Why We’re Still Careful: Mental Health and the (Constant) Weight of the White Gaze

By: Janis Hillard 

For many of us in the melanated community, talking openly about mental health still feels like a risk—not just in our communities, but especially when white people are listening.

There’s a fear that our honesty will be weaponized. That vulnerability will be mistaken for weakness. That if we say we’re tired, we’ll be labeled unstable. That if we admit we’re overwhelmed, it will confirm someone else's suspicion that we’re not built to lead, to manage, to endure. So instead of saying I’m struggling, we say I’m fine. We laugh it off. We keep showing up.

For generations, survival has depended on being strong. And too often, “strength” has been defined as silence—holding it all in, not letting them see us sweat, because the consequences of not doing that can cost us jobs, safety, and dignity.

Social media, especially platforms like TikTok, has become a kind of release valve for many

of us. It’s where we share the moments we can’t say out loud in real life—about work, burnout, therapy, and everything in between. It feels like a “safe” space to freely express

our grievances and gripes. However, many of us still hesitate to show our faces.

Maybe it’s generational. Maybe it’s protective. Maybe it’s both.

Or maybe we’re still afraid of being seen too clearly.

Ways to Feel Safer Speaking Up:

·       Find culturally competent therapists who see you—there are directories made for us.

·       Share in trusted group chats or private communities before going public.

·       Journal first. Sometimes naming it privately helps build the courage to name it aloud.

·       Use aliases or voiceovers online if showing your face feels like too much.

·       Take breaks from explaining—your healing doesn’t need to be justified.

·       Know this: being seen fully is not a threat. It’s a beginning.

Lastly, do something. It’s never healthy to bottle things up without expressing them.

Mental health isn’t a luxury. It’s a right. And Black, Brown & Cultured folks deserve the safety to speak without fear – or retribution – of the gaze.