A Big-Sister Truth for Every Season of Your Life

There is a phrase that has been passed down through kitchens, porches, and living rooms for generations in Black families — a phrase usually wrapped in love, side-eye, and that “don’t play with me” wisdom our grandmothers seemed to carry like a superpower.

“Closed mouths don’t get fed.”

If you are African-American, you already feel that in your spirit. You probably heard it right after your grandmother handed you a plate or right before she told you to go back in that room and speak up for yourself. If you are not Black, let me help you: this is not about food. This is about life and about knowing your worth, about refusing to shrink, about opening your mouth to claim what belongs to you.

Let me tell you… grown-folk life has a way of testing that phrase in the deep end.

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When Silence Becomes Starvation

Here is the truth: Life will let you starve in silence if you let it.

Opportunities are not always served like Sunday dinner. Sometimes you have to reach, ask, apply, tell people what you bring to the table, and sometimes even pull up a chair when no one thought to set one for you.

Closed mouths settle.
Closed mouths swallow their brilliance.
Closed mouths tell themselves “it’s okay” when it is absolutely not okay.

Then, we wonder why we feel overlooked, undervalued, or stuck.
Baby… you cannot get whole off crumbs no matter how long you sit there with your hands folded nicely in your lap.

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Speaking Up Does Not Make You Difficult. It Makes You Visible.

I know—we were raised to be humble, polite, grateful, and all those things that make us pleasant in a room. But humility does not mean invisibility. Politeness does not mean silence. Gratitude does not mean accepting less than what is fair.

Your voice is your advocate.
Your needs matter.
Your boundaries matter.
Your dreams need air to breathe, not duct tape across their mouths.

When you ask for the promotion…
When you say what you need in a relationship…
When you tell your friends, “I’m not okay”…
When you pitch the business idea…
When you stand up for what is right…

You are feeding your future.

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The Mothers and Grandmothers Knew Something

Our elders were not just talking about speaking up — they were talking about survival.

In African-American culture, silence used to be a form of protection. However, as society shifted, so did the meaning. Silence became a barrier. A blockage. A way for our gifts to get buried under everybody else’s comfort.

Grandmothers knew we needed a new kind of strength— one that did not come from quietly enduring, but from boldly declaring.

“Closed mouths don’t get fed” was our first introduction to self-advocacy. It was our first lesson in courage. It was our first permission slip to open our mouths and take up space. And hear me: that wisdom holds up in every culture. Every person, everywhere, eventually learns the pain of staying quiet too long.

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Here Is Your Gentle Push (or Not-So-Gentle, Depending on the Day)

Let me talk to you like your big sister for a minute.

You deserve to be heard.
You deserve to be considered.
You deserve to be chosen—and not just when it is convenient for other people.

But none of that happens with a zipped-up mouth and a nodding head.

So today…
Ask for what you want.
Speak up for what you need.
Raise the concern.
Share the idea.
Set the boundary.
Say the uncomfortable thing that brings peace later.
Take the chance that scares you.
Apply for the job you think you might not get.
Tell the world who you are — before it tries to label you as something else.

Because you know what happens when you keep your mouth closed? Nothing. You deserve more than nothing.

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Your Voice Is Your Spoon — Use It.

Every time you speak up, you feed your confidence.
Every time you advocate for yourself, you nourish your future.
Every time you open your mouth with intention, you shift your direction.

Your blessings are not hiding from you. Many of them are simply waiting for you to ask. So go ahead — open your mouth. Because closed mouths? They do not get fed.

You, my friend, deserve a full plate.

Speaking out loud,

Coach Erika