Processed with RNI Films. Preset 'Agfa Optima 200 v.2'

Written By Mesha G., – Official Contributor of The Crowned Series

I’ve been doing a great job of exclaiming to everyone that I recently started going to therapy.  This is something that I’ve been thinking about for a while doing but something just sparked and I was ready to dive in and do it.  It’s probably one of the best decisions that I’ve made for myself. I’m taking the initiative and doing this for me to unpack much that I’ve suppressed for an incredibly long time.  Also working on a Ph.D with a research topic that is embedded in who I am can cause the need for therapy alone. 

Seeing that I have more than enough reasons to start, I want to focus on what took so long to begin.  I understand why black people believe that therapy is only for white people. This myth is one that guides so many to believe that speaking to an objective person is a bad idea. Again, all a myth. But we as black people are used to living in distrustful worlds where we don’t tell folks our business…or better yet, hear “what goes on in this house, stays in this house.” For very good reasons, black people have tried to protect their families from the cruelities of the world we’ve experienced as a group of people for generations.

Therapy has allowed me to be in a space to heal on a level that gives me autonomy for my life.  Considering that black people have always been controlled at some level of capacity in America, allowing us to go to therapy in masses, would set an insurmountable amount of discourse for power structures.  Allowing me to heal from traumas I’ve experienced AND my foremothers? MAN! And before anyone says that slavery is over and black people control shit, we can barely be in our own homes without getting shot.  

The most disheartening part of beginning the process was actually beginning.  I say this because for a while I’ve lightly researched; I’d go on a website here and there or inquire with my insurance to know what was available.  I wanted a black woman as a therapist and I wasn’t settling for anything else. However, considering a few things: 1. I have insurance 2. I’m aware of what’s available and have the resources to navigate all that shit 3. I’m proactively choosing this to one day not really be ready to cut a bitch like I say I am all.thee.time. So, I came in knowing, ready, and all the way prepared. But there weren’t any and I mean any black female therapist that accepted insurance.  And supposedly I got pretty good insurance but my ass pays out of pocket for all this. 

I want to call this out because THIS is why black people don’t go to therapy, at least in places like the great state of Wisconsin.  Newer generations have been trying to break generational curses in all kinds of ways so I don’t necessarily buy completely the black myth of why we believe black people don’t go.  I do know that finances will definitely be a reason to not go, even when you have the money. I definitely didn’t want to pay for this but I knew that my self-care journey needs more depth than getting my nails done. 

Imagine if there was a world that existed where misguided anger and frustration has a place to be worked out.  A place where insecurities could be discussed. For self discovery to happen. Rather than over diagnosed ADHD prescriptions, being called the angry black person or excessive criminal punishment… hell even death. This particular post of mine this month is more of a call to action rather than just sharing a story time of what’s going on in my life.  It’s time to normalize therapy.

 Mesha G., Official Contributor of The Crowned Series

 

 

 

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