‘I really need to talk to you.’

After another moment of silence, she huffed, reaching into her bag for the spare key Simone had given her some time ago. Pushing the door open, she steps inside, kicking her shoes off.

"Girl, you won’t believe what happened.’ She starts as she is searching for Simon in the apartment. ‘I finally confronted Marcus about those texts, and we got into a huge fight.’ She stops to open the beer she got out from the fridge as she passes the sink with the dirty dishes. ‘I had to get out of there for a while—I need my best friend right. Now."

She moves through the apartment, stepping on the pile of dirty clothes on the floor.  "And! Get this! He tried to turned it back on me. Like I’m crazy!’ she moves towards the bathroom, the door slightly ajar ‘I mean, I saw the texts! Can you imagine?"

She gently tries to push the door but something is blocking it. ‘Ugh’ She rolled her eyes. "Girl, don’t tell me you’re being shy. We’ve got the same body parts, Open up!"

But then she saw it.

A hand, limp, barely visible against the cold tiles. "Simone?" she whispered, her heart hammering. She shoves the door open with all her strength, and that’s when she saw her. The blood drained from her face.

—Dr. Simone Cadwell, was collapsed on the bathroom floor, empty pill bottles scattered beside her.

She screamed.

Dr. Simone Cadwell was gone. She didn’t leave a note. What was there to say? They had already decided who she was. The strong friend. The independent daughter; never needing help from anyone and capable of coming back from anything.

Word spread slowly. The people whose lives she had touched, the colleagues she had mentored, and the friends she had always been there for learned of her passing in fragments—whispers, forwarded messages, brief condolences exchanged in group chats. Some were shocked, others guilty. Many promised to attend her funeral, but when the day arrived, most couldn’t make it. Life went on for them.

Her mother, still in mourning, notified Simone’s former company. They offered nothing—no public acknowledgment, no condolence message, not even a simple card.

As people passed by the opened casket to say their final goodbyes, they were seeing her for the first time. She wasn’t unbreakable, nor was she the resilient figure they had leaned on. Here in this casket, she was just a woman. A vulnerable woman who had been silently drowning, carrying burdens no one ever thought to lift from her shoulders.

Nadia saw her in the casket last, at loss for words. It was then and only then she understood: sometimes the strong friend needs saving too.

Posted Mar 01, 2025
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50 likes 61 comments

David Coons
19:09 Mar 13, 2025

After hearing a reading Sevie in person and now reading the short story, I find it provocative and inspiring

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04:00 Mar 14, 2025

I’m happy you find it provocative it demands the reader’s attention in a way

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Yo Soy Yo Soy
19:04 Mar 13, 2025

Great story

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Waeni S
15:33 Mar 13, 2025

Beautiful 😍 I love the African reference

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Ramsha Khan
14:22 Mar 13, 2025

A beautiful yet sad story and very well written

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Zee Natasha
13:02 Mar 13, 2025

Great story! The label of being a strong woman is a challenging one to navigate.

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15:32 Mar 13, 2025

yes it is! and it can sometimes come at a price as people tend to dehuminaze 'the strong one'

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Jori Al Jiran
11:25 Mar 13, 2025

Stunning peice

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03:54 Mar 14, 2025

Thank you 😊

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John Rutherford
05:54 Mar 13, 2025

You caught all the different angles and compiled all into the short story. Good read.

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15:33 Mar 13, 2025

I tried yes; thanks for noticing

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David Colman
00:01 Mar 13, 2025

This story addresses important themes with sensitivity and realism. With further development, it has the potential to profoundly impact readers, as it did me.

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15:35 Mar 13, 2025

I do hope its good enough to have a positive impact on the readers. I appreciate the critic.

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Alex D
12:08 Mar 12, 2025

An incredibly powerful and heartbreaking story that shines a light on the silent struggles of those who are always expected to be strong. It’s raw, emotional, and deeply moving, a necessary reminder to check in on the people who seem the most resilient. I couldn’t stop thinking about it long after I finished. Highly recommend!

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Frankie Shattock
18:14 Mar 09, 2025

You've written a very sad, but beautiful story Severine. Very good writing!

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21:39 Mar 09, 2025

Thanks- I was aiming to highlight some issues that come with being labeled a ‘strong woman’ it can be dangerous sometimes

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Frankie Shattock
23:52 Mar 09, 2025

Yes. I think you achieved your aim perfectly!

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Paul Hellyer
10:04 Mar 09, 2025

I liked the simplicity of the story. Its nice not reading fantastical tales about magic or technology every now and then. Thanks for writing this.

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21:40 Mar 09, 2025

You’re right! Whilst fantastical tales are also a good read sometimes it’s good to be able to strip this away and give something simple but easy to read.

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A. J. Rose
17:18 Mar 08, 2025

yeah i think i'm in the right place mentally and emotionally to be reading this story. very, very relatable, the whole "pray and you be aight" thing, people thinking "you got this" is enough. that's it, man, that's real. solid short story, you reached somebody out here.

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21:35 Mar 09, 2025

Oh I love that you could relate. Thanks for reading 🙂

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Ify Ify
23:49 Mar 02, 2025

This story carries a profound and emotional message, particularly for the Black community. It has the potential to reach a wide audience and create meaningful impact. I hope it gains the visibility it deserves, as it could save lives and encourage those struggling with the same battles Dr. Simone faced to seek help—regardless of how strong they believe they are or how strong others perceive them to be.

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21:43 Mar 09, 2025

Thank you for the feedback you’re right it is a message that’s particular to the black community specifically about the stigma that comes around seeking help let alone therapy. I’d be happy if even one person reads this, and realizes that Therapy is to the mine with the Gym is to the body; as in it does not have to be demonized.

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Isis Mosqueda
22:58 Mar 01, 2025

Great story!

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21:35 Mar 09, 2025

Thank you

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James Howard
17:00 Mar 01, 2025

Well that escalated quickly. I wasn't expecting it to end like that at all! Clear, hard-hitting writing, perfect delivery, and skillful handling of a sensitive, often overlooked subject. RIP Dr. Simone Cadwell '(

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21:36 Mar 09, 2025

It did yes! A bit of a roller coaster there 🙂

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Alexie Malloy
16:59 Mar 01, 2025

An amazing piece. Clearly the author has peeked behind the veil of what it is to be the strong friend and the isolation it can bring. Touching, eye opening and a good use of the word “color”.

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21:36 Mar 09, 2025

Thank you for your kind words. I’m glad you liked it

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Nat KH
01:15 Mar 15, 2025

I...this was a bit of a difficult read for me. It's a lovely piece of work, sensitively and beautifully written and for me it was highly emotive. I'm the daughter/sister/aunt/friend who is always there for everyone else, but find there's very rarely much interest when I'm struggling. Last Summer I almost took the same steps, but made the decision to fight for me, even if no-one else would. I'm not saying this to take anything away from your piece of work, but just wanted to tell you that I think you handled the subject extremely well and have done what you've said you wanted to achieve...Nat

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18:05 Mar 15, 2025

I’m happy and sad you can relate to the story. But also very happy you did not go through the ‘final steps’ and hope you are in a better place now mentally.

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Nat KH
17:22 Mar 22, 2025

Thank you Severine. I'm getting there. Slow and steady wins the race...

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Chac Ci
14:57 Mar 14, 2025

Thanks for sharing this important message.

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Densu Dixon
04:36 Mar 14, 2025

That last paragraph... wow

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Joseph Siotene
03:38 Mar 14, 2025

Great story! Amazing work!

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03:55 Mar 14, 2025

Thanks I’m glad you liked it

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