Daily writing prompt

What bothers you and why?

View all responses

Let’s not sugarcoat a damn thing.

You see that image? That Black woman? That fire in her eyes and fury in her stance? That is not “angry.” That’s ancestral pain. That’s generations of being erased from the story we built. That’s centuries of sweat, blood, brilliance, and survival shoved to the back of the textbook, and it bothers me down to my soul.

What bothers me is how this nation loves to celebrate freedom on the 4th of July but forgets who fought for it. Not the fake firework version. The real war. The war of being enslaved, erased, and told to be grateful for crumbs we planted, watered, and harvested.

It bothers me that the contributions of Black people are overlooked unless it’s convenient. Like we’re only worthy during Black History Month, or when a tragedy gets enough clicks to go viral. But every other day, we’re expected to “get over it,” “move on,” or worse smile through the injustice like it’s a damn parade.

It bothers me how America will throw a flag over injustice and call it patriotism while Black and Brown bodies lie cold in the streets or rot in cages, and nobody blinks until it’s trending.

It bothers me that people are still afraid of the truth. Afraid of the truth that we fought and freed this nation, too. That we bled, marched, built, nursed, birthed, invented, educated, and protested our way through every barrier they threw in front of us. And we’re still here. Still rising. Still denied.

he shirt says it all. “Happy 4th of July.” Because that’s what this holiday can feel like to many of us. A denial of our truth. A denial of justice. A denial of equity. The grill might be hot, and the fireworks might be pretty, but what’s underneath all that red, white, and blue is a Black history this country keeps trying to white out.

Because silence is a form of violence. Because smiling through systemic oppression is not healing, it’s hiding. Because our children deserve to grow up knowing the real history, not the censored version.

Because when a woman stands up with a pen in one hand and a middle finger in the other, she’s not just being rebellious. She’s telling the world: “You will NOT erase me. I am not asking. I’m declaring.”

This isn’t about hate, it’s about honor. Honoring the truth. Honoring the lives lost. Honoring the fight that’s not over yet. If this message makes you uncomfortable, good. Growth doesn’t happen in comfort.

We are not free until we are all free.
And we are not healed until we stop pretending the wounds aren’t still bleeding.

What bothers you and why? Don’t be quiet about it. Speak it. Write it. Paint it. Protest it.
Because change doesn’t happen by waiting. It happens when we refuse to be silenced.

Welcome to Treasurable Life.
Where truth lives. Where healing begins.
And where voices like mine and yours will always be heard.

✊🏾🖤🔥 #TreasurableLife #RawTruth#WeFoughtToo