Finding Everyday Joy: How Black Women Can Cultivate Peace in Daily Life
Finding Joy in the Moment
Photo Credit: Dani DG via iStockPhoto.com
By: Jamila Gomez
Joy doesn’t always show up in big milestones or picture-perfect moments. For many Black women, joy has to be chosen — carved out between responsibility, exhaustion, and the weight of expectations we never asked to carry. Finding joy in everyday moments isn’t about pretending struggle doesn’t exist. It’s about refusing to let hardship be the only story we live inside of.
One of the most powerful ways to access everyday joy is through presence. Not the rushed, half-checked-out version of moving through the day — but intentional presence. That might look like slowing down long enough to taste your morning tea instead of gulping it while multitasking. It might be stepping outside for two minutes of fresh air between calls, letting the sun hit your face, and acknowledging, “I’m still here.” Joy grows when we stop running autopilot scripts and actually witness our own lives in real time.
Another path to joy comes from creating room for pleasure without guilt. Too many Black women have been conditioned to earn rest, to justify peace, to explain why we deserve softness. Choosing joy in small pleasures is an act of resistance. Light the candle you bought “for special occasions.” Play the song that shifts your mood and let yourself dance in the kitchen. Make a cup of hot cocoa for no reason other than it feels good. You don’t have to wait until the crisis is over to enjoy something simple. Joy doesn’t disrespect your pain. It reminds you there is still more to you than what hurts.
Connection is also a daily doorway to joy — not just deep friendships, but micro-connections we overlook. Sharing a laugh with a coworker, exchanging a knowing nod with another Black woman in the grocery aisle, texting someone who “gets it” without needing a long explanation. These tiny reminders that we are not alone carry more weight than we often acknowledge. Seeking — and allowing — connection is a way of letting joy breathe in community instead of suffering silently in isolation.
There’s also joy in honoring the body you live in today, not the version you think you “should” have by now. That might mean stretching before bed, taking a slow walk, putting on lotion with intention instead of rushing through it. It might be looking in the mirror and naming something you genuinely appreciate — your smile, your strength, your resilience — without tearing yourself apart first. Joy shows up when we stop treating our bodies like problems to fix and start treating them like homes to care for.
Another everyday practice is celebrating small wins — especially the ones nobody else sees. Maybe you sent the email you’d been avoiding. Maybe you set a boundary, or chose not to argue, or allowed yourself to cry instead of pushing through. Those moments matter. Black women are often praised for surviving chaos, but everyday joy grows when we acknowledge growth that doesn’t come from struggle. Naming these moments out loud shifts the narrative from “I made it” to “I am becoming.”
There is also joy in letting yourself dream — not in a distant, someday way, but through small acts of intention. Journaling for five minutes. Making a list of things you want more of, not just what you’re trying to escape. Rearranging a corner of your space so it feels like yours again. Joy expands when we allow ourselves to imagine a life that isn’t built only around endurance.
And finally, there is joy in giving yourself permission to be human. Not perfect. Not constantly strong. Human. Some days joy will feel loud and full. Other days it will be quiet and tender — a deep breath, a soft smile, a moment of release. But when you choose to notice it, protect it, and claim it without apology, everyday joy becomes less of a luxury and more of a practice — one that honors your wholeness, not just your survival.