As a black woman, I’ve always prided myself on my independence and resilience. For years, as a mentor and “social media hype woman,” I’ve offered guidance and support to other women. A few months ago, I realized that even mentors need mentors. It was a humbling moment that forced me to confront my vulnerability and acknowledge that I needed help navigating certain aspects of my life. At 44, I was settling into the “single boy mom life” while also figuring out this new me.

For so long, I had bought into the narrative of the “strong Black woman” — the idea that I should be able to handle everything on my own without showing any signs of weakness. Admitting that I needed a mentor felt like admitting defeat, as if I lacked strength or wisdom. It took me some time to accept that seeking guidance didn’t diminish my strength; it was an act of empowerment. This was growth.

One of my biggest challenges was overcoming the stigma around asking for help. In a society that often expects Black women to be self-sufficient and resilient in the face of adversity, reaching out for support can feel like a sign of weakness. I worried about how others would perceive me. I thought about if someone would even want to mentor me. Imposter syndrome started to set in. Was I a fraud?

I realized that seeking mentorship was not a sign of weakness but a testament to my strength and courage. It takes great humility and self-awareness to recognize when we need assistance and even more courage to ask for it. By embracing vulnerability, I was able to open myself up to new opportunities for growth and learning.

When I decided to seek out a mentor, I had questions about what exactly I was looking for in this relationship. After all, I already had a mother who had been a guiding force in my life. However, I soon realized that the mentorship I sought went beyond parenting. I needed someone who could offer a different perspective and understand the unique challenges I faced as a Black woman navigating the complexities of life in my forties.

So, where did I start? I began by examining my strengths and weaknesses, identifying areas where I could use guidance and support. I also took the time to reflect on the qualities I admired in others — resilience, wisdom, empathy — and sought out individuals who embodied those traits. I compiled a list of women in my community and friend circle on similar career paths.

I contacted friends, colleagues, and acquaintances, asking for recommendations and referrals. I attended networking events, seeking to connect with people who could offer insight and wisdom from their own lived experiences. I even posted “I need a mentor” as my Facebook status.

Soon after, I found myself with a network of mentors or my “advisory board” who were willing to share their knowledge, offer guidance, and support me on my journey of self-discovery and personal growth.

The most important lesson I learned was to be open and ask for help. There are people out there who want to see you win. As Black women, we often believe that we must be strong and resilient in the face of adversity;  we must keep our emotions in check and never let our guard down.

By allowing myself to be vulnerable, I opened myself up to new opportunities for growth. It was empowering.

Today, I am proud to say that I am a mentee — a lifelong learner committed to growth and self-improvement. I realized that this is an act of self-love and self-care.

To my fellow Black women, I urge you to embrace vulnerability and seek mentorship. Whether you’re navigating the challenges of career advancement, personal development, or motherhood, know that you are not alone. A village of mentors is waiting to support you, uplift you, and empower you to reach your full potential. So don’t be afraid to ask for help, seek guidance, and embrace the journey of self-discovery and growth.

Do you have a mentor? If not, will you seek one?