By: Dr. Phyllis Bivins Hudson
December has a way of revealing who we really are—and who we are becoming. While the world is winding down, decorating trees, and counting shopping days, Black women are doing something deeper, quieter, and far more powerful.
We are reinventing, not because the calendar demands it or that we are broken, but because reinvention is woven into our DNA from our ancestors, our inheritance, our superpowers, our Black Girl Magic, and our legacy.
December is not just the end of a year for us. It’s the spiritual pause before the next rise. It’s our soft truth that we don’t always say out loud.
Black women often spend the year pouring into others—families, workplaces, classrooms, communities, sororities, other social organizations, and causes. We mend what is torn. We hold what is fragile. We carry what others cannot.
And by December, there’s a quiet exhaustion that settles in our bones, right alongside the pride we recognize in our works from all we’ve survived and achieved. With all this, what others see as the “holiday season,” we often experience as a season of reflection.
In that reflection, the questions begin to rise in a whisper: Who have I become this year? What parts of me need rest? What parts of me need rebirth? What is waiting for me on the other side of courage? How do I get where I’m going?
We ask these questions of ourselves because December gives us permission to ask them and answer them. But for every question we raise, whether answered or not, we recognize that reinvention is not necessarily starting over; it’s also stepping forward.
Reinvention for Black women is rarely a clean slate; it’s a continuation. A time for refining, reclaiming, and rebooting. We don’t abandon the old versions of ourselves—we honor them for carrying us this far. But we also know when it’s time to shed, transcend, or transform. And December, with its stillness and symbolism, becomes the perfect time to:
Release what hurt us, reframe what shaped us, reclaim what belongs to us, and rebuild what’s calling us.
So during this period of contemplation, while others are drafting their New Year’s resolutions, we are busy crafting rebirths of what is to come.
For me, December is special in different ways: It is my birth month. It is also the birth month of my four siblings. And December is a part of the next iteration of my soon-to-be-published book, Finding December.
December is also a part of the sacred rituals of Black women. We all have our own ways of preparing for the next version of ourselves, but some rituals feel almost universal.
Here are some most specific to Black women:
1. The Deep Clean
Not just the house, but the mind, the spirit, the friendships, the boundaries. We do a deep dive into what was and rid ourselves of the toxicity build-up.
2. The Hair Appointment
Every Black woman knows a fresh cut, color, or style is a declaration: Something new is coming, and so am I.
3. The Quiet Decision
Black women rarely announce change—we become it. New plans. New focus. New fire.
Made in silence. Revealed in confidence.
4. The Circle
Whether it’s sisters, aunties, girlfriends, or a trusted small tribe, December reminds us to reconnect with the women who pour back into.
5. The Elevation Plan
Our vision boards hit different. Our journals get honest. Our intentions gain teeth. Our non-negotiables become reality.
December belongs to us because we know how to rise from things people never saw us fall from. We understand transitions not as endings, but as portals. And because of that intuitiveness, December gives us what the rest of the year rarely does—space to hear our own voice. Because at points, the world slows down, but we speed up—spiritually, mentally, emotionally.
The clarity comes. The alignment settles in. The next chapter starts writing itself; all because we have learned now to rise from things other people never saw coming. And once the new year opens its eyes for all to see? We walk into it already transformed.
Until next time, keep flying on your own wings.