First off, I just want to thank you for being here. I pray that you find this platform one that you can be open, find clarity and feel safe with expressing your thoughts. Regardless of what it is that you are seeking from this, welcome to YOUR safe space.
My name is Kayla. I am from Boutte, Louisiana. First and foremost, I am a wife to an amazing man, and a mother to a beautiful little girl, who reminds me everyday that NOTHING is worthy or capable of me losing sight of my faith. But at one point, I almost allowed myself believed that I was not worthy of being in their lives, or worthy of living life in general. So let's talk about it.
For two years, I kept my anxiety and depression struggle a secret from everyone. Why? Well it's probably the same reason as you:
As a black woman, feeling like you have to be strong at all times. Feeling obligated to minimize our own feelings and emotions to benefit others. Or...maybe you were afraid that admitting to your imperfections ( because that's all depression/anxiety is ) , would make you appear weak.
As a black man, feeling like being vulnerable and showing emotion makes you weak or less of a man. Feeling like you have no place within society that doesn't place stereotypic views on who you are, or feeling the pressure of high expectations and obligations that leaves no room to express and embrace what you are going through and struggling with.
These are all the excuses that I used. Instead dealing with my shit head on, I kept myself busy with school and working multiple jobs. Until one day, it caught up with me and forced me to take accountability for how I contributed to things getting as bad as it did.
February 3rd, 2022...
I'll always remember this day because it signifies the day where I reached the absolute lowest point mentally. I did not recognize myself. I just remember crying non-stop, wanting to end my life, being erratic, and crying for help. I couldn't see my faith. I couldn't feel my strength. I couldn't even acknowledge the beautiful life that I have. At this time, my thoughts were so loud, and my body had fallen so weak, that I felt defeated.
What saved me, is me allowing myself to ask for help while in that vulnerable state. I allowed myself to be seen...in my lowest moment. With the help of my friend, Maya and my husband Cody, I was able to not only defeat the thoughts that tried to kill me, but I took the first step in healing: self-transparency and taking accountability for how I contributed to my downfall. Next, I decide to open up to my close family and friends, and no longer hide or be ashamed of not being perfect. I even found an amazing therapist, Mrs. Tonja Chopfield-Jackson, who I SWEAR was hand picked by GOD just for ME!!!! omg...
But let's get to my motivation and purpose behind mental health advocacy...
It took for my faith to be tested, for me to find my purpose and calling in life: Advocating for mental health in the black community. I could've easily allowed circumstances and life battles to turn me into a victim. But I didn't and I never will. Instead, I wanted to use it as a chance to not only heal on my own, but be an advocate for mental health in the black community and provide a safe space for us to be able to be unapologetic when it comes to discussing mental health, childhood trauma, generational curses, and cultural issues that society expects us to water down for their comfort.
AHT AHT!! This isn't the place for it, and it will not be tolerated. Speak your truth. Be angry. Be sad. Whatever is on your heart, I am telling you that THIS is a place where you can just BE.
Welcome to Noir Elevation. If you've made it to this last sentence, I thank you and I'm proud of you.
Blessings,
Love, Kay.
