Why Everyone’s Talking About Divine Feminine Energy but Still Don’t Respect Black Matriarchs?

Let’s be real, divine feminine energy is not a trend.

It’s ancestral. It’s deep. It’s bloodline.

And Black matriarchs?

We are the blueprint. We were embodying sacred feminine energy long before it got rebranded with flower crowns and aesthetic filters.

Now everybody’s drinking rose tea, calling it “goddess work,” living their “soft life”…

But still ignoring the women who taught the world how to hold both softness and struggle in the same breath. This new-age divine femininity got folks romanticizing rest, while looking sideways at the Black mothers, aunties, and grandmothers who built whole legacies while bleeding in silence.

And Here’s the Hard Truth:

A lot of Black men were raised in matriarchal homes—by default or by divine force.

Mothers. Grandmothers. Sisters. Women who carried the emotional, spiritual, and financial weight of entire bloodlines. Yet some of these same men grow up disrespecting the very structure that shaped them. They praise fatherhood, but resent the mother who did both jobs. They want to be kings, but forget the queen who kept the castle standing. They chase divine feminine women, but call us “too strong” when we don’t shrink.

Let’s get this clear:

The Black matriarch was never a mistake. She was a miracle.

 

What Gets Overlooked in Our Unplanned Matriarchies:

• Emotional strength that birthed intuitive leadership.

• Community wisdom that held generations together.

• Quiet power expressed through prayer, presence, and ritual.

• Sacred strategy passed down without manuals or safety nets.

We didn’t lead everything because we wanted to—we did it because we had to. And we still chose to lead with love. That’s divine feminine in its rawest, realest, and most sacred form.

The Truth About Performative Divine Femininity:

Everybody wants the look:

• White linen

• Flower crowns

• Sensual stretching

• Moon water rituals

But they don’t want the labor it takes to live this truth, especially when you’ve been told your softness isn’t worth protecting. They’ll talk about womb healing—but flinch at the word matriarch. They’ll light candles—but forget the women who lit the damn way. We didn’t just perform sacred femininity. We carried it through grief, birth, heartbreak, protest, and Sunday dinner.

• She is structure without domination.

• She is discipline without ego.

• She is softness without submission.

• She is spiritual without silence.

• She reminds us that real divine feminine power isn’t about being chosen—
  It’s about choosing yourself so hard that it becomes a mirror for everyone around you.

If your version of divine femininity doesn’t include reverence for Black matriarchs?

It’s not divine. It’s decorative.

Don’t just honor divine feminine energy.

Honor where you got it from.

From the Black women who held it down and held it sacred, even when nobody gave them flowers. Because divine femininity? Ain’t complete without the matriarchs who made your softness possible.