The last couple of months have been heavy — really heavy. Between living through a global pandemic and witnessing the ongoing fight against police brutality and racism, it’s been a lot to process. Today, I wanted to slow down, take a deep breath, and write from the heart about some of my personal experiences and how I’m feeling right now.
Growing up, I had “the talk” — the one that so many Black families have. It wasn’t about birds or bees; it was about how to act around police and how to keep myself safe. I learned early on that if something ever happened, I should call my family first — not necessarily the police. It’s an unfair reality, but it’s one that has been passed down through generations.
As someone who’s mixed, my experience has always existed in a sort of in-between space. I’ve been surrounded by love from family on all sides, but I’ve also had to sit through uncomfortable moments — moments when people questioned white privilege, dismissed “Black Lives Matter” with “Blue Lives Matter,” or ignored racism simply because it didn’t affect them personally. Those conversations hurt. They chipped away at something inside me for a while.
But instead of letting that pain change how I see myself, it changed how I see them.
It taught me who was willing to listen — and who wasn’t. It showed me that silence in the face of racism is just another form of harm. And though it’s exhausting to always be the one explaining why Black lives matter, I’ve learned to find strength in my voice.
Sometimes, I still feel drained — like I’ve hit a wall. It’s frustrating to live in a world where I have to defend my humanity, to explain history that’s easily accessible if people just cared enough to learn. But at the same time, I have hope. I see friends, family, and communities showing up, speaking out, and learning how to be better allies.
That gives me strength.
That gives me peace.
I’m still learning how to navigate certain relationships — especially with people I love who hold views I can’t support. But I know I’ll find what’s right for me, and I hope you will too.
Change takes courage. It takes compassion. And it takes choosing to care, every single day. I still believe we can get there — with open hearts, honest conversations, and a shared hope for something better.
Cupcakes & Tea with Elizabeth 