26 BLACK WOMEN

The Moment You Realize You Can’t Keep Doing This

Sadija A. Smiley

Sadija A. Smiley, whose story explores a panic attack in Black women and the pressure of doing too much

Sadija A. Smiley had spent years being the one who kept everything moving. She made the appointments, handled what needed to be handled, showed up for her family, worked, built her nonprofit, and kept going long after everyone else had gone to sleep.

From the outside, it looked like she was managing it all. Inside, she was running herself down. Years of pressure, high expectations, and doing too much finally caught up with her in the form of a panic attack that sent her to an emergency room parking lot, where she found herself afraid to go inside because she could not stop thinking about who would take care of everything if she did.

LISTEN TO  SADIJA’S STORY

“The thread had been pulling for years. And it finally, like
the whole ball of yarn, for an analogy, came apart
and completely unraveled.”

WHEN THE PANIC ATTACK MADE STOPPING UNAVOIDABLE

Sadija had been running on pressure for years. She was used to performing, handling things, and making sure everybody else was taken care of. Even when she was exhausted, asking for help felt harder than pushing through.

Then one day, the pressure showed up in her body. Her chest tightened, she thought she was having a heart attack, and she drove herself to the emergency room. But once she got there, she sat in the parking lot afraid to go inside because all she could think about was what would happen if she were admitted and who would take care of everything she had been managing. 

She later learned it was a panic attack, but the deeper realization was harder to ignore. She had built a life where even a medical emergency felt like something she did not have room to respond to. That was the point where continuing the same way stopped feeling possible.

WHEN LOOKING LIKE SHE HAD IT TOGETHER HID WHAT WAS HAPPENING

Sadija had spent so long performing competence that even the people closest to her did not know how much she was struggling. She was getting things done, showing up, helping other people, and looking like someone who could handle whatever came her way.

But that version of her life left almost no room for anyone to see when she was overwhelmed. Asking for help felt like it would require explaining everything she had been hiding, and doing that felt harder than continuing to manage it alone.

By the time the panic attack happened, the gap between what people saw and what she was actually living had become impossible to maintain. Sadija could finally see that looking capable had helped keep her unsupported.

“It literally is a disconnect. It was like two people, right? It’s almost like living a double life where on the outside, I’m doing all these things. I’m seemingly, again, doing so much and getting so much done.”

WHEN SHE STARTED UNLEARNING STRONG

Sadija is still early in this shift. After more than twenty years of doing life by handling everything herself, letting support in does not feel automatic yet. Sometimes she still catches herself slipping back into the old routine because that version of strength had become habit.

What has changed is that she can see the pattern now. She is beginning to call friends, respond to voice messages, go out, ask for help, and allow herself moments that are not organized around responsibility. None of it feels effortless yet, but it feels different enough that she has a name for where she is.

She calls it strong rehab, the process of learning how not to default to doing everything alone and how to let support become part of her life instead of something she only thinks about after she has already reached the edge.

“I consider myself to be in strong rehab. That’s where I’m at right now. And so I’m going through the rehabilitation of not being so strong and allowing support.”

WHEN SUPPORT MEANT LETTING PEOPLE IN

For a long time, Sadija made support harder to access because so much of what she was struggling with stayed hidden. Asking for help felt like it would require a full explanation of everything she had been holding together, and that felt more exhausting than just continuing to do it herself.

What changed was not that support suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She began using what was already around her differently. She started calling friends, sending voice messages, going out, and letting people know when she was not having a good day instead of waiting until everything had already piled up.

For Sadija, letting people in has become part of learning that support does not have to begin with a crisis. Sometimes it starts with saying out loud that you are not okay and allowing somebody else to know.

“It’s been challenging, but it’s also been liberating, because it’s a shift. I’m so used to doing everything by myself or this feeling like I had to that sometimes I revert back.”

WHEN REST STOPPED MEANING SHE WAS FALLING SHORT

Even after Sadija decided something had to change, slowing down brought its own discomfort. She had spent so many years measuring a good day by what got done that rest could still feel like she was failing, wasting time, or stepping away from her purpose.

Now she is practicing something different. She intentionally creates time when there are no decisions to make and no one can reach her. At work, that can mean blocking an hour on her calendar as private. At home, it means teaching her daughters that she is no longer automatically available simply because she always has been.

The deeper shift is learning that stopping does not erase everything she has already done. Her impact does not disappear because she takes a break, and her value does not depend on staying in motion.

“Just because you’re resting or slowing down, it doesn’t negate all the beautiful, wonderful things and all the impact you’ve created just because you are slowing down.”

ABOUT SADIJA A. SMILEY

Sadija A. Smiley is a mother, author, entrepreneur, and the founder of Stillborn and Infant Loss Support, a Maryland-based nonprofit that supports families after pregnancy and infant loss. Her work is deeply personal, shaped by her own experience losing her daughter at 36 weeks and the support she wished families had in those moments. SadijaA

She is also the author of After the Silence, which helps mothers navigate pregnancy and infant loss. Through her nonprofit and her writing, Sadija has built the kind of community-centered support she once needed herself, while continuing to speak honestly about grief, motherhood, and what it means to stop doing everything alone.

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