A Black Girl’s Guide to 22

You survived adolescence, suffered through your peers, cried your tears, listened to your Jazmin Sullivan albums 100 times- now what? If you’re wondering exactly what to do with your twenty-two, girl you are not alone.

Here’s my sage advice as a twenty-two year old Black girl myself.

Step one: CRY

I know you’re thinking - “Girl, I thought we already cried our tears, what is crying gonna do?”

As much as I am tired of the tears girl- these past couple of years have been harder than most. Considering how many people we lost between 2020 and 2025, men and women who we’ve never met and mourned together. Families and friends we’ve cried for—it’s  okay to keep crying for yourself as well.

Give yourself the space to cry. This is a lesson I’ve had to use each of these twenty-two years and one I have to continue to learn. The weight of being a growing “grown” woman has been more than substantial. Especially in a political climate that feels starkly anti-Black, anti-woman, anti-other. Another year of surviving the majority…matter of fact I feel the tears coming right now.

Step two: Deep Breaths

I know, I can hear you through the screen: “Girl are you even trying??” But after we’re done crying all the tears we have been holding onto, after the dam has broken and all of the water has slipped through, we deserve to dry.

All of the weight that we carry from the wetness evaporated from our skin. The heaviness of our sopping hair now light and airy. That kind of lightness isn’t just physical—it’s spiritual. And it starts with something as simple as breathing. You made it to twenty-two, you’ve carried the burden, and learned your lessons (hopefully) and it’s time to take a moment. I used to be terrified to sit with myself. Terrified to be alone with my thoughts.

When you’re a Black girl, the idea that you have to stay strong—no matter what you’re going through—can feel so daunting. I knew that the moment I was alone with my feelings, I would crumble. What I didn’t realize sooner was that I was already crumbling. I was already breaking down—I was just doing it with an audience. Letting the pain of my experiences crush me. Letting myself cry on the shoulders of people who profited from that pain.

I know it’s hard. I know it’s scary to not feel strong. But the sooner we sit with ourselves, the sooner we start to heal. Start that breathing, sis. I’ll be here.

Step Three: Don’t be afraid to fail

Stop being so afraid to fail, PLEASE fail, fail at every new thing you try. Learn, and fail again. When Issa from “Insecure” failed we didn’t hate her, we related to her, we gave her sympathy. Why can't we do that for ourselves? Whenever I set a goal for myself I get so afraid of what I might do wrong, how I might fail, and what that will cause me to miss out on. I've missed out on so much life just being afraid to start.

We saw that when Issa broke up with Lawrence. We saw it when she started Ubering to make ends meet, and when she started to build her life back up by and for herself. We saw Issa needed to fail to succeed and grow. By the end of the show she was a whole new her and I was just as proud as if I’d done the work myself.

We let our fear of failure hold us back from becoming great. Allow yourself to fail.

Step Four: Find Your Path

I’ll be the first to tell you—I don’t have it all figured out. I’m a mess. God’s been dealing with me every single day. Lauryn Hill said the same thing during the fifth interlude of her MTV Unplugged No. 2.0 set. She talked about tormenting herself until she uncovered the root of her pain—and in doing so, discovered the path to healing. That “album”—I say album because that’s how it’s formatted on Spotify—has carried me through some of the hardest seasons of my life.

So when I say find your path I don’t mean some grand career epiphany or spiritual enlightenment overnight. I mean: just take the next step. Your step. Maybe that’s deciding you want to go back to school, getting your license, breaking up with that man you secretly hate, or finally forgiving yourself for what you couldn’t control. Finding your path is not going to happen overnight, but laying the foundation makes crossing a whole lot easier.

Step Five: Do It for Yourself

We love our family and friends. I know I want to be the best version of myself for the people I care about—but would I do it just for me? There’s so much pressure to achieve for the approval of our loved ones, and on top of that, society expects us to beat statistics, stereotypes, and glass ceilings. I want you to take a moment to check in with yourself: When was the last time you did something just for you? When you succeed, is it for your own joy, or are you still on stage—sweating under the lights—for the applause of your peers?

I struggle with this a lot. When I say “doing things for myself,” I don’t mean buying a new book or getting my braids redone. I mean real, deep goals. I’ve always felt like my dreams have to serve the people around me. That their pride in me matters more than my own pride in myself. But in 2025? That’s dead. I want to succeed, and I want to do it for me.

Maybe you’ve been singing in your room for years and you’re finally ready to do your first show. Before you get on that stage, remind yourself: this is for you.

That goes for any goal or achievement you’re chasing. This is your life. Take stock of how it will impact you—how it will make you feel, when no one else is watching. Then, and only then, factor everything else in. But above all else, Sis—do it for yourself.

Step Six: Learn to Let Go

Not everyone and everything in your life is going to serve you — and it’s okay to let go.

In times like this it’s so hard letting go of friendships is its own kind of heartbreak — especially when community is everything. Losing that sense of belonging is visceral.

I could talk about a million references to shows and movies…but I want to be real with you. Growing pains suck. Everything I feel myself slipping away from—whether it be hobbies, friends, ideals—I feel it so deeply.

Like I’ve been connected at the skin to these things I’m supposed to grow from. It’s so much worse than ripping off a band-aid.

I don’t expect everyone to relate to my sentiments on God, but my faith has allowed me to just say: “Let go and let God.” It’s okay to let go. Sometimes, people we thought would be there forever need to let go of us too. Whatever the reason, we have to release that pain and anger — the kind that comes with growth. That’s what allows us to change. You’re allowed to let go and still be whole. “To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did. You have to take time to live. Tomorrow’s not promised to anybody.” -Doctor, My Eyes by Khamari

It’s okay, girl. We can always revisit step one while we go through step six.

Step Seven: Do It Scared

Life is scary- the possibilities are endless and so are the consequences. If you’ve been with me this far you know what I’m going to say. Twenty-two is your time to test the waters. You don’t have to have everything figured out, it’s okay to expand your horizons and do you. Go on that girls trip that hasn’t left the group chat for the last 3 years. Do the things you’ve always wanted to try but never felt comfortable doing.

You think Serena Williams let the fear of failure stop her from Winning four Olympic gold medals? Do you think Maya Angelou let fear stop her from writing 174 poems? You think SZA let fear keep her from going on a grand national tour with THE Kendrick Lamar (my baby daddy) and winning five Grammys?

No they did it scared.

Actually, to quote SZA herself: “Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back.” -SZA

“Girl, you say that…but aren’t you scared? How long did it take you to take your own advice?” The great thing about this guide is that I’m writing it for me, too. These are lessons I carry with me every single day. I’m constantly scared. I was scared to write this — scared to be vulnerable, to be seen. But I did it scared anyway.

And you can too.

Step Eight: Love Your Inner Child

Growing up as a minority is no easy feat. But growing up a Black woman, part of a diaspora the world has learned to dismiss? That’s another weight entirely. I grew up in South City St. Louis, a place that wasn’t the best to be raising small children, but a place where the faces looked like mine. Where I was seen as beautiful and celebrated—then my family moved to South County. You’d think that moving from the city to the county wouldn’t be that big of a change, however you would be wrong.

I was one of four Black kids in my grade when I first moved. Constantly feeling isolated, I tried so hard to suppress the parts of myself that didn’t fit into their idea of cool or “normal.” I stopped believing that I was a beautiful little girl. All of these white faces told me I was ugly.

It’s so hard to get out of that mindset but we’re spending twenty-two unlearning those behaviors. You are beautiful and we don’t need white faces to validate our beauty anymore. Do things that your twelve year old self could only dream of. Write the essay, buy the comic books, because you are cool and interesting even if you don’t know what the fuck a kayak is. Indulge your inner child, let her feel like she’s gorgeous and wanted. We’ve suppressed her for so long, and there’s so much healing to do.

Step Nine: Take a Break

We’re coming to the end of the road—of course I’m playing Boyz II Men to commemorate the moment. Originally, this step was going to be about forgiving yourself and what an uphill battle that is—especially when we still have so much time to make new mistakes. Originally. But then I had to step away for myself. I couldn’t figure out how to make this section more captivating. How could I tie everything I said up until now into an inspirational section? I couldn’t figure it out, and your girl was stressing.

So I took a step back, let myself cry, breathe, and remind myself that I’m doing this for myself. We all need to remember—not every day is game day. We’re allowed to step away and come back. Black women are so expected to overachieve and over-perform. We constantly feel like we have to earn the life we built for ourselves. From one Black woman to another: girl, please sit down. Watch As Told by Ginger. (Ya’ll know about As Told by Ginger? I can’t believe she married Darren!) I took a four-day break to let myself recharge. I didn’t even think about the essay until I was watching ATBG clips on YouTube and thought to myself, “Wow… this has been a nice break.” Some of us are mothers, business owners, students, writers, interns, baristas—

girl, regardless of the title you carry, above all else, you’re deserving. So please take the break you deserve—even if it’s a break from this essay. Just remember to come back for Step Ten.

Don’t worry—I’ll wait.

Step Ten: Repeat

Even when you’ve made it past twenty-two and into twenty-three, twenty-four, and beyond—there’s still so much growing to do. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to pause. It’s okay to fail, to let go, to begin again. Healing isn’t linear—and that’s okay. As long as you move through each day with intention to improve, you’re doing just fine.

The truth is you don’t need a Black Girl’s Guide to 22. You just need to have that faith in yourself and your ability to succeed. Because you can and you WILL succeed. I have faith in you, but if you need a reminder or a pick me up, or a one-sided conversation with a homegirl. Well I’m here for that too.

Just go through your life, think through your steps— repeat, repeat, repeat.

Sincerely,

Jade