The Loneliness of Black Women in Leadership

It’s a well-documented fact that Black women hold a disturbingly minute percentage of senior and executive leadership roles across sectors and industries.

We know the statistics. We know what they say about systemic barriers and how structural misogynoir continues to shape our workplaces.

But there’s another story tucked inside those numbers. A quieter story. One that doesn’t make headlines but shapes lived experience every day: the isolation and loneliness of Black women in leadership.

The Weight of Carrying Everyone

For so many of us, leadership comes with an unspoken expectation: to carry others as we climb. Family, community, colleagues — we try to bring everyone with us.

But the truth is, not everyone can or will stay with you on your leadership journey. Some will be left behind. And while that may be a natural part of growth, for Black women it can feel like betrayal. We are taught to hold it all, to carry everyone, to make space for as many as possible. The idea of leaving someone where they are feels like a bitter pill.

And yet, true leadership sometimes asks us to release that weight. To lead with open hands instead of clenched fists. To trust that our growth does not have to come at the cost of our community — but that it may change the shape of how we walk with them.

The Loneliness of the First, the Only, the Few

Then there’s the other truth: what it feels like when you finally step into those senior leadership spaces.

When you are the first. The only. Or one of a few.

The weight of walking into rooms where your color, your culture, your perspective is not reflected back to you can be disorienting. No matter how prepared you are, no matter the credentials you carry, the silence of that absence is loud.

That loneliness is a cost leadership rarely talks about.

Navigating the Loneliness

So how do we carry leadership when it feels so heavy?

• Seek or build community: Whether it’s formal networks or spaces like The Melanin Suite, being in rooms with other Black women leaders reminds you that you are not walking alone.

• Redefine support: Leadership doesn’t have to mean carrying everyone. It can also mean modeling boundaries, inviting collaboration, and allowing others to rise alongside you.

• Stay rooted in self: The absence of reflection in a room doesn’t erase your brilliance. Rituals of grounding — journaling, mentorship, or affirmations — remind you that your leadership is valid, even if unmirrored.

Loneliness may come with leadership, but isolation doesn’t have to.

And Yet, We Lead

Black women keep showing up. We keep leading, innovating, and making a way where there was none. We keep creating pathways, even when we’re not sure anyone will walk them with us.

But here’s the truth I want every Black woman leader to hear: you are not alone.

Even in spaces where it feels like you’re carrying the weight of both progress and isolation, there is a community of us — seen and unseen — rooting for you, holding you, and building alongside you.

A Call to Reflection

So I leave you with this: What has leadership cost you — and what has it given you?

Because both matter. And both deserve to be named.

be well, sis.