Narrator: Imagine escaping to a picturesque, medieval city on the Adriatic coast, a place made famous as the capital in Game of Thrones. For actress Gabrielle Union and her friends—a group of Black, brown, and gay individuals—a trip to Dubrovnik, Croatia, was meant to be a joyful respite from the racial and social tensions of America. But that illusion was shattered one night in a local bar. The group was confronted by men with swastika tattoos who made menacing gestures, forcing them to flee through the cobblestone streets in terror. This harrowing experience revealed a stark truth: racism and bigotry are not confined by borders. This global reality, and the personal strength required to navigate it, lies at the heart of Gabrielle Union’s unflinching memoir, You Got Anything Stronger?. The book is a raw and intimate exploration of a life lived in the public eye, moving beyond surface-level celebrity to confront the painful and complex truths of infertility, trauma, family, and the fight for self-worth in a world that often demands compromise.

Narrator: For years, Gabrielle Union endured a private and painful battle with infertility. She underwent numerous rounds of IVF treatments and suffered multiple miscarriages, all while grappling with the societal pressure and personal desire to experience pregnancy. The journey was a lesson in the limits of control. Despite consulting with top doctors, a crucial diagnosis was repeatedly missed. It wasn't until she met Dr. Kelly Baek, a no-nonsense reproductive endocrinologist, that she finally got an answer. During an ultrasound, Dr. Baek immediately identified the problem: adenomyosis, a condition where uterine tissue grows into the muscular wall of the uterus, which had likely been the cause of her struggles for years.

The diagnosis was both a relief and a source of grief, as it meant her previous treatments were destined to fail. Dr. Baek’s recommendation was clear: surrogacy offered the best chance for a healthy baby. For Union, this suggestion felt like an admission of failure. She wrestled with complex emotions, including jealousy of the public reverence given to pregnant women and a deep-seated feeling of inadequacy, compounded by the fact that her husband, Dwyane Wade, had previously fathered a child with another woman. The decision to pursue surrogacy forced her to confront these feelings and relinquish the control she had fought so hard to maintain. It was a journey of surrender that ultimately led her to find a connection with her surrogate, Natalie, and to the birth of her daughter, Kaavia James, teaching her that motherhood is not defined by biology but by love and acceptance.

Narrator: Early in her life and career, Union viewed vulnerability as a weakness, a "Kryptonite" to be hidden at all costs. However, a consultation with a shaman offered a transformative perspective: "You look at vulnerability as your Kryptonite, and you need to think of it as your superpower." This advice became a guiding principle, challenging her to embrace emotional openness as a source of strength and connection. This shift had a profound impact on her family, particularly in her relationship with her stepdaughter, Zaya.

For a long time, Union had maintained an emotional distance from her stepchildren, defining her role as "not the mom" to avoid overstepping. But one day, she noticed Zaya was hurting and withdrawn. With her husband away, Union realized the invisible "fence" she had built was preventing her from offering the support Zaya needed. In a moment of profound vulnerability, she sat with Zaya and admitted her mistake. "I’m not gonna wait any longer," she told her. "With your permission, I’m gonna storm through the fence. I’m gonna be the Nickie that you need. And while I’m not your mother, I can mother you well." This admission broke down the barrier between them, allowing Zaya to open up about her feelings. This experience taught Union that true strength isn't about building walls, but about having the courage to tear them down, leading to deeper, more authentic relationships.

Narrator: The summer she was nineteen, Gabrielle Union was raped at gunpoint while working at a Payless shoe store. The traumatic event shattered her worldview, particularly the belief she had internalized growing up in a predominantly white, affluent community: that if she was a "good Black person," she would be safe. The rape exposed this as a dangerous illusion, revealing that respectability is no shield against violence and racism. In the aftermath, she retreated into herself, but found an unlikely lifeline in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.

Watching the unapologetic Black excellence of the Dream Team and the incredible resilience of track star Gail Devers, who had overcome a debilitating illness to win gold, provided a flicker of hope. These athletes represented a path from victim to survivor, inspiring her to believe in the possibility of her own recovery. However, she also internalized a damaging message: that to be worthy of respect and safety, she had to be "great." It took her years to unlearn this and understand a more profound truth. As she later reflected, "I am free and deserving simply because I exist. I don’t have to do all these other things to be worthy of respect and safety. Greatness is not required." This realization was a crucial step in integrating her past trauma and accepting her inherent worth.

Narrator: Union’s marriage to a man nearly a decade her junior placed her directly in the crosshairs of societal judgment. She observes that relationships with older women are often viewed with skepticism, governed by an unspoken "contract" that places the burden of the relationship's potential failure squarely on the woman. If the younger man leaves, the world’s reaction is often a dismissive, "What did you expect?" This narrative absolves the man of accountability and blames the woman for the audacity of aging.

Union powerfully rejects this contract. She recounts a story of a friend whose younger husband left her, and the friend felt pressured to appear calm and understanding, as if she had no right to be hurt or angry. Union argues that this is a deeply unfair double standard. She proposes a new contract, one where friends and family witness a couple’s love and offer equal support and protection to both partners, regardless of the outcome. It’s a call for relationships to be judged on their own terms, free from the weight of ageist and sexist expectations, and for women to be allowed the full spectrum of their emotions without being told they should have known better.

Narrator: Two decades after its release, the film Bring It On remains a cultural touchstone, but for Gabrielle Union, her role as Isis, the captain of the East Compton Clovers, is a source of regret. In a letter to the character, she apologizes for compromising Isis’s anger and strength to make her more palatable to a white audience. During the iconic confrontation scene where the Clovers face the team that stole their cheers, Union recalls deliberately softening Isis’s response. Instead of demanding full accountability for the cultural theft, she had Isis take the high road, believing at the time that this "class" and grace would make the character—and by extension, Black girls—seem more "worthy" of success.

This choice was influenced by her own fear of reinforcing negative stereotypes and the immense pressure she felt as a Black woman in Hollywood. She now sees this as a failure to allow Isis her righteous anger and her full, unapologetic humanity. She failed to let Isis be the hero of her own story without compromise. This reflection is a powerful critique of the impossible standards placed on Black characters and creators, who are often forced to navigate a system that rewards respectability over authenticity. Her apology to Isis is also a promise to her daughters, Kaavia and Zaya: to raise them to be their full selves, without the need to shrink or soften for anyone.

Narrator: The terrifying encounter with neo-Nazis in Croatia was a brutal reminder that anti-Blackness is a global phenomenon. But Union argues that this violence is not just physical; it is also psychological and systemic, perpetuated daily through media and culture. She fiercely critiques the modern-day equivalents of historical oppression, from blackface and "blackfishing"—where non-Black individuals adopt Black features for profit and social currency—to the relentless circulation of videos depicting Black trauma.

She argues that the constant stream of images showing Black people being brutalized and killed is a form of "modern-day lynching," which desensitizes society to Black suffering and reinforces the idea that Black lives are disposable. The media's demand for this footage, she notes, turns Black pain into clickbait. Union calls for a radical shift in standards and practices, demanding real accountability. It is no longer enough to issue apologies after the fact. She insists on a world where people fear the consequences of committing racist acts more than they fear being called a racist, a world where the systems that profit from Black pain are finally dismantled.

Narrator: Ultimately, You Got Anything Stronger? is a testament to the power of radical self-awareness and grace. Gabrielle Union’s journey reveals that true strength is not found in maintaining a flawless facade or achieving an impossible "balance," but in the messy, painful, and liberating work of embracing one's own truth. By sharing her stories of failure, trauma, and triumph, she dismantles the myth of perfection and invites us to find community in our shared vulnerability.

The book's most challenging idea is its call to action: to move beyond individual success and use whatever privilege we have to create a more just world. It asks us to look at our own lives and question, "What's your worth versus what you take? And why?" It is a powerful reminder that our greatest purpose may not be to secure our own comfort, but to ensure that the people coming after us have a safer, more equitable path to walk.