Dear Teyana,
Some wins hit different when you know how long the world took to admit what you’ve been proving.
So let me start here: congratulations.
Not the kind of congratulations that sounds like a polite clap from the sidelines. The kind that feels like a deep exhale after years of being watched, studied, mimicked, and underestimated. The kind that says: we saw you the whole time. We just needed the industry to catch up.
Because you’ve never been “new.” You’ve been next. You’ve been now. You’ve been the blueprint in motion, even when the credit didn’t come attached.
You’re one of those rare creatives who doesn’t just have talent–you have range. Not the performative kind people toss around when they don’t know how else to describe a Black woman’s brilliance. Real range. The kind that looks like dancing, directing, acting, training, choreographing, writing, shaping visions, executing concepts, and still walking into rooms like you weren’t carrying an entire legacy on your back.
Even though the world is celebrating you on a major awards stage right now, the truth is you’ve been doing award-worthy work long before they decided to call your name. This recognition is simply the room catching up.
RELATED CONTENT: “Brandy, A Love Letter — To The Woman Who Chose Herself, Even When The World Wanted A Show”
Your Rise Was Never the Usual Route, And That’s The Point
Your story has always been unconventional. It didn’t come wrapped in industry ease or predictable PR packaging.
You came up through movement. Through rhythm. Through the kind of creative instinct you can’t teach. The kind that has you making your mark behind the scenes before people even know they’re witnessing history.
Your start says everything: choreography ties to Beyoncé, getting signed by Pharrell, then showing up in a moment so many people still reference in pop culture today. That kind of rise doesn’t happen by accident. That happens when somebody is undeniable.
That’s what’s so powerful about you, Teyana. You’ve never waited for permission to be iconic. You just kept creating.
It’s not just your talent that’s been undeniable. It’s your spirit.
Harlem made you. Not just the grit, not just the style, not just the edge but the confidence, the honesty, and the way you know how to keep going while the whole world is watching. You’ve always carried yourself like someone who understands that legacy isn’t just what you build creatively, it’s how you move through life.
Even when your personal world became public, you didn’t perform pain for sympathy. You showed people what it looks like to navigate change with grace, to prioritize peace, and to still show up as yourself without letting the hardest chapters harden you.
Now, seeing you step into a new era, one that feels lighter, freer, and full of joy has been its own kind of glow up to witness. Beyond the headlines, there’s someone simpler and sweeter: a woman who has done the work, survived the noise, and is letting herself be herself in public without having to explain it.
When You Spoke Up, It Wasn’t Quitting It Was Clarity
You’ve always been honest about the cost of being exceptional. In 2020, you spoke openly about stepping away from music after feeling underappreciated and frustrated with how your work was being handled, choosing your emotional well being and your children over forcing yourself to keep feeding a machine that wasn’t feeding you back.
That decision wasn’t a disappearance. It was a boundary. In an industry that often expects Black women to keep producing no matter the personal toll, that kind of clarity is its own form of power.
You never stopped being creative. You never stopped being visionary. You just refused to keep offering your magic to spaces that weren’t honoring it properly.
They’ll Always Talk But The Work Still Stands
Of course, even in celebration, there has to be noise.
Even in this moment, some critics are trying to turn your achievement into a debate about what Black women “have” to do in order to be awarded, praised, or acknowledged. They’re trying to flatten your performance into a conversation about sexuality, as if Black women can only be seen as powerful when we’re also being consumed.
But we’re not doing that today.
Because your win is not a symbol. It’s not a trend. It’s not a storyline someone else gets to control.
It’s earned.
Honestly, the idea that Black women only get recognized when we are reduced to an image doesn’t even hold up when you look at the history of award recognition itself. Black actresses have been honored for range, depth, grief, power, softness, and storytelling that had nothing to do with being a sexual item. The problem has never been whether Black women are capable of winning. The problem has always been the inconsistency in how often we are allowed to.
This is why your moment matters even more. Because in rooms like that, you can feel the math. You can see how few of us are even being nominated or centered in the first place. This year, you weren’t just a winner. You were one of the few Black people recognized in that space at all, which makes the victory land heavier and shine brighter. #OTWtotheOscars !
RELATED CONTENT: “For The Women Who Are Never Allowed to Fall Apart: A Love Letter”
Yes, people will always have critiques. Some will try to generalize what it means when Black women win big, and others will attempt to make your character’s presentation the headline instead of your craft. But reducing a Black woman’s performance to how her body was perceived misses the entire point of acting. It ignores the discipline, the choices, the character work, the emotional range, and the risk it takes to step into a role and make it believable.
Even beyond the critics, the conversation around awards is layered. The Golden Globes often recognize Black talent more frequently than some ceremonies, especially when it comes to television. But that doesn’t lessen the weight of your win. It adds context. It reminds us that certain spaces have historically been more willing to applaud us in certain categories while still making it harder for Black women to fully dominate across the board.
That’s why this moment should not be dismissed as a headline or a trend. It should be understood as momentum. Because a Golden Globe win is not just a trophy. It’s also a signal in award season culture. It often places a performer in the conversation in a bigger way. It tells the industry to keep watching. It hints that this might be the start of an even larger run of recognition for your craft.
As Charlamagne Tha God stated in a recent Breakfast Club conversation, there are many Black women who have won awards of this caliber without being sexualized at all. The point isn’t whether a character is sensual or not. The point is that Black women deserve to be fully expressed on screen without people using it as a reason to dismiss our talent.
You don’t need controversy to make your win real. You don’t need anyone’s discomfort to validate your skill.
Today, We’re Celebrating You Loudly
So let them argue. Let them overanalyze. Let them try to make your moment into a debate.
We’re keeping it simple.
Congratulations, Teyana Taylor.
For the years of work people didn’t label properly. For the creativity that didn’t get credited loud enough. For the effort you put in when the cameras weren’t rolling. For the way you kept showing up as a mother and an individual, fully creative in a world that’s more comfortable when Black women stay in one box.
For the way you used your moment with intention. You didn’t just accept the award and move on. You spoke directly to little brown girls. You made sure they heard you. You made sure they knew that even if the room doesn’t look like them, they belong in it. Even if people try to make them feel like they are visiting instead of arriving, they still have a future in those spaces. They just have to keep believing in themselves and keep reaching.
That is what made this bigger than a win. That is what made this a message.
This is your flower. This is your moment. This is your win.
And it’s well deserved.
With love, pride, and loud Black applause.
RELATED CONTENT: A Love Letter to Jess Hilarious And To Every Black Woman Wrestling With This Conversation
