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Thank you for DIVING deeper
FINDING MY VOICE
A Journey To Self Discovery
Mental Health
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I'm Not OK
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Dear Beautiful Black Boy
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Black Existentialism in Pain
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Black Men Need Therapy
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"Things I Tell Myself About My Skin"
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Wait in the Water
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Expanding My Consciousness
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My Channel
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Growing it up in America as a black man, (even with the privileges that it comes with) has been a traumatizing experiencing on my mind to say the least. There is a perception of us, that forces us to accept a behavioral attitude and posture of false humility and servitude among our other human peers otherwise we are forced to see ourselves as villains. Always the robber never the cop. Forever the demon, never the angel.
I noticed this at a very young age and was taught by my family and the community around me to diminish myself in order to avoid being unfairly treated, enticing incarceration or worse... killed. I was told to lay low and to slide by. To curb my ambition, to bow my head and to avoid eye contact. To not speak unless spoken too, and even then to speak softly and timidly. Before I could find my own pace, I built a persona that fit the norm of this country. One which pushed me into a corner of complete silence.
I became a concoction of canned speech and euphemisms to turn all attention away from me, just to keep myself safe. To never be seen as angry or intimidating, never too cocky or arrogant. For decades my emotions remained completely stifled in my body and I became trapped inside my head.
It isn't the easiest thing to describe but I felt like a bird with its wings clipped, forever grounded, underneath a 24 hour pitch black cloud, unable to see the sun. I didn't know who to be.
This was in exact opposition to the truth of my nature. I am a born dreamer, a shapeshifter, a multidimensional expressionist, a powerful speaker and a vibrant leader. I don't believe myself to be above anyone (quite the opposite actually) but the inability to express to myself, due to the negative self image passed down to me, burdened me with an immense amount of pain and self doubt.
This kind of dual experience, one where we live both within and without, conscious of both the spirit we believe ourselves to be vs the persona we have to maintain on the outside, is what I believe to be the cause of a lot of mental illnesses in my community. And something other people can relate too as well.
I don't believe we live in that world anymore. One where black men need to suffer in agonizing silence. And the fear of persecution that has silo'd our spirits into our minds is a self harm that I don't think is necessary any longer. We influence the culture around us, with our very essence. Silent or not. We are more than just muses to this nation and we may be required to lead it as well. There is only one way to find out.
I strongly believe that it hurts the world around us to remain silent; not to contribute what is in our minds, our hearts and our bodies. To avoid steering the ship that our culture has been consistently building, while letting others tell our stories for us. And so I'd like add my story to the imagery of us that we all consistently ingest.
I do not speak for all black people, because I am NOT all black people, but this journey of self discovery has been my tiny revolution. My way of bottling the years of introspection and internal work it took me to unlearn the demeanor of a slave and embody the spirit of a King and sharing it as the antidote. The first step in breaking a generational curse.
It is a viewpoint of dealing with racial trauma, embracing extremely singular self love, healing, self improvement and black positivity.
A meta commentary on capitalism, social media, spirituality, celebrity and mental health. One that I hope others like me, can use for their internal healing as well.
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