Here’s To The Blog I Almost Didn’t Start

So, hello. Welcome! (Take your shoes off, please.) I’m writing this to formally invite you into my headspace. It may get a little scary in here, but it’s an interesting, fascinating journey… sometimes.

Let’s start with something I once told my therapist: I felt like an alien.
Not “otherworldly.” Not even the third track off Beyoncé’s Renaissance.
No, literally. Webster’s definition: a foreigner who is not naturalized where they’re living. Yeah.

That level of transparency didn’t come easy. Why? Because my brain is filled with A. LOT. I lock my thoughts inside myself to collect dust until I feel “ready” or brave enough to polish, clean, and filter out what I think is so disparaging. I’ve backspaced and restarted this sentence SEVERAL times. Why? Because I’m (unfortunately) a perfectionist. And not just a perfectionist—one who’s been dealing with her mental health issues for quite some time.

Now… this is not a personal invitation to a pity party either (don’t be alarmed, boo!). I’d consider this me… venting? Healing? Questioning my sanity in public? Meh. Let’s just go with being human out loud.

Admittedly, doing the “human” thing has been tough. Look who’s running the country, look at what’s happening in the world, look at how taxing it is being a Black woman. And even though I’m one of millions, and so fortunate to be gang, I still crawl into myself more than I’d like to admit.

I judge my thoughts (read: really myself) so harshly you’d think I’m on a panel with a strict scorecard for the simplest shit. What… is that? Like, really. I’ve been trying to figure it out. I’ve been taking the time to dig deep and understand what makes me isolate, hide, and shrink away from my own mind.

So walk with me in that discovery. Walk with me in shoes that aren’t so easy to walk in. But like Mental Stilettos: it’s all about balance, not comfort.

Until next time,
Jenn