By Haja Kargbo, PMHNP-BC
Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner
As a psychiatric nurse practitioner and a woman of color, I’ve had the privilege of sitting across from individuals who are hurting but often hesitant to speak up. Whether it’s a young man weighed down by anxiety or a mother fighting through depression while holding her family together, I’ve seen firsthand how deeply stigma keeps us silent.
For too long, mental health has been a taboo topic in our community. We’ve been taught to “pray it away,” “stay strong,“ or “keep our business in the house.“ Although well-intentioned, these messages have led to generations of individuals suffering in silence. And I get it—when we already face systemic barriers, racial injustice, and economic disparities, adding the weight of mental illness can feel like too much to admit.
But here’s the truth: seeking help for your mental health is a form of strength, not weakness.
You can believe in God and see a therapist. You can be strong and take medication. You can love your family and still need space to heal. Our emotions deserve care, just like our bodies do. If we don’t question blood pressure medication, we shouldn’t question antidepressants either. Taking care of your mind is not just okay—it’s necessary.
I have witnessed the transformation when a person finally receives the support they need: sleep returns, joy creeps back in, and hope begins to grow again. Therapy, medication, and community support are all tools, not crutches. We need to feel safe enough to use them.
I want to especially speak to my brothers and sisters who think “mental illness doesn’t happen to people like us.“ It does. And it’s okay to talk about it. Our children are watching. They deserve to grow up in a world where mental health is normalized and asking for help is not shameful.
As a provider, I’m here to listen without judgment. To offer care that understands culture, history, and the quiet burden of being expected to hold it all together. You don’t have to. Not alone.
Let’s keep breaking the silence. Let’s normalize therapy, medication, vulnerability, and healing in our community. Because Black mental health matters—and so do you.
