Suicidal thoughts don’t happen in a vacuum—they are shaped by trauma, oppression, and the relentless demand to endure without rest. In Black and Brown communities, silence around this pain is often mistaken for protection, but true prevention begins with connection and being seen in our full humanity. Naming the truth, co-creating crisis plans, and holding space without judgment are radical acts of care—and powerful resistance against a world that isolates us.

For years, I believed strength meant hustle, survival, and never showing weakness. Illness, therapy, and community have since taught me that true power lives in softness—rest, honesty, and allowing myself to be held. To every Black, queer woman who has been told strength is armor: softness is not your liability, it is your birthright.