Honoring Our Strength: Reflections on Black Mental Health, Resilience, and Help-Seeking

Every July, National Minority Mental Health Awareness Month (also known as BIPOC Mental Health Awareness Month) encourages conversations about the unique strengths and challenges experienced by Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) communities. As I thought about what I wanted to contribute to that conversation, I found myself revisiting a section of my dissertation on help-seeking among African Americans.

Growing up, many of us learned that strength was more than a personal characteristic—it was a way of surviving. Strength meant showing up for your family, working through adversity, keeping your faith, and finding a way forward even when life felt impossibly heavy. The expectation of strength did not emerge in a vacuum. It was forged through generations of surviving circumstances that often demanded endurance over restoration. After emancipation, African Americans continued to face racial violence, economic injustice, and broken promises during Reconstruction. In that context, healing was rarely centered. Survival was. That legacy of resilience has helped countless African American individuals, families, and communities navigate generations of hardship and injustice.

Strength is worth honoring.

But the expectation of always being strong can be exhausting.

Sometimes the very messages that teach us how to endure difficult seasons can also make it harder to recognize when we need support ourselves.

I've spent the last few years studying grief experiences among African American adults. Although my research focused specifically on pet loss, one theme continued to surface in ways that reached far beyond grief itself. A recurring theme in both my research and the broader literature is the careful consideration many African Americans give to expressing emotional pain. Concerns about being misunderstood, judged, or having grief minimized can influence whether, when, and with whom people choose to share their experiences.

Those observations have also influenced the direction of my next research project. In an upcoming grant-funded study, I'll be exploring post-loss social support among African American pet owners following pet loss, with a particular focus on the barriers and facilitators to seeking support after bereavement. I'm interested in understanding not only where people find support, but also what influences their experiences when they seek support and how those experiences affect their grieving process.

Those questions extend beyond pet loss. They invite us to consider how culture, community, lived experience, and expectations about strength influence the ways we navigate grief and emotional well-being more broadly.

As I reflected on this topic, I found myself thinking about a conversation I once had with my own mother. After I mentioned that I was going to a therapy appointment—a practice she already knew had been part of my life for quite some time—she looked at me and asked, "When are you going to get better?"

I never interpreted her question as a criticism of therapy. Instead, I heard it through the lens of her generation. She came from a time when survival often meant pushing forward, carrying difficult experiences quietly, and continuing to meet the demands of everyday life. There wasn't always space—or permission—to pause, process, or seek professional support.

That conversation has stayed with me because it reminds me that our beliefs about help-seeking don't develop in isolation. They are influenced by our families, our communities, our histories, and the messages we've inherited about what it means to be strong.

Those experiences echo what a growing body of research has found about mental health and help-seeking within African American communities.

Contrary to some beliefs, the issue is not that African Americans "don't believe in therapy." In fact, research suggests that many African Americans recognize the value of counseling and often view grief as an appropriate reason to seek professional support. Yet recognizing that help can be beneficial is not always the same as feeling able to ask for it.

Stigma remains a powerful barrier. Concerns about being judged, being misunderstood, or being labeled as "crazy" continue to influence decisions about whether to seek care. For many, finding a provider who understands the cultural, historical, and lived experiences that influence mental health is an important part of feeling seen, understood, and supported.

Layered onto these realities are cultural expectations surrounding strength.

Researchers have described concepts such as the Strong Black Woman schema, the Superwoman schema, and John Henryism—frameworks that help explain how resilience, perseverance, and caring for others have become deeply valued responses to adversity. These narratives reflect remarkable strength, but they can also create an unspoken expectation that we should continue carrying emotional burdens without asking for help.

Over time, those expectations can become so familiar that we no longer recognize them as expectations—they become part of how we understand strength and resilience.

There is an important distinction between resilience and self-sufficiency. Resilience does not mean never experiencing emotional distress. It does not mean grieving without support, carrying every burden alone, or believing that asking for help somehow diminishes our strength.

In many ways, the opposite is true.

Seeking support does not erase resilience. It is one expression of it.

Faith, family, community, and professional mental health care do not have to exist in competition with one another. For many people, healing is strengthened—not weakened—when these sources of support work together.

As we recognize National Minority Mental Health Awareness Month, I don't pretend to have all the answers. But I do think this is one question worth carrying with us—especially for those of us who identify as Black, Indigenous, or People of Color (BIPOC):

What if strength isn't measured by never needing support, but by recognizing that seeking support is one expression of strength?

If you or someone you know is experiencing a mental health crisis or is in immediate danger, please seek help right away. In the United States, you can call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. If you believe there is an immediate emergency, call 911 or go to your nearest emergency department.

Seeking help is a sign of strength, and support is available.