Nine Truths About Our Healing Journey and a Path Forward Together
A Conversation Within Our Family
There are conversations that happen best around the dinner table—in safe spaces where we know we're loved, where honesty comes wrapped in care, and where accountability lives alongside understanding.
This is one of those conversations.
Not the kind meant for public performance or external validation. Not the kind that provides ammunition to those who would use our honesty against us. But the kind that families have when they love each other enough to speak truth while holding space for healing.
We are carrying the weight of centuries. Slavery, Jim Crow, redlining, mass incarceration, medical experimentation, police brutality, economic exclusion—the list is long and the wounds are deep. Our trauma is real. Our pain is valid. Our anger is justified.
And we are also powerful enough to hold two truths at once:
The systems that oppress us must be dismantled. There is no negotiating this. No waiting until we're "perfect enough" to deserve justice. No making our liberation conditional on meeting anyone's standards but our own.
AND—while we fight those systems, we also have work to do within our own homes, hearts, and communities. Not because we "did this to ourselves." Not because we need to "fix ourselves first." But because we deserve wholeness. Because our children deserve better. Because healing is how we build the strength to keep fighting.
This letter is for us. Written by family, for family. It's about the things we whisper to each other but struggle to say out loud. The patterns we see but don't always name. The healing we need but sometimes resist.
This comes from love. From hope. From the belief that we are mighty enough to face hard truths and strong enough to transform them.
What We'll Talk About
- TRUTH #1: Our Trauma Is Real—And Processing It Is Revolutionary
- TRUTH #2: We Have Power Even Within Systems That Oppress Us
- TRUTH #3: Protecting Each Other Sometimes Means Saying Hard Things
- TRUTH #4: We Can Honor Our Elders and Still Evolve
- TRUTH #5: Our Bodies Deserve Care, Not Just Survival
- TRUTH #6: Healing Our Minds Is As Important As Fighting The System
- TRUTH #7: Black Men—Your Vulnerability Is Strength
- TRUTH #8: Black Women—Your Rest Is Resistance
- TRUTH #9: Boundaries Are Love in Action
- The Path Forward: What Healing Looks Like for Us
- Resources for Our Journey
- Final Word: This Is What Love Does
TRUTH #1: Our Trauma Is Real—And Processing It Is Revolutionary
We carry generational trauma. This isn't metaphor—it's documented in our bodies, our stress responses, our health disparities. The violence our ancestors endured didn't just end with them. It lives in our DNA, our parenting patterns, our relationships with institutions, our trust in systems.
We need to name this. Not to make excuses. Not to avoid accountability. But because you can't heal what you won't acknowledge.
Here's what we sometimes struggle to say at the dinner table:
Some of us have made trauma our identity. We perform our pain instead of processing it. We've learned that suffering gets attention, sympathy, understanding—sometimes even resources. And in that dynamic, healing can feel like losing something.
But performing trauma is different from healing trauma.
When someone in our family goes to therapy, and we call them "weak."
When someone stops drinking, and we call them "no fun."
When someone sets boundaries, and we call them "stuck up."
When someone chooses peace over drama, and we say they "think they better than everybody."
We're policing healing. And we're doing it because, sometimes, someone else's growth makes us face our own stagnation.
What healing actually looks like:
- Acknowledging pain without letting it define you
- Seeking help without shame
- Breaking cycles instead of passing them down
- Supporting each other's therapy, not mocking it
- Understanding that healing doesn't mean forgetting
The revolutionary act isn't carrying trauma—it's transforming it. Our ancestors survived so we could do more than just survive. Let's honor them by actually healing.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #2: We Have Power Even Within Systems That Oppress Us
Let's be absolutely clear: Systemic racism is real. White supremacy is real. Structural oppression is real. This is not about blaming victims or letting systems off the hook.
But here's the conversation we need to have around the dinner table:
We also have agency. Not unlimited agency. Not the same agency as people who haven't faced our obstacles. But real, meaningful power to make choices that affect our lives and our children's futures.
The system didn't make us:
- Avoid doctors until we're in crisis (though lack of insurance and medical racism are real barriers)
- Normalize high blood pressure and diabetes as just "how we are" (though food deserts and stress from racism contribute)
- Spend more on looking wealthy than building wealth (though we've been excluded from wealth-building for generations)
- Stay silent about abuse to protect family image (though we've learned not to trust outside systems)
See how both truths exist?
The systems created the conditions. AND we have choices within those conditions. Both things are true. And both need addressing.
This isn't about individual responsibility replacing systemic accountability. It's about recognizing that while we fight for justice, we can also make choices that improve our lives right now.
We can demand reparations AND teach our kids financial literacy.
We can fight medical racism AND take our health seriously.
We can dismantle oppressive systems AND build strong communities simultaneously.
These aren't competing priorities. They're the same fight from different angles.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #3: Protecting Each Other Sometimes Means Saying Hard Things
We've been taught: Don't air dirty laundry. Keep family business in the house. Don't tell outsiders our problems. Protect the community's image.
These instincts come from real places—from knowing the world is looking for reasons to call us broken, to justify not helping us, to confirm their worst stereotypes.
But we've taken protection too far when we protect harm.
Around this dinner table, we need to talk about:
- The family member whose addiction is destroying them, but we don't "interfere"
- The abuse we witness but don't report because "that's family business"
- The elder whose "old school discipline" was actually abuse that we're repeating
- The toxic relationship we're told to "work through" no matter what
- The mental illness we pretend doesn't exist because we're "strong"
Real love calls people up, not just covers them up.
Real protection means:
- Intervening when someone we love is hurting themselves or others
- Getting help for family members who need it, even if they resist
- Protecting victims, not perpetrators
- Breaking silence that enables harm
- Creating accountability alongside love
This doesn't mean exposing our family to the world. It means being honest within our family so we can actually heal.
Loyalty without accountability isn't love—it's enabling dressed up in tradition.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #4: We Can Honor Our Elders and Still Evolve
Our elders survived unimaginable things. They made ways out of no way. They endured what would have broken many of us. We owe them honor, respect, and gratitude.
And we also need to recognize this:
Many of their coping mechanisms were designed for survival in a specific context—a context that, thank God, we're not entirely in anymore (though we still face plenty of battles).
The dinner table conversation is this:
Survival strategies aren't always thriving strategies.
They taught us to:
- Work ourselves to death to prove our worth
- Never show weakness or vulnerability
- Don't trust anybody, including ourselves
- Keep your head down and don't make waves
- Suffer in silence because complaining doesn't help
- Avoid confrontation to stay safe
These kept them alive. But they're not enough for us to thrive.
We need different tools:
- Therapy to process what work can't fix
- Vulnerability to build real intimacy
- Trust that's earned and given strategically
- Speaking up for ourselves and demanding better
- Expressing our needs and emotions healthily
- Confronting problems instead of avoiding them
Evolution isn't disrespect. It's honoring the struggle by building on it, not just repeating it.
Our elders climbed the mountain so we could go higher. If we only use their tools and refuse new ones, we've missed the point of their sacrifice.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #5: Our Bodies Deserve Care, Not Just Survival
Soul food is culture. It's history. It's love. It's creativity born from oppression—making something beautiful from scraps.
And it's also contributing to health crises that are killing us earlier than we should die.
Both things are true.
High blood pressure, diabetes, heart disease, stroke, obesity—these aren't just "genetic" or "how we're built." They're responses to:
- Food insecurity that taught us to eat when food is available
- Stress from racism that our bodies hold
- Lack of access to fresh food in our neighborhoods
- Cultural practices built in survival mode
- Generational patterns we haven't questioned
Around the dinner table, we need to talk about:
- Why we treat suggestions to eat healthier as attacks on Mama's cooking
- Why we normalize drinking to cope with stress
- Why we mock each other for going to the gym or eating vegetables
- Why we call self-care "bougie" or "acting white"
- Why we wait until we're in crisis to see a doctor
We can honor soul food traditions AND choose to modify them for health.
We can keep the culture and update the recipes.
We can celebrate our heritage while caring for our bodies.
Taking care of ourselves isn't betraying our ancestors—it's continuing their fight by different means. They wanted us to survive. Let's honor them by thriving.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #6: Healing Our Minds Is As Important As Fighting The System
Black people invented communal processing. The cipher. The barbershop conversation. The church testimony. The kitchen table talk. We've always known we needed spaces to work through pain.
So why do we call therapy "white people stuff"?
Our mental health crisis is real:
- Black women have the highest rates of depression
- Black men's suicide rates are climbing
- Black children are being diagnosed with PTSD at alarming rates
- We're passing down unprocessed trauma like family recipes
And we're still saying "just pray about it" while refusing to acknowledge that God also gave us:
- Therapists who understand our specific experiences
- Medication that can help when our brains need it
- Mental health tools that work alongside faith
- Community support that includes professional help
Prayer without action is hope without strategy.
Around this table, let's agree:
- Therapy is healthcare, not weakness
- Medication is a tool, not a failure
- Black therapists exist and understand our context
- Mental health is as important as physical health
- Asking for help is brave, not shameful
- We can go to church AND therapy
Our ancestors used every tool available to survive. We dishonor them when we refuse tools that could help us heal.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #7: Black Men—Your Vulnerability Is Strength
Brothers, this part is specifically for you, spoken with love from your family:
We've taught you that emotions are weakness. That asking for help is failure. That vulnerability is feminine. That your worth is measured by how much pain you can endure without flinching.
We were wrong.
That programming was designed to help you survive in a world that saw you as a threat. But it's also killing you—through stress, through isolation, through untreated depression and anxiety that you mask as anger.
The things we don't say at the table:
- Many of you are deeply depressed and hiding it
- You're anxious but call it "being alert"
- You're lonely even in relationships
- You're carrying trauma from violence, poverty, absent fathers
- You fear you're not enough and will never be enough
- You're self-medicating with alcohol, drugs, work, sex
And then we wonder why:
- Your blood pressure is through the roof
- You're dying younger than you should
- Your relationships keep falling apart
- You're angry all the time without knowing why
Real strength is saying "I'm not okay" and getting help.
Real manhood is breaking cycles, not continuing them.
Real protection means being healthy enough to actually protect.
You don't have to carry everything alone. You're allowed to hurt. You're allowed to cry. You're allowed to need support. You're allowed to be fully human.
We need you here—whole, healed, and healthy.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #8: Black Women—Your Rest Is Resistance
Sisters, we need to talk about what we've done to you—and what you've accepted as your role:
We've made you the backbone, the caregiver, the nurturer, the stabilizer. You hold everything together. And somewhere along the way, we convinced you that your value is in your service to everyone else.
You give and give and give until there's nothing left.
You take care of:
- The kids (yours and everyone else's)
- The elders
- The church
- The job that underpays and overworks you
- The partner who won't do their share
- The family that takes more than it gives
- The community that expects your strength
And you neglect yourself.
The conversation we need to have at this table:
You are not a mule. That imagery was forced on you. You don't have to carry it forward.
You are not required to:
- Be strong all the time
- Sacrifice your health for others
- Give up your dreams for everyone else's
- Stay in situations that drain you
- Settle for less than you deserve
Rest is not selfish.
Boundaries are not mean.
Choosing yourself is not betrayal.
Saying no is not letting people down.
In a system designed to exhaust you, your rest is literally resistance. Your boundaries are revolutionary. Your self-care is a form of protest against a world that wants you depleted.
You cannot pour from an empty cup. And the community doesn't get to guilt you for refilling yours.
We see you. We appreciate you. And we're telling you: it's okay to put yourself first sometimes.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsTRUTH #9: Boundaries Are Love in Action
When you set boundaries in our community, you get called:
- "Uppity"
- "Bougie"
- "Acting white"
- "Think you better than somebody"
- "Funny acting"
- "Stuck up"
- "Not really Black"
This is how we police each other's healing.
We've been conditioned to believe that accommodating everyone's dysfunction is what makes us authentically Black. That if you won't tolerate disrespect, drama, and chaos, you're somehow betraying the culture.
But that's not culture—that's unhealed trauma pretending to be tradition.
Real Black excellence is:
- Saying no without guilt
- Walking away from toxicity
- Protecting your peace
- Demanding respect
- Choosing health over habit
- Building relationships that honor you
Around this dinner table, let's agree on something:
The people who get mad at your boundaries are usually the ones who benefited from you having none.
If someone is upset that you:
- Won't lend money you can't afford to lose
- Won't tolerate disrespect
- Won't stay in toxic situations
- Won't sacrifice your mental health
- Won't accept less than you deserve
That says everything about them and nothing about you.
Boundaries aren't walls—they're gates. They let good things in and keep harmful things out. They're how we love ourselves and others sustainably.
↑ Back to Table of ContentsThe Path Forward: What Healing Looks Like for Us
We've talked about hard truths. Now let's talk about hope and action.
Healing in our community requires us to:
1. Hold Two Truths Simultaneously
- We've been oppressed by systems beyond our control
- AND we have agency in how we respond and rebuild
- Both are true. Both matter. Neither negates the other.
2. Demand Systemic Change While Doing Internal Work
- Fight for reparations AND build generational wealth
- Dismantle racist healthcare AND take care of our health
- Address police violence AND heal community trauma
- These aren't sequential—they're simultaneous
3. Create Accountability With Love
- Call out harm while supporting healing
- Hold each other responsible while offering help
- Protect victims while believing in redemption
- Accountability and compassion aren't opposites
4. Normalize Mental Health Care
- Therapy is strength, not weakness
- Medication helps, it doesn't make you less Black
- Processing trauma is brave work
- Asking for help is revolutionary
5. Evolve Our Understanding of Strength
- Vulnerability is powerful
- Rest is productive
- Boundaries are healthy
- Crying doesn't make you weak
- Healing is the strongest thing you can do
6. Support Each Other's Growth
- Celebrate when someone goes to therapy
- Honor boundaries without taking them personally
- Encourage evolution, not just tradition
- Make healing contagious, not shameful
7. Build While We Fight
- Create economic power
- Invest in our children's education
- Build institutions that serve us
- Develop leadership from within
- Support Black-owned and Black-serving businesses
8. Break Cycles Intentionally
- Name the patterns we're ending
- Do the work to not pass trauma down
- Create new traditions alongside old ones
- Give our children what we didn't have
Resources for Our Healing Journey
Finding Black Therapists:
- Therapy for Black Girls (therapyforblackgirls.com)
- Black Mental Health Alliance (blackmentalhealth.com)
- Inclusive Therapists (inclusivetherapists.com)
- National Queer and Trans Therapists of Color Network (nqttcn.com)
Crisis Support:
- National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 988
- Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741
- Black Mental Health Hotline: 1-866-727-9095
- Trans Lifeline: 1-877-565-8860
Financial Literacy:
- Operation HOPE (operationhope.org)
- National Urban League (nul.org)
- Black Enterprise (blackenterprise.com)
Health Resources:
- Black Doctor (blackdoctor.org)
- Association of Black Cardiologists (abcardio.org)
- National Black Nurses Association (nbna.org)
Books on Healing:
- "My Grandmother's Hands" by Resmaa Menakem
- "The Body Keeps the Score" by Bessel van der Kolk
- "Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome" by Dr. Joy DeGruy
- "Unapologetic" by Charlene Carruthers
Final Word: This Is What Love Does
If this letter made you uncomfortable, sit with that.
If it made you defensive, ask yourself why.
If it made you think of someone who needs to read it, send it with love.
This isn't about shaming us.
This isn't about blaming victims.
This isn't about letting systems off the hook.
This is about loving us enough to tell the truth in a safe space.
The systems that oppress us are real and must be dismantled. There's no negotiating that. No waiting. No making it conditional on our "good behavior."
AND—while we fight those systems, we also deserve healing, wholeness, and the freedom to thrive right now. Not after the revolution. Not when things get better. Now.
We can hold both truths:
- We didn't create the systems that harm us
- AND we have power to make choices within those systems
- Generational trauma is real and affects us
- AND we can break cycles for the next generation
- We deserve justice from external systems
- AND we deserve healing in our internal communities
The revolution is both external and internal.
We cannot dismantle white supremacy without also dismantling the internal patterns it created in us.
We cannot demand justice from systems while avoiding accountability within our families.
We cannot build Black futures without healing Black trauma.
This dinner table conversation is the beginning.
It's the acknowledgment that:
- We've been hurt
- We're still being hurt
- AND we're also capable of hurting each other
- AND we're powerful enough to heal
- AND we're brave enough to do the work
All of these things are true at once.
So what do we do?
We get honest with each other in safe spaces like this.
We support each other's healing journeys.
We hold each other accountable with love.
We build while we fight.
We rest while we resist.
We break cycles while demanding justice.
We do all of it at once, because we're strong enough to hold complexity.
This letter is written with love.
This letter comes from hope.
This letter believes in us.
We are not fragile. We are not helpless. We are not defeated.
We are the descendants of people who survived the unsurvivable. We carry their strength. And we honor them not by just surviving, but by actually thriving.
The healing starts here, at this table, with this conversation.
Will you join it?
With love, hope, and belief in our collective power,
Your Family