Last week, the confirmation hearing for Ketanji Brown Jackson was a painful reminder of how Black women are often expected to be strong — even when our hearts are breaking.

Every time there’s a public lynching, or a hearing like the one last week, we as Black and Brown Women of Color get to be in double jeopardy. There is a double layer of expectations to suck it up, not break down, or cry. “Be strong.” There’s also having to deal with the reality of our own personal experiences and experiences with our brothers and sisters in the news. But no one talks about when we as Black and Women of Color get to be soft and safe.

So if you’ve been crying in the bathroom, in the closet, or in your car I give you permission to not do this anymore. Connect with supportive friends, family, and if possible, a therapist to learn healthy coping skills. Because every time you chose to be a strong Black woman, you go against your brain and body’s natural and healthy response to express sadness and pain.

By suppressing those experiences, you increase the stress hormone in your body, raise your blood pressure, and send your organs in overdrive going against what they are supposed to. Our stress response has a cycle, and if it’s not completed, as in getting it out through expressions, crying, or movement (working out of walking), it stays stored in your body and continues to build until you reach your breaking point.

I remember when I chose to no longer be the strong Black woman anymore. It was in different moments, that I slowly started deciding to own my real feelings and not do what I was expected to do. I canceled appointments and got together with friends when I was overwhelmed because I didn’t want to socialize and pretend to be okay. I started saying “No” to requests at work and stopped myself from reflexively volunteering for more work. I cried in front of my friends and allowed them to support me. I asked for help and started delegating more tasks to others who gladly took on the responsibilities. I got comfortable with the unfamiliarity and discomfort of what I was so conditioned to do! Until I finally being soft and feeling safe became more familiar to me. I’m at the point now that it’s my usual state of being, and it feels harmful to be the strong black woman. This week I invite you to do the same. I give you permission to not be strong anymore and practice being human.