Author: Da’Trevion A. Moss, LSW 

I’ve been thinking a lot about how difficult it can still be for many people in BIPOC communities to talk openly about mental health. As a Black male therapist, one of the things I hear often is, “I’ve never told anyone this before.” That sentence carries a lot of weight because it represents how many people have spent years holding in emotions, experiences, and pain that they never felt safe enough to share. For many of us, especially those who grew up in communities where mental health wasn’t openly discussed, we learned how to survive before we ever learned how to heal. We have learned over and over to stay strong, keep moving, take care of everyone else, and handle things on our own. We heard things like “pray about it,” “you’ll be okay,” or “don’t let people see you struggling.” Most of the time, these messages came from a place of love and from generations of people who were doing the best they could with what they had. Many of our parents and grandparents had their own struggles, their own trauma, and their own battles they never had the opportunity to process. But surviving and healing are two completely different things.

The reality is that many people in BIPOC communities carry experiences that impact their mental health in ways others may not always see. This can include generational trauma, racism, discrimination, financial stress, family expectations, cultural pressures, and the feeling that you constantly have to prove yourself. Sometimes the hardest battles are the ones nobody sees. You can be successful and still be struggling. You can be the person everyone calls when they need help and still feel exhausted, overwhelmed, or unsure of who you can turn to when you need support. You can love your family deeply and still acknowledge that some experiences from your past continue to affect you today.

For a long time, many people in our communities have viewed therapy as something you only need when something is “wrong” with you. But therapy is not about fixing someone or telling them what is wrong with them. Therapy is about creating a space where you can finally slow down and understand yourself. It’s about exploring the experiences that shaped you, understanding the emotions you’ve been carrying, and recognizing patterns that may have been passed down or developed as a way to protect yourself. Sometimes healing means asking difficult questions: Why do I react this way? Why is it so hard for me to trust people? Why do I feel like I have to handle everything alone? Where did I learn that my emotions were something I needed to hide?

I believe we need to start redefining what strength means in our BIPOC community spaces.. For many people, strength has meant pushing through, staying silent, and never showing vulnerability in our households. But strength is not pretending that everything is okay when it isn’t. Strength is being honest with yourself. Strength is asking for help. Strength is setting boundaries. Strength is choosing to break cycles that have existed for generations. There is courage in admitting that something hurt you and deciding that you don’t want that pain to continue shaping your life.

Healing does not mean rejecting your culture, your family, or where you come from. Healing means understanding your story and deciding what parts you want to carry forward and what parts you are ready to leave behind. When one person begins healing, it can impact generations after them. The work you do on yourself can change how you communicate, how you show up in relationships, how you support your children, and how future generations understand mental health.

If you have been carrying things silently for years, I hope you know that you do not have to wait until you are completely overwhelmed to prioritize yourself. You do not have to prove that your pain is “bad enough” to deserve support. Your experiences matter. Your emotions matter. Your mental health matters. Sometimes healing starts with one simple decision: being honest enough to say, “Maybe I don’t have to carry this alone anymore.” And sometimes, that one conversation can be the beginning of something that changes everything.