Being Caribbean and growing up in a Haitian household is an experience. Pride, resilience, and culture are woven into every aspect of life. From an early age, you’re taught the value of hard work, the importance of respect, and the unspoken rule that emotions and other feelings take a backseat to survival. For many of us, mental health wasn’t a conversation at the dinner table. If you were dealing with anxiety, that was considered “stress,” depression was “laziness,” and therapy was, well, I am not sure if any of my friends had a therapist growing up. The expectations were clear: put god 1st, keep pushing, keep quiet. I noticed when the silence became unbearable. I started speaking out more, showing different signs that something was off about me. Many of us grew up carrying generational trauma without even realizing it. We inherited our parents and grandparent’s pain while trying to meet the expectations placed on us. The pressure of being strong became a burden, not just an honor. Mental Health in the Haitian community is often overlooked or misunderstood. It does require healing, tho. That’s very necessary. I had to break a lot of cycles, and that required unsealing harmful narratives. I had to embrace the idea that vulnerability is not weak, it has power as well. I have the power to rewrite what strength looks like. Let’s normalize healing.