A Black man with blond-tipped locs lies on his back in the middle of a quiet residential street, wearing a bright yellow shirt and light gray pants. His hands are clasped in front of his face in a gesture that suggests overwhelm

Photo by: Jayson Hinrichsen

We can’t afford to keep sweeping things under the rug. In real time, we are in a state of collective exhaustion. Inflation is making it hard for families to stay afloat, racial tensions continue to rise, and communities of color are still fighting for basic rights and recognition. Add in the impact of constant police brutality, mass shootings, and political unrest, and you’ve got a mental health crisis that’s hard to ignore. 

Or worse, we pretend it’s not that deep.

For many, the expectation is to keep pushing forward, no matter what. “Just pray about it.” “Ain’t nothing wrong with you.” “You just need to toughen up.” These phrases, passed down from generation to generation, might come from a place of love, but they also cause harm. They minimize real struggles and make it harder for people to seek the desperately needed help.

A group of four people sits quietly in a dimly lit living room. Three individuals—two women of color and a nonbinary person—are seated on a patterned rug, appearing emotionally heavy and introspective.

Photo by cottonbro studio

The stigma exists because mental health care in the U.S. has a history of excluding and mistreating Black and Brown people; women and queer people. From misdiagnosis to unethical medical experiments, there’s been a long-standing distrust in the system—and for good reason. When access to quality mental health care is limited and cultural competency is lacking, seeking help doesn’t always feel like a safe option.

Then there’s the media. Black and Brown individuals are often portrayed as aggressive, dangerous, or “crazy” when struggling with mental health. When a white person commits a crime, they’re given the benefit of the doubt—“They had mental health issues.” But when it’s a Black or Brown person? They’re labeled a criminal, full stop. Queer folks are seen as fetishized,  Asian folks (in all of the diaspora) are barely in the zeitgeist; and Native Americans and SWANA  folk are seen as one dimensional. This double standard only reinforces the idea that acknowledging mental health struggles is risky for the “othered”. 

Anxiety, depression, and PTSD  aren’t just buzzwords; they’re real conditions that show up in our relationships, our work, our physical health, and even how we raise our children.

WE HAVE TO SHIFT THE STORY TO BREAK THE STIGMA.

Photo by: Kampus

That means:

  • Normalizing therapy. Therapy isn’t just for white folks. It’s for everybody. Finding a culturally competent therapist who understands the unique struggles of your community can be life-changing.

  • Dismantling harmful narratives. Being strong doesn’t mean suffering in silence. We need to stop equating mental health struggles with weakness and start embracing vulnerability as a sign of strength.

  • Building COURAGEOUS spaces. Listen, safety is a construct, and sharing requires courage. Whether it’s in our families, our friend circles, or community centers, we need places where people can talk about what they’re going through without fear of judgment. Can you be that person? Who are your people?

  • Holding institutions accountable. Valuing mental health as part of workplace practices, creating better policies that invest in all communities.

  • Using social media for good. We consume a lot of content daily—spread awareness, share resources, and support one another.

Breaking the stigma won’t happen overnight, but every conversation, every shared resource, and every step toward healing makes a difference. 

What is necessary is that people need to find a way to express their emotions and be heard - a therapist isn’t always the answer - Mental health care should never be a luxury, a privilege, or an afterthought. It is a right. It’s a necessity for all. 

If you or someone you know is struggling, don’t wait. Ask questions. Seek help, reach out, and remember: You are not alone in this fight.

Healing starts with us. Let’s keep the conversation going.

We’re here at LBT, and if there is a crisis, reach out to: Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: Call or text 988.

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Independence, Autonomy, and Healing: Rethinking Freedom in Therapy