

These 4 White Women Discuss Racism. And You're Going To Want To Read What They Have To Say.
Like so many of us, I've experienced my fair share of racism as a black woman in America. Growing up in the south, it was a normal day to pass hundreds of Confederate flags and a number of white supremacist's statues on my way to school (blatant racism). And in Chicago, it's completely normal to drive past a corrupt police department on an ignored and under-resourced south side, and pull up to a multi-billion dollar invested, highly-protected and resourced downtown/northside, on the way to work (systemic racism).
My first actual experience with racism, a white lady called my sister a “nigger" at a swimming pool for accidentally splashing her son. We told our mother what happened, and her natural mother bear mode instantly activated, as she jumped up to confront the lady. Instead, her husband jumped in my mother's face and said these words that still sting to this day: “Get the fck out of here or we're going to be hanging some heads tonight." I was 6.
My mother did something I have never seen her do before, she backed down. I remember being confused. My mother never backs down.
Far too many of us have the same experiences, but outside of anger, we're never sure where to start to end it. We've made some progress, but how can we continue making waves within the uprising that is happening today?
One way: talk about it. Mostly importantly, talk about it with white people (and by that I mean actually have the conversation and not some Facebook debate).
So, we took the time to ask a group of white women (from varying ages and backgrounds) their thoughts on the current state of the country. We also asked them to discuss the racism that they've witnessed in the past, and what they plan to do to help fix it. Each woman respectfully and honestly shared their very real experiences with us, which may be triggering to some. But again, it's real. So, let's have this very real conversation together.
Because as the great queen muva, Rihanna, says: "This is their problem too...so pull up."
(some responses may be cut or edited for clarity, but never to change their narrative).
De'Shae | 34 | Little Rock, AR
Photo Courtesy of De'Shae Bumgardner
The first time that I can remember even realizing that race existed was when I was about four years old. One of my parents told me that they would disown me if I were to ever date a "n***er". I was extremely confused because, sadly, that was also the name of my pet cat. I thought, Why in the world would they think I would want to date a cat?!
When they told me that the word stood for black people, I was even more confused...
My Thoughts On The Current State Of The Country
I have a lot of mixed emotions about the current state of the country. On one hand, I feel extremely proud of the people who are standing up against racial injustice, but on the other, I hate that in 2020, racial injustice is still happening. And it doesn't help that we have a president whose words and actions fuel white supremacy, which is a direct threat to my son's life and the lives of all people of color. His fuel has also ignited the racism within so many friends and family members, who I've had to cut ties with. Before the Trump presidency, my son had never been the subject of direct racism. Since then, I have gotten several racist death threats from supposed strangers.
I try to be optimistic about the future and I hope it will get better with time, but I also have my doubts and I wonder if I want to wait around to see if it ever happens.
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
My biggest inspiration is my son. Before having him, I thought I was doing enough by just loving black people and hating the N-word. After having him, something ignited inside of me that has made it one of my life goals to do everything in my power to help make this country a safer and more equal place for him and all black people.
I wish I could be with my son on the battle grounds at all times, but I can only help equip him with the tools to win. Tools I had to gain first; tools I have never, as a white person, been required to use before.
One of these tools is my voice and I use it by speaking out as much as possible.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
I was in second grade when my best friend joined my mom and I to go see a movie. The place was packed, so my friend who is black sat in my mom's lap. Several white people behind us voiced their opinion about how disgusting they thought it was to let a black person sit in her lap. They called her a "n***er". She didn't shed a tear, but I did. I had never witnessed that type of situation. When we got back home and discussed it further, and she basically told me that she had been called that name so much, that she was numb to it.
She was nine years old and already had a racial journey. From there on out, I realized how incredibly brave black people are forced to be.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
I support black people by always speaking out. I try to listen and learn from those in my life. I use my white privileges to intervene when my black friends are mistreated. I intentionally shop with black businesses and donate to various causes that help the black community.
I have also tried my best to support my black son. When I realized that his public school was only teaching him a watered-down version of black history for one month a year, I pulled him from school and began homeschooling him. I currently work full-time, and have been homeschooling my son for the past two years. Instead of once a year, he now learns about black history and black excellence almost daily.
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
I honestly feel extremely understood and accepted by all of the black women that I have encountered. If anything, I would hope they understand that I am on their side, I see them, I hear them, I highly respect them, and I strive to learn more about how I can help them.
Bridging The Gap
I think that both sides having an open and honest dialogue helps tremendously. I learned so much from just comparing how police have treated me versus how my friends of color have been treated in the same situations. I have gone to a gas station before and the clerk told me that my $50 bill was counterfeit (exactly the same as George Floyd). But I was THANKED for my "help." I was not reprimanded in any way.
So, I think the biggest thing that white people can do is listen to learn, instead of listening to respond. Also, learning history that was not white-washed opened my eyes about a lot of things that I had previously misunderstood.
Kim | 33 | Metairie, LA
As a child, I was used to being one of the only white girls around.
I noticed that when I went into the stores with my friends, that I wasn't followed around the same way they were. That's what made me realize that me being white made people around me feel a different way towards me...
My Thoughts On The Current State Of The Country
I'm excited/scared about the current state of this country. I'm excited to see that people have become fed up with the current system of oppression. I wish there was a better way to convey our disgust with the current system, but since the powers that be have yet to listen to peaceful protests, this is where we are.
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
I want to say that I've always been receptive to my black friends' issues. I certainly know that I get extremely upset when they are upset but I try to refrain and just listen.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
I grew up in South Georgia where I was raised southern baptist. I would go to my black friends' church and would always feel welcome. When I brought my black friends to my mama's church, the energy was not comparable in the least. I KNEW something was off.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
I try to closely observe and read up on issues, rather than ask my friends to educate me because why should I ask them take on more emotional labor than they need to?
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
There's not really much that I expect for black women to understand about me. It's not their job. I get frustrated when white people expect black people to explain to them their fucking humanity because IT'S NOT THEIR JOB! And if white people expect them do it, pay them for the emotional labor.
I guess I'm saying that I want black women to know that they don't owe me anything and I will always be here to listen. I've learned that I'm way better at getting my point across in person, so I try to not explain anything on social media. I tend to be curt and sarcastic when speaking with an "all lives matter" audience, and that doesn't help anyone.
Bridging The Gap
I don't think that black people really need to do much to bridge the gap. This is a responsibility that solely rests on our souls. I mean, historically, it was white people who started this mess, so why is it so hard for them to put in the emotional labor and see things in a different light (as you can see I am big on "emotional labor").
Listen, I know that as a white woman that I have privileges. And I will try my best to exercise those privileges in a way that protects my black friends and amplifies their voices. Always.
Antonia | 57 | Prince George’s County, Maryland
I think I was four or five years old, I lived in an area where schools were integrated—and back in my day, this was a big deal. I was paired with a black girl to practice reading, and my mother explained to me that I was probably going to be a white N-word (she said the word, obviously). I didn't understand what that meant, but I knew it was bad...
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
I have a big mouth sometimes, which is great for helping me show my ass on this subject. But ultimately, I'm inspired by the life of Kenyan Nobel [Peace Prize recipient] Laureate Wangari Maathai, who helped bring about political change and environmental restoration by having thousands of small conversations with women. She talked a lot about taking small steps and doing little actions—hers was planting trees.
I try to stay in the background and put black women forward to speak, and I think a lot about how Maathai did her work over 30 years and ended up changing so much for her country.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
A couple years ago, I was working with a group of black teenagers in a summer program, and we were discussing how when doing sustainability outreach, we needed to consider the cultural context of our audience. I made recommendations for best practices but a colleague of mine interrupted to say she didn't feel that black customers being accused of shoplifting was necessarily a “race thing" because similar things happened to her elderly mother.
But one of the young girls in the program was incredible. She talked about how white women could dress up or down and shift how people see us, but that she could never ever take off her skin, so being black was right at the foreground of how people perceived her every time she walked into a business. She was fabulous, but angry. Determined and focused, and she spoke very clearly about how race and the history of violence against black people and communities creates burdens for her that white people can avoid if they want to. It was hard for my skeptical colleague to take in at the moment, but I think it has stayed with her as it has with me and it let me know that even skeptical people are open to letting in the pain of really seeing how racism affects black people.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
This is a new realization over the last few weeks: I've always been the kind of person who has casual conversations with, oh, the guys in line at Home Depot or wherever, and when there is huge public grief and anger about yet another death in police custody, yet another racist policy enacted whatever, I mention it. I sympathize with them and wish that we could do better, and I listen to them talking about their sadness and anger. I don't know if it helps, but I've had some conversations that left me feeling like perhaps we could someday become one people, a unified community. Of course, then I go right back out into the world, so it's an ongoing thing.
It's not much, and I'm always worried that I'm doing it for cookies, so I don't usually talk about it elsewhere. But discussion is one of the things I can do with black and white friends, or colleagues, or even with strangers at Home Depot. Hopefully it helps to carry some of the weight and responsibility for all the events that create traumatic stress for black people in America.
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
I think black women have no obligation to try to understand me whatsoever, because the weight of history is just crushing. I would hope that my black friends understand that that that weight is on me to fix, especially with the ways in which my mother taught me about race, and to see, in a non-cookie-giving way, how hard I have worked to bear those lessons without passing them on to my children or reenacting them in my daily life. I also think that the legacy of slavery and racist violence has left scars on white Americans, and that most white people don't see how that legacy festers and holds them back. I guess I wish black women could understand that, but frankly it's irrational and cruel to expect black women dealing with our current climate of racism to any work into understanding me, or white people generally, so that'll have to wait.
Bridging The Gap
Keep talking. Keep doing the little actions that make your community a bit better, and that improves the lives of children and families. Keep recognizing that white women are often not aware of how race plays into their actions, and finding time for small conversations (including angry ones) that help us get that. And all women need to take care of themselves. The womanist writer, bell hooks, has a great book – Sisters of the Yam – that is all about self-care and has been really helpful for me. We need to take care of ourselves first to be healthy enough to fight on.
Jessica | 27 | Chicago, IL
Photo courtesy of @lynx.imagery
Hindsight is 20/20 when you're looking back on 20 years and your mindset has changed so many times. I remember going to a black classmate's house for a group project around third grade. For whatever reason, it confused me that her family lived in a townhome. It was very odd to me as a child, since every other friend's house I'd been to was an independently-standing house. I don't know if I understood race or saw her race and correlated the difference in homes to her skin color, but somehow I connected those dots. I say this from a tiny Chicago apartment now, too.
But this was one of my first realizations that people can be different...
My Thoughts On The Current State Of The Country
Our country in in shambles right now. Never in our history have we been in the midst of a pandemic when a revolution has started and I know a ton of people are confused about what's going on. Hell, our government doesn't even know what's happening. The Mayor of Chicago has been handling everything fairly professionally though and I feel like she's doing a good job at balancing our quarantine phases with the protests and looting that have been happening this past week.
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
I'm usually a quiet observer, as my friends can clearly testify. I usually prefer to listen instead of debate with someone. But I was also a part of the Occupy movement back in 2011/2012 and it gave me a voice and reminded me that there is power in numbers, and the numbers are angry this time around. The majority of my activism this time, has been from home, however. I'm so proud of the peaceful protests my city has organized, but there's so much work that can be done on our computers and phones. Petitions need to be signed, emails need to be sent to our representatives, and time and money need to be donated to those on the front line of this movement.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
My best friend is black, and she grew up in Topeka, KS, home of the infamous Westboro Baptist Church. Topeka is a predominantly white city, with only about 10% of the population being black. I know things are much different in Kansas from the suburbs of Chicago where I was raised and every time she tells me about something drastic that happened while she was growing up, it shocks me because I was so sheltered in my hometown.
I currently live in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood and she lives about 10 minutes south in an Asian/Lithuanian neighborhood. This week in Chicago we've had looters coming in from out of town, so the gangs in my neighborhood were actually protecting the businesses and homes to prevent damage. Of course the neighbors quickly became a protective barrier against the gangs to the black people who live in the community when I found out that the gangs were attacking people of color for just trying to return to their homes. These are our neighbors and they were being attacked for their skin color by another minority. When I mentioned this to my best friend, she casually said, "Mexicans hate blacks and they tried to burn down my house when I was little."
Clearly, I was shocked at her casually bringing this up and it made me realize that this country isn't just segregated by hatred between white and black, but the hatred can sometimes come from other minorities too.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
I don't think I've ever treated any black person in my life differently (except for my best friend whom I smother with love and guinea pig pictures) and I think treating everyone with the same amount of respect and compassion and sense of human decency is a great way to support black people in our lives. When people around us see these open displays of companionship and camaraderie (especially working in the restaurant industry where we are literally united as a family), I hope it makes them feel less threatened by the differences between and around us.
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
I feel like I'm not even in a position to preach about myself right now, so I'll keep this short: I grew up (unknowingly back then) surrounded by white privilege and attending mostly white schools. But now, black women, I empathize with you and your stories. Please tell them to me. I want to hear them. I am still a woman and I know we've all been treated differently just because of that. But I'm on your side and I stand with you.
Bridging The Gap
I recently read an article by Cynthia Schmidt, a UCF columnist, about bridging the gap. She says "it's virtually inconceivable for white folks to have police called on them for merely existing, and because white people are able to surround themselves in white bubbles, it's like we white people are reading the book of racial history and racial current events, while our black countrymen are watching the film, or harder yet, starring in the film."
So in order for white people to put the "book" down and participate in the history that's acting out in front of us, we need to do research. Our school system has done nothing for our education on Black America.
There are so many books and films and articles to read and watch, and once we have a better grasp on what happened outside of our history textbooks, we can further integrate ourselves into predominantly black communities, but as guests. We can visit their churches and support their restaurants and other businesses. I also agree with Cynthia when she says, "Black folks do not bear the burden of creating the bridge. They cannot, as it is already hard enough to be black in America without having to educate white folks along the way. Merely existing as a black person here is enough work."
Featured image by Shutterstock
Charmin Michelle is a southern native and creative spirit who works as a content marketer and events manager in Chicago. She enjoys traveling, #SummertimeChi, and the journey of mastering womanhood. Connect with her on Instagram @charminmichelle.
Amber Riley has the type of laugh that sticks with you long after the raspy, rhythmic sounds have ceased. It punctuates her sentences sometimes, whether she’s giving a chuckle to denote the serious nature of something she just said or throwing her head back in rip-roarious laughter after a joke. She laughs as if she understands the fragility of each minute. She chooses laughter often with the understanding that future joy is not guaranteed.
Credit: Ally Green
The sound of her laughter is rivaled only by her singing voice, an emblem of the past and the future resilience of Black women stretched over a few octaves. On Fox’s Glee, her character Mercedes Jones was portrayed, perhaps unfairly, as the vocal duel to Rachel Berry (Lea Michele), offering rough, full-throated belts behind her co-star’s smooth, pristine vocals. Riley’s always been more than the singer who could deliver a finishing note, though.
Portraying Effie White, she displayed the dynamic emotions of a song such as “And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going” in Dreamgirls on London’s West End without buckling under the historic weight of her predecessors. With her instrument, John Mayer’s “Gravity” became a religious experience, a belted hymnal full of growls and churchy riffs. In her voice, Nicole Scherzinger once said she heard “the power of God.”
Credit: Ally Green
Riley’s voice has been a staple throughout pop culture for nearly 15 years now. Her tone has become so distinguishable that most viewers of Fox’s The Masked Singer recognized the multihyphenate even before it was revealed that she was Harp, the competition-winning, gold-masked figure with an actual harp strapped to her back.
Still, it wasn’t until recently that Riley began to feel like she’d found her voice. This sounds unbelievable. But she’s not referring to the one she uses on stage. She’s referencing the voice that speaks to who she is at her core. “Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind,” the 37-year-old says. “It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women. I got so comfortable in [doing so], and I really want other people, especially Black women, to get more comfortable in that space.”
“Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind. It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women."
If you ask Riley’s manager, Myisha Brooks, she’ll tell you the foundation of who the multihyphenate is hasn’t changed much since she was a kid growing up in Compton. “She is who she is from when I met her back when she was singing in the front of the church to back when she landed major roles in film and TV,” Brooks says. Time has allowed Riley to grow more comfortable, giving fans a more intimate glimpse into her life, including her mental health journey and the ins and outs of show business.
The actress/singer has been in therapy since 2019, although she suffered from depression and anxiety way before that. In a recent interview with Jason Lee, she recalls having suicidal ideation as a kid. By the time she started seeing a psychologist and taking antidepressants in her thirties, her body had become jittery, a physical reminder of the trauma stacked high inside her. “I was shaking in [my therapist’s] office,” she tells xoNecole. “My fight or flight was on such a high level. I was constantly in survival mode. My heart was beating fast all the time. All I did was sweat.”
There wasn’t just childhood trauma to account for. After auditioning for American Idol and being turned away by producers, Riley began working for Ikea and nearly missed her Glee audition because her car broke down on the highway while en route. Thankfully, Riley had been cast to play Mercedes Jones. American Idol had temporarily convinced her she wasn’t cut out for the entertainment industry, but this was validation that she was right where she belonged. Glee launched in 2009 with the promise of becoming Riley’s big break.
In some ways, it was. The show introduced Riley to millions of fans and catapulted her into major Hollywood circles. But in other ways, it became a reminder of the types of roles Black women, especially those who are plus-sized, are relegated to. Behind the scenes, Riley says she fought for her character "to have a voice" but eventually realized her efforts were useless. "It finally got to a point where I was like, this is not my moment. I'm not who they're choosing, and this is just going to have to be a job for me for now," she says. "And, that's okay because it pays my bills, I still get to be on television, I'm doing more than any other Black plus-sized women that I'm seeing right now on screen."
The actress can recognize now that she was navigating issues associated with trauma and low self-esteem at the time. She now knows that she's long had anxiety and depression and can recognize the ways in which she was triggered by how the cult-like following of the show conflicted with her individual, isolated experiences behind the scenes. But she was in her early '20s back then. She didn't yet have the language or the tools to process how she was feeling.
Riley says she eventually sought out medical intervention. "When you're in Hollywood, and you go to a doctor, they give you pills," she says, sharing a part of her story that she'd never revealed publicly before now. "[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that's not fixing my problem. If anything, it's making it worse."
“[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that’s not fixing my problem. If anything it’s making it worse.”
Credit: Ally Green
At one point, while in her dressing room on set, she rested her arm on a curling iron without realizing it. It wasn't until her makeup artist alerted her that she even realized her skin was burning. Once she noticed, she says she was "so zonked out on pills" that she barely reacted. Speaking today, she holds up her arm and motions towards a scar that remains from the incident. She sought help for her reliance on the pills, but it would still be years before she finally attended therapy.
This stress was only compounded by the trauma of growing up in poverty and the realities of being a "contract worker." "Imagine going from literally one week having to borrow a car to get to set to the next week being on a private jet to New York City," she says. After Glee ended, so did the rides on private planes. The fury of opportunities she expected to follow her appearance on the show failed to materialize. She wasn't even 30 yet, and she was already forced to consider if she'd hit her career peak.
. . .
We’re only four minutes into our Zoom call before Riley delivers her new adage to me. “My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway,” she says.
On this Thursday afternoon in April, the LA-based entertainer is seated inside her closet/dressing room wearing a cerulean blue tank top with matching shorts and eating hot wings. This current phase of healing hinges on balance. It’s about having discipline and consistency, but not at the risk of inflexibility. She was planning to head to the gym, for instance, but she’s still tired from the “exhausting” day before. Instead, she’s spent her day receiving a massage, eating some chicken wings, and planning to spend quality time with friends. “I’m not going to beat myself up for it. I’m not going to talk down to myself. I’m going to eat my chicken wings, and then tomorrow I’m [back] in the gym,” she says.
“My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway."
This is the balance with which she's been approaching much of her life these days. It's why she's worried less about whether or not people see her as someone who is humble. She'd rather be respected. "I think you should be a person that's easy to work with, but in the moments where I have to ruffle feathers and make waves, I'm not shying away from that anymore. You can do it in love, you don't have to be nasty about it, but I had to finally be comfortable with the fact that setting boundaries around my life – in whatever aspect, whether that's personal or business – people are not going to like it. Some people are not going to have nice things to say about you, and you gotta be okay with it," she says.
When Amber talks about the constant humbling of Black women in Hollywood, I think of the entertainers before her who have suffered from this. The brilliant, consistent, overqualified Black women who have spoken of having to fight for opportunities and fair pay. Aretha Franklin. Viola Davis. Tracee Ellis Ross. There's a long list of stars whose success hasn't mirrored their experiences behind the scenes.
Credit: Ally Green
If Black women outside of Hollywood are struggling to decrease the pay gap, so, too, are their wealthier, more famous peers.
Riley says there’s been progress in recent years, but only in small ways and for a limited group of people. “This business is exhausting. The goalpost is constantly moving, and sometimes it’s unfair,” she says. But, I have to say it’s the love that keeps you going.”
“There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman,” she continues. “We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
"There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman. We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
Last year, Riley starred alongside Raven Goodwin in the Lifetime thriller Single Black Female (a modern, diversified take on 1992’s Single White Female). It was more than a leading role for the actress, it also served as proof that someone who looks like her can front a successful project without it hinging on her identity. It showcased that the characters she portrays don’t “have to be about being a big girl. It can just be a regular story.”
Riley sees her work in music as an extension of her efforts to push past the rigid stereotypes in entertainment. Take her appearance on The Masked Singer, for instance. Riley said she decided to perform Mayer’s “Gravity” after being told she couldn’t sing it years earlier. “I wanted to do ‘Gravity’ on Glee. [I] was told no, because that’s not a song that Mercedes would do,” she says. “That was a full circle moment for me, doing that on that show and to hear what it is they had to say.”
As Scherzinger praised the “anointed” performance, a masked Riley began to cry, her chest heaving as she stood on stage, her eyes shielded from view. “You have to understand, I have really big names – casting directors, producers, show creators – that constantly tell me ‘I’m such a big fan. Your talent is unmatched.’ Hire me, then,” she says, reflecting on the moment.
Recently, she’s been in the studio working on original music, the follow-up to her independently-released debut EP, 2020’s Riley. The sequel to songs such as the anthemic “Big Girl Energy” and the reflective ballad “A Moment” on Riley, this new project hones in on the singer’s R&B roots with sensual grooves such as the tentatively titled “All Night.” “You said I wasn’t shit, turns out that I’m the shit. Then you called me a bitch, turns out that I’m that bitch. You said no one would want me, well you should call your homies,” she sings on the tentatively titled “Lately,” a cut about reflecting on a past relationship. From the forthcoming project, xoNecole received five potential tracks. Fans likely already know the strengths and contours of Riley’s vocals, but these new songs are her strongest, most confident offerings as an artist.
“I am so much more comfortable as a writer, and I know who I am as an artist now. I’m evolving as a human being, in general, so I’m way more vulnerable in my music. I’m way more willing to talk about whatever is on my mind. I don’t stop myself from saying what it is I want to say,” she says.
Credit: Ally Green
“Every era and alliteration of Amber, the baseline is ‘Big Girl Energy.’ That’s the name of her company,” her manager Brooks says, referencing the imprint through which Riley releases her music after getting out of a label deal several years ago. “It’s just what she stands for. She’s not just talking about size, it’s in all things. Whether it’s putting your big girl pants on and having to face a boardroom full of executives or sell yourself in front of a casting agent. It’s her trying to achieve the things she wants to do in life.”
Riley says she has big dreams beyond releasing this new music, too. She’d love to star in a rom-com with Winston Duke. She hasn't starred in a biopic yet, but she’d revel in the opportunity to portray Rosetta Tharpe on screen. She’s determined that her previous setbacks won’t stop her from dreaming big.
“I think one of my superpowers is resilience because, at the end of the day, I’m going to kick, scream, cry, cuss, be mad and disappointed, but I’m going to get up and risk having to deal with it all again. It’s worth it for the happy moments,” she says.
If Riley seems more comfortable and confident professionally, it’s because of the work she’s been doing in her personal life.
She’d previously spoken to xoNecole about becoming engaged to a man she discovered in a post on the site, but she called things off last year. For Valentine’s Day, she revealed her new boyfriend publicly. “I decided to post him on Valentine’s Day, partially because I was in the dog house. I got in trouble with him,” she says, half-joking before turning serious. “The breakup was never going to stop me from finding love. Or at least trying. I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness, and you enjoy it and work through it.”
Credit: Ally Green
"I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness and you enjoy it and work through it.”
With her ex, Riley was pretty outspoken about her relationship, even appearing in content for Netflix with him. This time around is different. She’s not hiding her boyfriend of eight months, but she’s more protective of him, especially because he’s a father and isn’t interested in becoming a public figure.
She’s traveling more, too. It’s a deliberate effort on her part to enjoy her money and reject the trauma she’s developed after experiencing poverty in her childhood. “I live in constant fear of being broke. I don’t think you ever don’t remember that trauma or move past that. Now I travel and I’m like, listen, if it goes, it goes. I’m not saying [to] be reckless, but I deserve to enjoy my hard work.”
After everything she’s been through, she certainly deserves to finally let loose a bit. “I have to have a life to live,” she says. “I’ve got to have a life worth fighting for.”
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This 5-Minute Workout Can Help You Build Muscle Strength & Endurance
EMOM is short for "every minute on the minute." This form of exercise is quick and efficient; it will get your heart rate elevated fast while simultaneously building muscle strength and endurance. To start an EMOM, you select an exercise and choose the allotted number of reps you'd like to perform within the minute. The goal is to finish as quickly as possible, with the correct form, so you can get a longer break between sets.
In the 5-minute EMOM below, you'll complete the designated number of reps for each exercise listed without a break in between, and once you're finished, you'll rest until the next minute begins. At the top of the next minute, you'll repeat all the exercises again and rest until the following minute beings. Your goal is to complete this cycle for a total of 5 times.
A friendly tip before you begin is to make sure you have at least 20 seconds of rest between each set. Also, note if you're finishing with more than 30 seconds on your time. If so, add two additional reps to each exercise. (i.e., 4-inchworms would become 6-inchworms, etc.)
The goal of an EMOM is to challenge yourself and work towards simultaneously developing cardiovascular endurance, as well as muscle strength and endurance.
Exercise 1: Inchworms
Final Notes:
Try to have at least 20 seconds of rest between sets and if you're getting more than 30 seconds of rest add more reps equally by twos to each exercise.
Repeat this EMOM 5 times for a focused warm-up, workout finisher, or when you're low on time and simply need to get your body moving.
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Featured image by Alvaro Medina Jurado/Getty Images