Gentle Money and the Legacy of Dreams

Last night, I immersed myself in all four episodes of the Netflix miniseries Self Made. Though I couldn’t remember if I had watched the entirety of it before, the story of Madam CJ Walker had always inspired me. Growing up as a Black woman in the projects during the 1980s, I often struggled with the weight of poverty, racism, and classism. Yet, seeing the remarkable journey of a woman born in Louisiana just two years after slavery ended – a woman who overcame staggering odds to become the first self-made female millionaire – left me in awe. Her story felt personal. I saw a reflection of myself in her: another Black woman, separated by more than a century, daring to dream big in a world that often feels unwelcoming – a world that, in too many ways, mirrors my own. It led me to wonder what it means to pursue success and wealth in a way that’s soul-aligned, especially as a visionary woman of color. 

Madam CJ Walker was the daughter of slaves and was orphaned at a young age. She grew up in poverty, had technology or connections, and yet, she rose. She was bold enough to want to be the face of her brand even when everyone around her told her that she didn’t have the look. She dared to own a factory during a time she could barely put food on the table. Her husband often told her to stop having such big ideas and to work at a hotel doing laundry, but she would not be deterred. The miniseries showed her meeting with a mortician to discuss investing in her factory and the mortician trying to rape her. She tried to meet with Booker T Washington, who told her that Black women needed to learn their place.

I couldn’t help but think of the parallels: How she was persecuted by Black men and doubted by her own, and how this still rings true today, It makes me think of all the headlines we’ve been seeing today of Black women speaking out about the violence they’ve suffered at the hands of Black men; of how both Black men and Black women are responding with such venom and anger towards women who are simply looking for autonomy and safety within their own bodies. It made me remember that sixteen year old girl who was told to get a real job and that twenty eight year old who was told that a responsible woman who wanted to survive would be satisfied with working a job she had no interest in – no matter how abusive that job would be with her, even at the threat of having a miscarriage.

Throughout the series, Madam CJ Walker often quoted Rockefeller, up until she ended up being one of his neighbors. This made me look around at the stacks of books that I have, the courses I’ve taken, and the interviews I’ve listened to. It made me remember the times I quoted Napoleon Hill, Oprah Winfrey, Abraham Hicks and so many more. She affirmed herself to be a millionaire even when everyone was telling her to do laundry for a living.  

She never stopped believing and because of this, she achieved everything she said she’d do. She went from begging to work with Booker T Washington to being respected by WEB DuBois. Even in sickness, she was focused on legacy and making sure that her name lived on. She did everything that she intended to do. 

It made me think of what I want for myself. What am I affirming to be true for me? I’ve spent years trying to mold myself into what society says is acceptable and normal, but my spirit has violently rejected these narratives. Hustle culture is not for me. I wasn’t born with the look of an IG model, nor do I want to buy it. What I truly want for myself is gentle money that feels good and in alignment with me, divine timing, soulful success, and radically unconditional self-love. But this realization then makes me wonder, does choosing ease mean that I won’t succeed? Or does it mean that I’m making room for a more graceful kind of power? 

My soul craves fulfilment, meaning, and feeling good in my body instead of the constant and seemingly never-ending burnout. I am claiming a new model for myself: 

I don’t have to fight for visibility. My light is magnetic. 

I don’t hustle. I attract. 

My legacy is sacred, and it will not require my suffering. 

Madam CJ Walker reminds me that bold vision and softness can co-exist. Her empire was built on the softness and beauty of Black women. She wanted to own a factory and become a millionaire. I want financial freedom built from my creativity. She didn’t let limitations define her – and neither will I. 

I can be rich, impactful, and my whole self – soft, powerful, creative and divine. May we all become self-made in the most soul-led way possible.