You know that look. That moment. That nod.
When you’re walking down the hallway and spot another Black woman.
Even if you don’t know her name, you know her.
You catch eyes. You nod. Sometimes it’s a half-smile.
Sometimes it’s the “hey girl” that doesn’t even need to be said.
That moment? It’s sacred.
It says, “I see you. I know what it took for you to be here.”
“You’re not alone.”
And yet—every now and then—there’s that one moment that knocks the wind out of you. When you catch eyes with another Black woman at work and… she doesn’t nod back. Not just once, but consistently. She looks away. Walks past you. Barely acknowledges your presence.
The Competition Complex No One Asked For
Now let me say this clearly, this in most cases is the exception, not the rule. But when it happens? It stays with you. Because that unspoken sisterhood we tend to expect? It feels fractured.
So let’s talk about it. Let’s be clear, it’s not just about a nod one day. Everyone has their days where they aren’t feeling it. But have you ever had that experience at work, where it felt like another Black woman saw you as the threat?
Where you entered the room ready to connect, collaborate, and uplift—but were met with guarded energy? A cold shoulder? Passive-aggressive energy?
Did you find yourself wondering: Wait, what just happened?
Did I do something? Or is this something deeper?
If you’ve been there, you’re not crazy. You’re not dramatic.You’re not imagining things.
It’s what we like to call the Competition Complex—and yes, it shows up in our own communities, too.
There's Not Room for Just One of Us
Somewhere along the way, a lie was planted: That there’s only room for one. One Black woman who gets the praise. One who’s the “exception.”
One who’s seen as “smart,” “articulate,” “leadership material.”
And if she already exists… where does that leave you? It’s a mindset shaped by scarcity, tokenism, and centuries of being pitted against one another in systems that were never built with us in mind.
But here’s the kicker: Moving like that doesn’t protect you.
It isolates you. It reinforces the very systems we’re trying to break.
So I want to ask you—Have you ever caught yourself slipping into that mindset? Have you ever viewed another Black woman as competition before you saw her as community? (No shame. This is a space for real talk.)
And if you’ve been on the receiving end of that energy, how did it make you feel?
The Magic When Black Women Link Up
Here’s for sure: When Black women build with each other, everybody wins. When we share what we know, we multiply power—not divide it.
When we stop side-eyeing and start strategizing together, we become unstoppable.
The real flex is community. Not competition.
So the next time you walk down that hallway and lock eyes with a sister…
Lead with love. Lead with warmth. Lead with the nod.
And if she doesn’t return it? That’s her battle, not yours. But just know—when Black women do link arms? Whew. Magic happens. Systems shift. Legacies are built.
Let's Chat
Have you ever had this experience at work—on either side of it?
What do you think drives that disconnect?
And how do we heal it? Drop your thoughts below.