The first entry of this month was a declaration of my racial identity. For too long I felt like its reveal would push away anyone that would have settled on this blog being written by anyone that matches their comforts. After a while I’d reveal that much and let whatever happens happen.

I eventually told myself that I didn’t need to hide that part of me anymore. I was already successful at opening about matters that cover most of this blog. Ones that people of my race are divided between those that reveal their emotional and domestic issues, and others that want them to stay quiet about it.

It was already a “damned if I do or don’t” feeling going into those topics alone. They are ones that anyone of every background may relate to if they’ve done the work to reveal it to themselves. Holding them in while being secretive about my race to potentially reach a wider audience felt safe.

Then came more research. More awareness that other black folk of all ages, identities, and more, were sharing their discoveries, pains, and progress on every platform possible. I remember looking at how much of a following they had and was almost intimidated by the idea of “who’s going to listen to me when we’re already out here?”

“No,” I told myself. “They are out here. You’re not. At least not fully.”

It also helped to remind myself that I didn’t start this for mass appeal. I did it because it was the only way to share my views and opinions without starting a conflict with anyone close to me that it could affect.

That didn’t work out too well with one, but it didn’t stop me.

Like every disappointing and hurtful moment, it was inspirational to keep going.  

So, months ago, I made the progress to use other platforms to do just that. Share my experiences with my face sometimes in full view, tagging this page to accounts for others to witness what else dances in my otherwise entertaining head.

Being comfortable with the fact that for any one person that walks or avoids because I don’t fit the image of what black people do, others will come and praise me for being open about how I’m healing. How I hope to heal others.

No matter how different our race, appearance, age ranges, and other things will be with each other, healing from what’s hurt and hurting us can be a way to come together and share joy lying on the other sides of that. Moments will be shared that are exclusive to our person, but there’s always something good to take from someone else’s story.

Sometimes it takes putting aside any shallow grievances to do it, but it is both possible and worth journey.

It has been for me.

D.F.