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Dear Wednesday,
I had a ton of plans for the year, for myself, for my business, for expansion, for good health, for travel. It has all come to a screeching halt, since March, and I don't know whether to be angry, indifferent, or react with a wild indignation. Maybe all three emotions would be appropriate, because I have about 50 questions - some selfish, some not:
Under the current state of affairs, dating is nearly impossible. How the heck am I supposed to meet, date and marry a man under the current conditions? Do the men even wanna be met?
Along that vein... I'll be 39 in a few weeks. Where the heck is my family? The one I was supposed to build already with a woke warrior man? How many more times do I have to hear from the doctor that my clock is ticking? This was supposed to be my year.
Where is the Lysol, bleach, wipes, sanitizer, EVERYTHING disinfecting? And why hasn't it been restocked?! Does anyone else feel insulted when they enter the store?
People act like Coronavirus did not happen since we reached Memorial Day, but it has morphed much of our year. As much around us has changed, why do many people seem to have remained the same? Same *ish, same woes, same complaints, same blame, same prejudices, same non-affect?
Why are they worried about their precious beach time more than dead, black bodies? Do they not know that life can not be replaced? Do they not know that embracing the narrative of looting takes away from the narrative of 400 years of pain?
Of course it hasn't been lost on me that some of my non-black friends have tried to attempt support. Now wanting to tag me or message me. Where were you when I asked you to get involved in the business? When I asked you to leave a message on the Challenge You Self podcast? When I asked you to enroll in a course that cost you a few dollars? Where were you then? When I tagged you in a post and you were silent and unsupportive? When have you done something on my behalf that did not benefit you?
As a matter of fact, non-black friends, what have you done to raise your voices before the past few weeks, months or years? Did I perhaps miss your phone call to ask me how the threat of Coronavirus was affecting me - a black woman who is at a higher risk? Have I seen any posts from you that were anti-racism ever? Or have you hid behind Jesus, prayer and love as a default? Honestly, Jesus turned over tables and called people out, or did you miss that part?
Why are CEOs of companies I frequent sending out #blacklivesmatter emails, other than to impact their bottom line? For years the hiring practices of some of these companies have been atrocious. While noble that Apple played nothing but Black music on Tuesday for "solidarity"... I wasn't moved, were you? Temporary measures do not heal a gaping 400-year wound.
Why do my clients want me to agree with them? Or to pacify their feelings? Do they know how insulting it is to sit there and listen to them moan on about their week without an acknowledgement that they are with a Black therapist, who did not just wake up and realize her blackness?
When in the heck do I really get to see my family? We've been taking every precaution since March and it's hard not to see them.
Why? Why is it so hard right now? Why do I feel rushed right now? Why am I tired right now? Why can't I just go sit and see a movie? Or have a drink at a restaurant? Or go get my nails done? I have to think about gloves, masks, sanitizing - why?
Why are the highest leaders of our land so sorry? Hiding in bunkers? Holding upside down bibles? Threatening the people? Denying the problem exists? Stirring up strife like bullies on the playground? It's like an old boyfriend who always blamed me for their stupidity or took credit for things they didn't do at all.
When can I have normal, new normal, some normal? Or is that canceled too? Last I checked normal wasn't a part of the narrative ever, but I have tried to make provisions.
Where is my year? When can I have it back? When will I get a redo? Start the clock over because 2020 isn't supposed to go this way. No year is supposed to go this way. So God, what are you telling us?
We are the problem and the solution. But we must stop performing a character and start challenging and rebuilding our character and integrity. Our lack of self-awareness is killing us. Our lack of others-awareness is killing the soul of this nation, if it ever had one...
Other questions welcome in the comments.
Signed,
The Angry Black Woman (who smiles) and is tired of managing your feelings and mine.
This Dear Wednesday Letter was hand-crafted by Dr. Joy. Dr. Joy Well, mental health clinician, confidence catalyst, professor, self-sabotage solutionist and avid researcher is one of the quintessential experts on the connection between the mind, body, and immune system. Her doctoral work explored the experiences of women of color living with autoimmune diseases and how they function and experience the medical community and beyond. Once a shy, small-town girl with big dreams, Joy has found peace and purpose working with women of all ages to develop a fierce, faith-filled identity, personally and professionally. She is a clinician and entrepreneur in mental health private practice, seeing all ages, backgrounds, and genders. In her spare time, she enjoys music, movies, writing, and getting into mischief with friends. You can find Dr. Joy on social media @captivatingjoy, @confidentsoil, and on the best podcast on the planet, Challenge Yo Self, available now on all podcast platforms.