2022: A (Personal) Year in Review

Image Description: A wooden table is adorned with green, yellow, and blue lights. The words “Happy New Year” are spelled out with Scrabble tiles. The year 2023 is displayed below them, each number carved out of white wood.

Sitting in my home on the last evening of 2022, I can't help but take a moment to step back and look at the year that was. 2022 was…interesting. Up, down, surreal, and interesting. For me, 2022 was not only my 40th year on Earth but one big ass learning experience.

2022 was a year of me trying to find my creative spark again while grappling with swallowing the hard pill of why my spark was gone.

2022 was the year that I began taking my mental and emotional health more seriously and learning how to process generational and personal trauma.

2022 was the year I started my lifelong journey of addressing codependence in my personal and professional lives.

2022 was the year I began learning about and recognizing how much harm codependence has caused me in relation to family members and co-workers who have not addressed their codependence.

2022 was the year that I decided to take a hiatus from being an in-house anti-racism trainer and facilitator for companies and organizations.

2022 was also the year that I decided to make that hiatus permanent once I realized how much better I felt not doing anti-racism work as an in-house employee with no autonomy or support.

2022 was the year that I had to sit with myself and mull over if I wanted to work in human resources anymore after realizing how my codependence was interconnected with how angry and powerless I've felt as an HR "professional."

2022 was the year that I began figuring out what being an empathetic, human-centered, boundary-oriented HR "professional" looked like and putting these lessons and ideas into action.

2022 was the year that becoming the HR "professional" I need to be to maintain my mental and emotional health and well-being was met with more jeers than cheers, not just from other HR "professionals" but many people in power in organizations I worked for.

2022 was the year that vitriolic emails, comments, and messages from HR "professionals" expressing their anger with me holding the field of Human Resources accountable for the harm that it perpetuates and upholds outweighed the "hate mail" I received from every other field.

2022 was the year that more Global Majority HR "professionals" and HR "professionals" of color tried to silence me, chastise me, and tell me to leave the field of HR "if I don't like it" than Global Majority folx from any other profession and occupation.

2022 was the year that white "professionals" got angry with me when I would no longer engage in "debates" with them or accept connection requests from them on LinkedIn and my social media channels. How angry did they get? So angry that a group of them collectively reported everything I posted for three weeks, intending to get me banned from multiple platforms for "hate speech." And they almost succeeded, too, with me having to have numerous discussions and go through various appeals with LinkedIn and Instagram safety personnel.

That's a lot of sh--, ain't it?

Real talk? Sure, all of the above happened this year. But I find myself on December 31 healthier than I have ever been. I'm happier. I've had more joy between sorrow and pain this year than I have in years, and that joy has outweighed the pain more than ever. Nothing's perfect. There's still a lot of work to continue doing to take care of myself and to continue healing. But even amid the healing and work ahead, I'm the best version of me I've ever been.

Sometimes you need a year of transformation and intention-setting to set up the next stage of your life. For me, 2022 was that year. If you're going to have a transformational year, having it be your fortieth year on Earth ain't a bad time for it to happen, y'know?

I hope that if you're reading this and 2022 was a struggle for you, there is a light at the end of that tunnel and hope on the horizon. I know it's not always easy to find that hope, to embrace joy amid pain, but I wish you nothing but forward progress in 2023. I hope you can do what you need to process the trauma and pain of 2022 and the years past and begin a new journey of health and joy in the coming year. And whatever your journey looks like, I hope you have people to help you when you stumble on the path because I know from experience that the path is full of rocky terrain.

Out with the old. In with the new. Auld Lang Syne. Drink responsibly—all that jazz. Make it home safe.

Here's to (hopefully) less B.S. and more joy, growth, and the energy to live as authentically as we can in a beautiful, ugly world.

Adios, 2022. Salud, 2023.

On tWitch, Trauma, and Being a Black Man in Peril

Image description: a picture of Stephen "tWitch" Boss. He is wearing a yellow beanie and a red and green plaid shirt with rolled sleeves. He is smiling at the viewer.

TW: Discussion around suicide and Black trauma.

With the passing of Stephen "tWitch" Boss, I found myself thinking again this morning about the weight many Black men carry in their brains and bodies.

I think about depression, anxiety, and how Black men and Black bodies have been conditioned to "just deal." In concept and conversation, I'm reflecting on the taboo treatment of mental health in many Black communities. I'm thinking of how my family scoffed at me when I brought up my struggles with depression as a teenager and adult. I think about how I was a functional alcoholic from 15 to my early twenties to dull the pain of feeling inadequate and unable to help my family rise from poverty. I look back on how my family and parents reacted when I mentioned one or all of my siblings possibly struggling with depression and anxiety. I find myself in my teens again, watching my father block out his depression and childhood trauma with gambling and alcohol. I reflect on how my father was in a near-constant state of unhappiness for most of my childhood and adult life and finding out about his decades of drug abuse a few years ago. And while mulling over all of these things, I can't help but wonder how many Black men might still be here if our community cultures didn't deter Black men from being vulnerable and more open to taking care of themselves and asking for help.

I wish being a Black man could include being a human being grappling with your trauma and emotions and seeking help and support from other Black people without being looked down on and being called a "sissy" or "punk."

I wish being a Black man didn't come with the spoken and unspoken shackles of "just deal" ideologies.

I wish being a Black man came with the option to believe in self-care and therapy and talk about it out loud to show other Black men, Black people, that you don't have to be afraid of being a multi-layered being.

I wish being a Black man didn't come with so many ingrained and societally-driven ways to die.

To my fellow Black men: it's OK not to be OK. It's OK not to "be hard" and walk around with a facade masking your pain and trauma. It's OK to ask for help. It's OK to prioritize your mental and emotional health. It's OK to be vulnerable and open and honest. It's OK to believe that you deserve to feel better because you do deserve it.

If you need help, please do not hesitate to seek help. Go to https://www.sprc.org/populations/blacks-african-americans for resources and information. Call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) or text the Crisis Text Line at 741741. Find a Black therapist in your area at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us and schedule an appointment as soon as possible. Get the help you deserve. Your life and health matter.

Black Mental Health Matters.

Rest well, tWitch. Rest well.


[Image description: a picture of Stephen "tWitch" Boss. He is wearing a yellow beanie and a red and green plaid shirt with rolled sleeves. He is smiling at the viewer.]

A Shout-Out To My Homie, Therapy

I want to take a moment to give a huge shout-out to my homie and road dog, therapy. Good lookin' out, homie!

Real talk? I've been having a difficult last few months. A difficult 2021, to be honest. White supremacy and racism have been beating me down after years of doing the bare minimum to take care of myself mentally, emotionally, and physically. Working in white supremacist workplace cultures trying to push for meaningful and deep long-term work had taken its toll on me. By the summer of this year, I was drained. I found myself falling into old patterns of wanting to overdo it, fight harder, with no support system in place in the workplace in the face of white fragility and white violence. I saw my feelings of failure and blaming myself for why things aren't moving forward reacquaint themselves in my life as a familiar albatross on my neck after countless years of fighting it off. I felt like I wasn't of any help to anyone with melanated skin. It took some hard conversations with myself to realize that I had to stop thinking that I had all the answers and that I could "fix it on my own" and finally seek therapy from a Black therapist, someone who would understand me and the complexities of being Black. And honestly?

I cannot hammer home how essential the need for therapy for Black folx, for people of color, is y'all.

Therapy has helped me be firmer with my boundaries than ever before. It's allowed me the space to truly think about embracing joy and engaging in mindfulness and self-care in better ways. It's given me an increasingly important set of tools to center myself in the face of whiteness and oppression. Most importantly, I feel like the weights that have been on my ankles for years are finally unshackled. I feel more and more mentally and emotionally free with each passing session. I have a new focus on my personal and professional goals and now believe more than ever that I can attain those goals.

If you're Black, if you're a person of color, and you're struggling right now please know that you're not alone. If you are privileged to be able to do so, please use sites like Clinicians of Color to find a therapist of color in your area and get the support and validation you deserve. Prioritize yourself. You can't help anyone if you aren't willing to help yourself.

https://www.cliniciansofcolor.org/

Being Black, Feminine-Identifying, and Affiliated With The Police in a Racist Utopia

A few days ago an article surfaced on Oregonlive.com, the online home of The Oregonian newspaper, concerning Portland, Oregon Mayor Ted Wheeler’s performance review for Portland Police Bureau Chief Danielle Outlaw. There’s a lot to unpack after looking at this performance review, unpacking that when you look at Chief Outlaw’s actions as Police Chief bring up a lot of interesting things to examine about the way things often unfold for BIPOC folx when what resembles white cis hetero power and privilege is bestowed upon them by the white establishment.

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