“Bold, brazen and straight up savage” -my spirit person
I like that. I attended a series for entrepreneurship on Monday, and the final speaker of the night inspired me to read her book, and she doesn’t have one. The way she spoke, so candidly, assertively, effortlessly—I could have stayed past the three hour mark. I’ve met people who reflect my personality, but this was different. So different that I haven’t yet emailed her to ask if she and I can meet because I don’t know where I’d go after “hi, my name is”.
Truth: I worry that branding myself as this mental health pioneer will fuck me up because of the stigma. We’ve made progress in the number of people who recognize its importance, but overall, people have trouble with things not seen. Mental health isn’t tangible, even though its effects are, and this is hard for some to stomach.
To be frank, I really don’t give a damn about those people because feeding into their close mindedness would weigh on my beliefs. As many words as I have spewed concerning the significance of mental health, last week I needed convincing that I wasn’t the man on the corner shuffling out pamphlets about God only knows what. I shouldn’t ruffle feathers and go to war for this cause. I shouldn’t jump down someone’s throat when their ignorance spills out. I should just stop talking about it. When I slip into “should”s, I splash cold water on my face, get a cup of coffee, and sober the fuck up. As my newest hero so eloquently put it, “I speak my truth”, and I couldn’t agree more.
All in all, I think she and I are supposed to cross paths. You ever feel that way about people? We can choose our friends and romantic partners, but we can’t manufacture connections; you have one or you don’t. If we’re friends, meaning you and I can have hours worth of meaningful conversation so much so that we have to watch the clock, it’s because you make me feel something. If it isn’t obvious, I’m now feeling bold, brazen and in the mood to be straight up savage.