“If Honesty Was My Best Quality", that's the title of one of my poems, and for a long time, it was my favorite. It explores something we all do, something we can't seem to escape: lie. We lie every day—to our family, friends, and even strangers. Think about it: If I were to ask you right now, "How are you doing?" what would you say? “I’m good,” “I’m fine,” “I can’t complain,” but let’s be real: you could complain, couldn’t you? Nobody wants to burden a stranger with the weight of their unspoken struggles. Sometimes, there just isn't enough energy to explain why everything is not fine.

I’m the same poet who believes in self-expression, in finding an outlet through art or conversation, but I’m also the same poet who will say, “I’m great,” when, in reality, I’m anything but.

If Honesty Was My Best Quality

I’m more confusing than the brain on ecstasy;
I have more questions than answers, more problems than solutions;
I’d rather be home when I’m out or be out when I’m home;
I hate how I look mean;
Well to be honest, I am mean,
But I also hate liars;
I hate myself more for believing their lies,
Like when he told me that he loved me and that we’d be together forever;
I have a personal connection with stars;
They convince everyone else that they’re beautiful yet collapse under their own gravity;
I’m more confusing than Florida weather;
If love was all you wanted from me, you’d be drinking from an empty bottle;
The last guy I let take a sip swallowed all I had left to give;
I’m sorry I’m an empty well, waiting to be rejuvenated;
You know I have a talent for turning any setting into a nightmare,
And any man into a villain;
My life is a series of unfortunate events I have yet to explain,
And lately my favorite sport has been crying, but no one ever realizes how much energy it takes.

So yeah, to answer your question… I’m doing pretty good. How are you?

Honesty in a World That Demands Masks

“I have a personal connection with stars; They convince everyone else that they’re beautiful yet collapse under their own gravity.” This was my truth a few years ago. With the world around me lit up in flames, I danced around the fire ignoring the scars from the burns I endured. Heartbreak, stress, anxiety, depression, death. We know it all too well. These are the unavoidable pains of being human. Our feelings and emotions are just as attached to us as our skin is attached to our flesh. Yet, it’s standard practice to ignore our feelings. “Fake it til you make it.” Lie, lie, and then lie again.

The Strength of Kinship

The history of slavery in America is a painful one. Yet, within the harsh reality of forced labor, racism, and oppressive systems, enslaved Black people found ways to maintain their humanity and sense of community. One of the most profound ways they did this was through kin families.

Kin families during slavery were not always made up of biological relatives but chosen family, created when people were torn apart by the slave trade. Spouses, children, and extended family were separated through auctions, sales, or the whims of enslavers. Despite this, kinship became their cornerstone of survival.

Kin families were more than just practical, protective systems. They were emotional bonds, the kind of bonds we desperately crave today. When slave owners saw us as property, we saw each other as family. Black people redefined family to include close friends, neighbors, and community members who took on familial roles.

Am I the only one who refers to older Black women as “ma” or “grandma,” despite me not having any blood ties to them? Am I the only one who refers to Black friends or even strangers as “brother” or “sister”? My daughter has aunties, uncles, and cousins beyond blood because of the relationships I have created. Kinship networks were essential for emotional resilience then, and they continue to provide a sense of belonging and protection today.

Kinship as a Lifeline

When I had little support during my pregnancy in a city where my family didn’t live, my friends became like sisters and brothers to me. They vowed to be my confidants, my helping hands, and my listening ears. To them, I didn’t have to lie about what I was going through. To them, “I’m fine,” wasn’t the end of our interactions.

In today’s society, we get on social media and share memes and stories that resonate with others in our culture. We laugh and scroll, but those same memes are testaments to the deep connections and shared understanding among Black people.

The Role of Elders and the Power of Vulnerability

Elders during slavery acted as storytellers and keepers of history, passing down wisdom and traditions to younger generations. Today, many Black people relate to these cultural connections and shared experiences. Our interconnection runs so deep that sometimes, words aren’t even necessary.

On a hard day, I walked into a store, and without me speaking a word, the lady behind the counter said, “Imma pray for you.” That was all I needed. Sometimes, we just need to be seen or heard despite the world’s insistence that we keep our pain to ourselves.

When it comes to Black people, we see beyond the “I’m good.” Some of us want to hear all the complaints behind the “I can’t complain.” So, when your life is a series of unfortunate events you have yet to explain—explain. There are people in your circle who want to listen.

I know I would.