When Tragedy Is the Wake-Up Call: What Mental Health Support Must Look Like for Black Mothers

I came across a story that felt like a punch to the gut. My heart sank.  A mother. Her child. A courtroom. And once again, the words “not guilty by reason of insanity” stamped across yet another tragedy that didn’t have to happen. Don’t even get me started on the disgusting things being said in the comments. You trolls should really be ashamed, but that would require humanity. 

The headlines make it easy to distance ourselves — to categorize stories like these as rare and shocking. The reality is it could be any one of us.  You never know how any mental illness will affect someone. The fact of the matter is: this is what happens when we don’t see Black mothers in their pain. When we expect them to survive everything alone. When someone sees the signs and says nothing.  When mental health support is something they only get after a crisis.

It shouldn’t take the worst day of someone’s life to finally talk about what’s needed.

The Invisible Struggle of Black Mothers

Black mothers are expected to be everything. The nurturer, the provider, the protector, the fixer. And too often, they’re all of those things while also battling untreated anxiety, depression, trauma, and exhaustion. There’s no space to fall apart — because falling apart might mean losing your job, your children, or your safety.

We don’t talk enough about the mental load. We don’t ask often enough how Black mothers are really doing. And even when they do speak up, they’re often ignored, misdiagnosed, or handed vague advice instead of real care. Knowing what we know, young mothers especially, should be afforded the opportunity to be supported.  Bring back the village; we need community.

According to the CDC, Black women are significantly more likely to experience postpartum complications — but they’re also less likely to be screened or treated for postpartum depression. This isn’t just about medicine. It’s about being seen. Black mothers deserve to be seen by their partners, families and medical professionals. 

What Prevention Actually Looks Like

When people talk about preventing tragedies, they often picture punishment — more surveillance, more police, more control. But prevention isn’t control. It’s compassion. It’s care and effort from all possible angles: laws and legislation, medical research, and communities, including our own.

Prevention looks like:

- Educating ourselves and our communities of the warning signs
- Peer support groups that affirm and uplift
- Culturally competent therapists who listen without judgment
- Safe spaces where mothers can cry, vent, and be human
- Systems that respond with help, not handcuffs

At MentalBlkMom, we’re working every day to be part of that prevention. Our virtual peer-to-peer support group is free, accessible, and created by Black mothers who understand what it means to carry everything quietly. It’s a space to feel safe, to be heard, and to breathe.

And that’s just the beginning.

How You Can Help Us Do More

We believe in community care. But we also know we can’t do this work alone.

Here’s how you can join us:
- Join our virtual support group or share it with a mom who might need it
- Sponsor a support group session — your donation helps us expand access and sustain these safe spaces
- Licensed therapist? We’re looking for volunteers to help us launch a clinically-supported group alongside our peer circle
- Talk about this — normalize it, share this blog, and help us shift the narrative

This isn’t charity. It’s a movement. It’s about building the kind of world where moms don’t have to suffer in silence and can receive the care they need before it’s too late. 

This Is Bigger Than One Story

This blog isn’t about pointing fingers. It’s about preventing more headlines like the one we saw last month..

Because every time we ignore mental health, we gamble with someone’s life — a mother, a child, a family. And every time we create space for care, we plant the seeds for healing.

MentalBlkMom exists because we believe in catching women before the edge. We believe that healing is possible — when mothers are seen, held, and supported in real time.

If you believe that too, we’d love for you to be part of this with us.