Bloom How You Must: A Black Woman’s Guide to Self-Care and Generational Healing

(On sale December 2, 2025)

In Bloom How You Must (Amistad/HarperCollins), Tara Pringle Jefferson presents a multigenerational look at Black women's wellness, offering readers a prescriptive path to healing. Jefferson delves into seven facets of holistic wellness -- physical, social, professional, spiritual, emotional, mental and creative-- to encourage readers to think deeply about the "seeds" of their wellness practices. Who did they learn from? What sustains them when life starts lifing? A mix of deep research, personal stories and interviews with more than 100 Black women, Bloom How You Must is an instruction manual for Black women to claim and shape new generational legacies around healing, wellness and self-care.

The Women Who Taught Me

Tara Pringle Jefferson and her mother Marilyn Pringle circa 1986

Inevitably, one attendee will say that no one taught her. “I can’t think of a single example,” she’ll say. “They were really horrible at taking care of themselves. All they did was work and then come home to take care of us.”

I insist that, too, is a lesson. Sometimes that self-care legacy is less of a roar and more of a whisper, a reminder that a life dedicated solely to the pursuit of happiness was not on the table for many of our foremothers.

Interrogating that blueprint you were handed is the first step to making it your own.

As you start, you might realize that you have not personally witnessed your mother or grandmother or aunts prioritize themselves in any way that is recognizable. You may have witnessed them wake before the sun, prepare meals that everybody requested and enjoyed, clean the house, work that job and encourage you to do the same, whether spoken or unspoken.

And if that’s your legacy, and it’s wearing you thin, it’s all the more reason for you to take the lead and begin a new one for your lineage.

 

In The Self Care Suite, we host small, intimate gatherings to discuss everything from pleasure to creativity to relationships. No matter the topic, I always begin each event the same way, asking attendees, “Who taught you how to take care of yourself, for better or worse?”

We start with those “seeds” of their own lived reality — what did they witness among the adults in their lives? What lessons, both spoken and unspoken, seeped through to their subconsciousness?

Sometimes they’d tell a story about their grandmother or an aunt. Nine times out of ten, their self-care legacy always comes back to a maternal figure. That relationship (or lack thereof) informs how well they take care of themselves today.

Mom, 1986

Grandma Louise, 1988

Grandma
Marietta,
1989