Q&A Link Copied 03.06.24

Solomon Thomas Is Talking About His Feelings in the Locker Room

The NFL defensive lineman knows how important—and how brave—it is to be vulnerable. ByCasey Gueren

Solomon Thomas was about seven weeks into the NFL season last year when he started making sourdough bread. “I wasn’t playing well, I wasn’t feeling good mentally. And I was like, I need to do something. I need to break the routine of going home and just thinking about football.” Pretty soon he was making a few loaves a week for his teammates, and some of the other New York Jets players got in on the action too. “I know it doesn’t sound like a mental health thing, but it was so therapeutic for me to have a hobby outside of football to go home to.” 

Baking bread is hardly the only tool in Thomas’s mental fitness toolkit. The defensive lineman tells Wondermind his mental health routine involves therapy, meditation, journaling, exercising, getting outside, and plenty of deep conversations with friends. 

Thomas never expected to be a mental health advocate and co-founder of a mental health foundation. Then, six years ago, he lost his sister Ella to suicide, and everything changed. Out of unthinkable heartache, The Defensive Line was born. “Our mission is to end the epidemic of youth suicide, especially for young people of color, by transforming the way we connect and communicate over mental health,” says Thomas, who was recently awarded the 2023 Heisman Humanitarian Award. 

The foundation, which he co-founded with his parents, brings suicide prevention programs into schools, businesses, and collegiate sports programs to better equip anyone in a mentorship role (teachers, coaches, etc.) to spot the warning signs, respond in a crisis, and create a safe space to share what’s going on. “When I was growing up in school, by the time I got home, I wasn’t going to talk to [my parents] about my feelings. The people who were going to see my changes in behavior were my teachers, my coaches. And it’s the same thing at work,” says Thomas. “Just trying to train everyone to understand mental health and the warning signs and the questions—I think that’s a huge part of suicide prevention and mental health awareness.” 

Here, Thomas shares more about his mental health journey, how he keeps Ella’s memory alive, and his strategy for getting more guys to talk about their feelings in the locker room. 

WM: How are you, really? 

ST: I am good right now, but at the same time—ever since the season ended on January 8th—I’ve been living in a very anxious state because I’m a free agent this year. So that means in March, I don’t have a team. I don’t technically have a job yet. And so I pack up my place in New Jersey, I put it all in storage, and I go live with my parents as a 28-year-old. I go train at home and I just kind of wait to see what’s next.

And I’m a homebody. Home, for me, is peace. So not having a home right now is hard. I’ve been home probably four to six days in February, and I’ve been traveling on the road doing a lot of things. So today’s been a good day, but definitely each day has been a little bit of a different struggle being in this space of the unknown and not knowing what’s next. And I’m just really excited to figure out where I’m going to be playing next, where I’m going to be living. I am good, but I’m also figuring out this anxious state that I’m looking at.

WM: What are some ways that you deal with that uncertainty? 

ST: I’m really thankful that I’ve been in this work the last few years. Now I have things to rely on to deal with my anxiety and to deal with this state of uncertainty so I’m not stuck in this state of being on edge all day. I can journal. I think it helps me out a lot, helps me stay grounded. I’m a big overthinker, so it gets my thoughts out of my head. 

Also I have more time now that we’re not in season, so I’m meeting with my therapist a lot more. We’re probably meeting one to two times a week, and she’s been amazing and really helping me to just get back in the flow of life and understand, hey, we’re in this state right now, but you can still function in this state and you can still have good days in the state.

And, past that, training is a big part of my job, but it also helps me out mentally a lot when I work out. I love training, I love being in the gym. It’s kind of like a peace for me. But also getting outside, getting a lot of sun. In season, we go through a lot of pain and trauma, so getting my basic vitals in—whether it’s vitamins, going on walks in the sun, listening to certain music—helps me be more calm. 

And then just having these conversations with my friends and talking about it. Last night I called a friend and we had a conversation about, “Hey, we know it’s about to come up. We know it’s about to be stressful and anxious, but I got your back. We can get through it. Good things are coming our way.” It’s positive affirmations we’re telling each other, but also just like, “Hey, we’re not alone. We’ve been through this before together, and we’re going to get through it together again.” 

WM: Can you tell us about your mental health journey? Is this something you’ve always been passionate about? 

ST: I really never thought I would be here. I was always sensitive growing up, very emotional. My parents raised us to know our emotions, to love and to be there for each other, and to communicate these things. But, at the same time, being a young man growing up in a locker room a lot and being in competitive sports, it was something that I never really did. … So mental health was never a big thing for me or something that I really believed in growing up, but it became a huge passion of mine. 

In 2018, I lost my sister to suicide, and my family and I were thrown into this mental health world, and it was just a world we knew nothing about. Ella died by suicide, but people never talked about it. They would talk about Ella dying and Ella not being here, but it was never: “Why isn’t Ella here? What signs did we miss? Did you know this about Ella?” It was just something we didn’t talk about, and it kind of threw me and my family into this very empty world where we felt alone. We felt like we couldn’t talk about it. We felt like people weren’t there for us. People were there for us—we had the most amazing support in the world—but around the subject of mental health, we didn’t feel like people were there for us so we could have that conversation. 

There’s no right way to handle that type of death, but I didn’t handle it correctly. I kind of suppressed my emotions. I was told: Be strong for your parents, give it to God, pray about it and you’ll be fine. In my head, I’m like, OK, people go through this all the time. People lose people. I’m going to be OK. And I kept trying to move on that way. I’d lost loved ones before, but my sister was my person. She was my constant in this world of moving around all the time. She was a person who made me feel like I wasn’t weird. She made me feel normal, and she made me feel validated. And not having her here, it was a new feeling and sensation of being alone and being empty.

So I would suppress these emotions, and then my world just kept getting darker and darker. And it got to a point where the season had started and I had just gotten a concussion and I was alone a lot. You have to sit in a dark room after concussion. And I started getting these deep, dark thoughts—thoughts I never thought I would have before. And I kept judging myself for these thoughts. Then you get in this pattern of not wanting to wake up, not wanting to go to sleep, and I’m stuck in suicidal ideation—not even knowing what that meant at the time—and just in a really hard place. 

One morning before work, my general manager, John Lynch, came up to me and he was like, hey, so we know you’re struggling and we got your back, and if you need help, we got you. At this time, I had been refusing to go to therapy. … I had seen a sports psychologist [when I was at Stanford University] for a little bit. And I went back to her for one session and she asked me that question—she said, “How are you doing, really?” And I just started bawling, crying in the session and talking about Ella and how much I missed her and how much I’m struggling. And at the end of the session, she told me, “Hey, Solomon, you need to get better help than me. I’m not cut out for what you’re going through.” After that, I was like, That’s my sign. Therapy’s not for me. If she can’t handle me, who can? And then, going back to John, that conversation lifted the weight off my shoulders. And after that, I was finally able to get help.

From going to therapy, I learned how to understand my depression, understand my sadness, to talk about it, to put it into words. She taught me how to have coping mechanisms when these things come up. She taught me that it’s OK to cry. It’s OK to feel this. You don’t have to feel good right now. You’re not supposed to feel good right now. You’re learning how to live again. 

So my philosophy and my family’s philosophy is: If doing this work, having these talks, putting my vulnerability and my deep dark secrets out there—which is something I never thought I’d be doing—if that saves one life, if that saves one person from going through the pain that Ella went through, or if that saves one family from going through the pain that we go through for missing Ella, it’s all worth it. 

Of course, the one thing I would change about this whole journey is Ella being here. I want her here more than anything. But going through this journey, I’ve learned a new way to live, a new way to connect with people, a new way to see life. And I wouldn’t change that, because we get this one life and I want to feel it, and I want to help people, and I want to be here and make a difference. And I think this is my way, and this has been my calling.

WM: As you mentioned, feelings probably don’t come up in the locker room often. What advice would you give to men who are still apprehensive about discussing their mental health or seeking professional help? 

ST: First of all, I would like to say in the locker room we have started to talk about it! We have a corner in the Jets locker room—it’s an older vet group, guys that know my story—and we’ll talk about therapy. And sometimes the younger guys come around and they’ll start listening. So [we’re doing our best] to change the status quo of locker room talk. 

But, to answer the question, for men, I just try to tell ’em: Hey, there’s no shame in talking about your feelings. There’s no weakness in being vulnerable. There’s no weakness in being sensitive or being able to feel. We always talk about being strong, tough men and being masculine, and we want all those things. If you just go through your day and tell someone you’re fine all day—that’s easy. That’s not strength. But how hard is it for a man to go to someone and tell them how they’re feeling? That is strength, that is real vulnerability. That is real power. So I try to tell guys, if you want to be that strong man, you talk about these things. We have these hard conversations. 

Part of being the man that guys talk about all the time is being the best. And if you want to be your best self, you have to know yourself the best. And the best way that I know how to do that is through therapy. You learn: Why do I like these things? Why do I feel these things? How do I put it into words, how do I talk about these things? You get to know yourself so well. 

Another thing that I tell guys is, from an athlete perspective, when I was going through that dark time in San Francisco after my sister died, I wasn’t playing well. I didn’t really care about playing. I was still giving my all, but things weren’t working out. Then I started going to therapy, started getting help, and my mind cleared up. And when that did, I started playing better. My body was moving faster, more explosive, stronger. If you know anything about the NFL season, it’s really treacherous. It’s really hard. There’s no way you can get bigger, faster, stronger during the season. But by just clearing my mind and clearing my mental health, I was able to do that. 

WM: In the years since your sister’s passing, what have you learned about grief and how to navigate it?  

ST: Grief is such an interesting, weird, and crazy thing. I like to describe it like I have this hole in my heart and it’s never going to go away. My mom always says grief is like a wave. You ride the wave for a little bit, then it crashes again, and then you ride it for a little bit, then it crashes again. You don’t get to control grief. It will come and hit you in phases at any time. You never know what’s going to hit you. 

I carry my sister’s death with me a lot better now, six years later, but there’s days that it hurts like it’s day one all over again. I used to run from these feelings of sadness, depression, anger around her death, the anger of missing her, the guilt around missing her, the guilt around learning what to do later and all this stuff. But I learned when I ran from that, I let Ella actually die, and that killed me. But when I accepted those feelings and I felt them, I was able to connect with her. I was able to see what she went through and learn her journey and learn more about her—even though she’s not even here anymore. And that, to me, was the most powerful thing. I was able to feel her still be here. I was able to keep her spirit alive. 

When I cry, I feel like I’m honoring her. I feel like I’m letting her know, “Hey, I miss you and I want you here.” Or when I’m angry about it, I’m just letting her know, “Hey, I’m just frustrated. You’re not here, but I’m going to keep living for you.” 

I don’t know if I call it a coping mechanism, but accepting these feelings is huge for my grief journey and keeping Ella alive with me. 

WM: What is one aspect of your mental health that still feels like a work in progress? 

ST: I would say consistency, but also I would say self-talk. I’m very proud of how much my self-talk has gotten better, but it’s still a theme in therapy. My therapist reminds me all the time, “Hey, why are you judging yourself right now? Why are you judging 8-year-old Solomon? And I’m like, dang, I really am. I need to be nicer to myself. 

I think it’s something we all do—especially people who are in high-performance and high-competitive lifestyles. We’re very hard on ourselves. I can be hard on myself and push myself, but I can also love myself through it. So working on that and not judging myself is something that I’m definitely working on hard right now.

WM: Speaking of 8-year-old Solomon, what advice do you wish you could go back and give your younger self? 

ST: I think the biggest thing that I should have told my 8-year-old self is to love myself unconditionally. I don’t believe I really loved myself until two years ago. I’ve made this habit: the first thing I write in my journal, no matter what I’m writing, is: I love myself unconditionally. Because I went through such a hard time of judging myself, not loving my appearance, whether it’s body dysmorphia, not liking the way I look, not liking the way I make friends or how I feel alone and weird. 

So just to love myself unconditionally and to be authentically and unapologetically Solomon Thomas, however that comes. There’s one me, and I’m unique and great in my own way, and I should love that about myself. I feel like that would have helped me out a lot when I was younger, whether it was moving around and feeling like I couldn’t make friends or feeling weird and awkward, but also to understand that weirdness and awkwardness that I’m feeling makes me who I am and to love that about myself. 

WM: The NFL has been focusing a lot more on mental health recently. As someone in the mental health advocacy space, what do you think they’re doing right, and what would you like them to do more of? 

ST: I’m very proud of the NFL. Three or four years ago, they put out an NFL initiative where they put more funding into making sure players can get therapy, that their family members can get help, and that there are more resources and clinicians available. I’m very proud of them for that. And also, this past year, they’ve been picking up more of The Defensive Line’s work and other foundations, like Dak Prescott’s foundation, Faith Fight Finish. And for the Super Bowl commercials, there was a big mental health push in those as well. So I’m very thankful for that. But I do think the NFL definitely does need to do a better job in a lot of ways. And the first way I’ll say is educating these coaches and the GMs [general managers] and the guys who are making the decisions.

A lot of us now are getting more in tune with our mental health and accepting it, but a lot of the people who are not OK with it are the people who are supposed to be the mentors, the heads of the building making decisions. And I do feel like that plays a role in decision making or small things throughout the season. And I feel that has guys being reluctant to ask for help or to go to the clinician. And I think that’s a mentality that needs to change. The coaches, GMs, player personnel owners need to be educated a lot more and understand that, hey, we’re human beings. I know this is a business, but also you need to care about us in that aspect too. If I’m the owner, if I’m a GM, if I want my team to be the best, I want them to be the best human beings and people, because, like I said, this mental health/physical health connection makes you the best athlete possible. 

Past that, I don’t think enough is done [for guys after they’re done playing]. The game of football—we all know, it’s no secret—it affects our brain and it affects our brain health. And then that affects our mental health and how we act. There needs to be more education and push for players when they’re done playing to make sure they stay on top of their blood work and vitals to see how their chemistry is changing. There needs to be more funding for guys to get therapy and get these mental health resources after they’re done playing. 

Because when we’re done playing, life’s going to get a lot harder, or we’re going to have identity issues, we’re going to not know what to do. We might have financial issues, physical issues, all these things. And this is when we need the mental health help the most, because we lose way too many players. It’s been really unfortunate. We lose way too many players when they’re done playing to these issues—you could call it whatever you want, you could call at CTE [chronic traumatic encephalopathy], you could call it lifestyle choices, but it all stems down to taking care of your mental health. And it’s a big problem. I’m proud of the league, but there is a long way we need to go, and I’m going to do my best to make sure I help the league in any way I can.

WM: What else would you like to share with our readers who might be going through a hard time right now? 

ST: It may seem super dark, but there is a small light of hope in the dark storm you’re going through. And I would say to hold onto that light, to love yourself through it, to know that you’re not alone. You’re not crazy for feeling the way you’re feeling. Honor your feelings, honor your emotions, you’re feeling them for a reason, and you’re not crazy for feeling them. 

Just understand that it’s OK not to be OK. It’s OK to feel the way you’re feeling. You’re not going to feel this forever. Things will get better. You are loved and you’re needed to stay here on this Earth. I always like ending with that, because there are too many people out there who are feeling those things right now and who feel like the only way out is to leave. And we need them to stay, because Earth needs them here.

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

The post Solomon Thomas Is Talking About His Feelings in the Locker Room appeared first on Wondermind.

Pro Tips Link Copied 01.18.24

5 Therapist Tips for Men Who Basically Have No Close Friends

No shame if you need to bookmark this. ByJay Deitcher

Building deep friendships isn’t easy for anyone, but when you’re a cisgender, heterosexual man, getting emotionally close to a friend might seem especially tricky. If you can relate, welcome to the club. Many of us struggle to create compassionate, vulnerable friendships—especially with other dudes. 

You should know this isn’t a personal failure though. In reality, the scarcity of close friendships among guys is likely a result of subscribing to a culture that’s historically valued stoicism and individualism in men, says psychologist Henry Ortiz, PsyD. 

Until very recently, pop culture portrayed the ideal cis straight man as a glorified loner who stifles emotions. He’s a provider who pulls himself up by his bootstraps and would never admit he cares for others or wants their attention. He’s a dude who prefers to get rowdy, watch sports, and brag about dominating others at work and in bed. 

Even if you don’t buy into that brand of toxic masculinity and know that close, platonic relationships would benefit your life, you might worry that trying to connect with other men on a deeper level sets you up to be made fun of. Oftentimes, other men are afraid to admit they want this kind of support too, says psychotherapist and life coach Corey Yeager, PhD. Many of us have been trained through our interactions with peers (“you’re too sensitive”) to keep things surface-level with other guys. It can feel a lot safer than breaking social norms. 

So we end up sticking to the status quo: We pretend everything is fine or focus on general life updates, sports, and great movies in social situations. And we don’t leave much room for conversations that start with, “My family is exhausting me,” or “My boss is toxic.” 

But having supportive buds improves our lives and makes us feel good. “We’re social animals,” Dr. Ortiz says. “Relationships give us a sense of belonging.” If you’re open and honest about what’s going on in your life, a close friend can serve as the first line of defense when you’re struggling, Dr. Yeager says. They allow you to release some of the anxiety or other uncomfy emotions caused by your everyday struggles, he adds. 

If you’re up for fostering deep friendships, here are five therapist-backed tips for building a stronger inner circle and challenging the cultural norm around male friendships. 

1. Sift through your existing friendships.

Even though you may feel alone, odds are you’ve got at least a few friends who’d be willing to go deeper with you. To find them, you’ll need to do a quick audit to get a sense of who you’ve outgrown (your high school mutual friend), who might be better as a surface-level connection (your new work buddy), and who has close friend potential. 

Fact is, you can’t have a deep friendship with everyone in your life—and acquaintances are still important. But if you have at least one guy in your life you can trust and share intimate details with, that’s your sign he could become a closer friend, Dr. Yeager adds. 

To kick off your audit, think about each person and whether your values and interests align. Do their problematic social media posts make you cringe? Do they make you feel insecure? Do you feel like you don’t have much in common? Those are signs this friendship isn’t a great place for growth, explains Dr. Ortiz. 

The people you could get closer to are the ones who inspire you to be better. They might be the guys who already know intimate details about your past, who have overcome similar struggles, or who share similar dreams. 

Overall, the goal is to find a healthy mix of acquaintances, surface-level pals, and close friends to bring balance to your life and help you feel more connected and less lonely.

2. Create opportunities to broaden your circle.

If you need to go out and make new friends from scratch, put yourself in settings that will prompt interactions with people who hold whatever traits you respect and value. It can be at the library if you want a crew that’s well-read, a social club if you want them to be outgoing, an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting if you want them to live a sober lifestyle, or a volunteer program if you want them to be empathetic. You could also hit up the gym, a professional meetup, a concert, or a game. 

At the end of the day, many of us are more isolated than we care to admit, so let that give you confidence to spread your wings. It may be uncomfortable to strike up conversations with people you don’t know, but it all starts with asking someone how they’re doing, Dr. Yeager says. 

If the chit-chat is flowing with another dude, throw out an invite to chill down the line, saying, “Man, I’d love to hear more about your work.” You could even ask, “Down to catch the next game together? or “Wanna keep talking over some pizza?” It’s not wildly different from dating, but admitting you want to hang out again takes courage, especially in a society that tells men they aren’t supposed to seek platonic companionship, Dr. Yeager says. So give yourself some grace if you’re nervous, feel ashamed, or even strike out a few times.

3. Cultivate the friendship you want. 

When you aren’t used to being so open and don’t know how someone will react, try to embrace vulnerability and let the good dudes know you appreciate them and want to spend more time with them, Dr. Ortiz says. By doing that, you’re basically exemplifying the kind of friend you’d like them to be in return. From there, see who responds in a positive way and who doesn’t. That’ll enable you to foster the friendships with the most potential.

Try texting someone, asking, “What’s up? Anything decent going on this weekend?” which tells them that you’re thinking about them even if they didn’t expect you to. The friends who get back to you in caring ways are the ones you can grow closer to. 

That said, there’s a fine line between pushing too hard and not pushing enough, Dr. Yeager says. Obviously, you don’t want to keep texting someone who didn’t reply to your first message. We’re not trying to love bomb our new friend or make them think we have nothing better to do. If you don’t get a response, wait a few days before checking in again, perhaps with a suggestion of what you guys could do when you hang so they know what they’re signing up for. You’re giving them space without letting the friendship vibes fizzle out. 

4. Test the waters by talking about your feelings.  

Don’t worry, you can ease into being vulnerable, Dr. Ortiz says. If you meet a bud to watch pro wrestling, don’t unload every trauma you’ve ever been through on them mid-match. Instead, share a little something that’s been bothering you during commercials or during the worst match. If that feels strange, you can even address the elephant in the room and preface the convo by saying something like, “I hope you don’t think it’s weird to open up about things like this, but I could use someone to talk to. I’m stressing about _____, and I value your opinion.” 

Then, wait for their reaction and remember that not every dude will handle this well. Still that doesn’t mean you should abandon all hope of having meaningful friendships. “The ones who respond poorly are probably not the folks that you want to have as close friends anyway,” Dr. Ortiz says. 

If they respond to you putting yourself out there in a meh way, you could say you think guys should be able to talk about their feelings with their friends—or how it sucks that more dudes don’t think that they can. You could even turn it into a joke, asking them if every guy is supposed to just watch sports and scratch their balls all day.

If your friend doesn’t have the capacity to question the ways society has boxed them in or hold space for you, change the subject. If they get defensive or rude, say, “I think I better go,” and make your exit. When you replay these convos later on in your mind, remember that you’re not out of pocket for wanting more support.

Now, if someone responds in a way that makes you feel seen by asking questions about your situation and listening with compassion, that’s a great sign this friendship has the qualities you’re looking for, Dr. Ortiz says.

5. Stay positive and accept that rejection is part of the game.

If your buddy doesn’t return your call, you may assume you messed up by opening up to them or you were too sensitive—but try not to make negative assumptions like that, Dr. Yeager encourages. Though you might feel weird about vulnerability now, it’s a positive step toward building a solid connection over the long term. Also, there are plenty of reasons why they didn’t respond in a way that reassured you that you’re good. Maybe their life is an actual shitshow. 

The other truth is: Not everyone is meant to be your friend, and not every friendship is meant to last forever, Dr. Yeager says. If a connection doesn’t happen, it’s not a reflection of you or your personality. “It’s really about, does [this friendship] fit for both parties? And is the timing right for both parties? If the answer to any part of that is no, then it just may not work,” he says. 

To ease any sense of rejection, keep in mind that “even if it doesn’t work out, [you] get to apply what you learned to the next friendship,” Dr. Yeager adds. Trust, there are plenty of other folks who would love to be your friend.

The post 5 Therapist Tips for Men Who Basically Have No Close Friends appeared first on Wondermind.

Q&A Link Copied 04.21.23

How Echo Kellum Learned to Love Himself

The ‘Grand Crew’ actor gives us a glimpse inside his mind. ByShannon Barbour

On NBC’s Grand Crew sitcom, Echo Kellum plays Noah, a hopeless romantic who is never not daydreaming about his perfect happily ever after and is a little hesitant about trying therapy despite his friends’ encouragement. But in real life, the actor and musician is well on his way with this whole mental health, self-love thing. 

“Mental health is paramount to being a fully fledged, well-adjusted human being,” he tells Wondermind. “To think that you can take care of everything life throws at you on your own … I think most people need a little help and a little guidance, and it can really open up a ton of doors and a ton of different perspectives in life.” 

It might sound like Kellum has it all figured out, but he’s definitely been on a journey to get to this headspace, and it involved adolescent challenges and a breakup that left him wondering who he is when he’s not wrapped up in someone else’s life. 

Here, Kellum opens up about how his upbringing influences his mental health today, how he started to find his true self, and the importance of ditching mental health stigma. 

[Sign up here to never miss these candid conversations delivered straight to your inbox.]

WM: How are you doing lately? 

Echo Kellum: I’m doing pretty well. I accept all that life gives, the good and the bad. I realize that you can’t have light without dark and that life is a constant flow of waves, different highs and lows. But for the most part, I’m doing pretty well. I love that I get to do what I do. I love my family. I love my friends. I feel very blessed and fortunate, so I always try to take stock of that and look at where I am.

WM: What moments in your mental health journey stand out to you?

EK: About four years ago, I had a breakup that made me take stock of where I was mentally and where I wanted to be for myself. I was very a codependent person, and I tended to live through my partners a lot of times. When this breakup happened, I started asking myself the question: What makes me happy? Not someone else happy, just what makes me happy in my own bare state with no distractions or any input from anyone else. 

I started really delving into hobbies that I didn’t really know I loved. [When] I started experimenting, trying different things like backpacking, camping, and photography, it really did open up a space for me mentally. That, on top of the fact that I was definitely seeing a therapist and unpacking the week-to-week aspect of my hurt and trying to get over this relationship.

That was really a big point in my life where mentally I started to finally lean into my own self and do things that made me happy and try to live honestly through that perspective of taking care of my self-love and self. [That] really helped me get to a place where I am today and has me being a more complete version of myself.

WM: What’s one of the best ways you’ve found to open up and have honest conversations with the people in your life?

EK: The juxtaposition of having a serious in-depth conversation when you’re killing people on Call of Duty or just farming on Red Dead [on Xbox Live with my friends], it’s very interesting. But honestly, I feel like we get into some of the most complex conversations a lot of times because we’re just really being ourselves and really pushing each other to be better. It’s almost like being on a playground again for adults because we’d still get into these conversations when we were playing football on the playground. So it’s like we still play games or NBA 2K or whatever, but then we’ll be talking about the situation with Xi Jinping and Vladamir Putin. 

And a lot of my friends on Xbox Live I’ve known since I was 9 years old, so there are a lot of ways that we still connect and converse, but I feel like it’s always helpful because they give it to me very real—they don’t gas me up. We have very candid conversations, so it’s always nice to hear different perspectives from them.

WM: You’ve spoken a little bit about growing up in an impoverished community. Do you think that continues to impact your mental health today? 

EK: It’s certainly impacted my work ethic in a sense of sometimes finances can be very triggering for me because of coming up in a very poor community and not having food at certain times. So I’ve definitely had to sacrifice. I’ve had to sacrifice to make sure that I was able to provide differently for my children and for my family and able to help out more ways and not have us start off from zero at every generation. Those kinds of things are in my brain constantly. 

But I’m certainly not a person who covets fancy things. I mean, I like nice things, but I’m not a person who covets them. I was staying in a studio apartment with my best friend for five years—even when I was on two series. I didn’t get serious money and then think, Oh, got to get a nice car. I think what’s cool about [what I’ve been through] is I don’t need much to be happy because of where I come from. I’m very appreciative of even having a little, but I definitely strive to get to a better place for my family in a lot of ways. 

WM: What was the process of finding a therapist like for you?

EK: If I can speak very candidly about mental health in this country, it feels very difficult in a lot of ways. I’ve had to find therapists for different people in my family and for myself, and it is sometimes an arduous process because not everyone takes your insurance or these people need a specific thing or approvals or this and that. Aid is way too hard to find [for] mental health in this country—way too difficult. 

But I’ve been thankful to find people who I do gel with. One of my therapists for a long time was a person I had as a relationship therapist years and years ago, but I just really loved her perspective. I loved that she knew me and definitely would call all the strikes and balls and knew when I was on my tip. She was always really nice at keeping me honest, essentially. But she had a nice bedside manner. Even if I messed up, it was just like, I’m human. It wasn’t like, “Darn you!” I know some therapists can be pretty harsh, but I was very thankful to have someone that I trusted from a past relationship. She’s been my therapist for a few years now, and I’m very thankful to have her. 

WM: What’s one of the most surprising things you’ve learned in therapy?

EK: From a person who had never done it growing up, it was very helpful to unpack and talk about things or just to be heard a lot of times. Sometimes I just want to share whatever’s on my chest or weighing me down.

I’ve learned a lot about myself, especially in terms of how I treat myself, the work I needed to do to really empower myself and lean into my self-love, the work I needed to do to really allow certain energies in my life, and to lean into different books or teachings of different people, whether it’s Brené Brown or whatever. 

To also be able to name some of the things that I didn’t know had names and actual aspects in therapy that you can work through, whether it was catastrophizing or codependency or any of these things, just being able to actually define them has been really helpful as well.

For me, therapy’s always been a journey of self-love. I think growing up in an impoverished community and going through some of the things I went through in high school, I grew up never feeling good enough. I always had a lot of self-doubt or self-love issues growing up, and that’s been one of the things therapy’s really helped me get a grip on or see myself in a different light or see the person in the mirror and love what I see as opposed to being like, Oh my God, is he good enough? 

WM: What do you love about yourself today?

EK: My sense of humor, my adventurous spirit, my kindness—and not looking at that as a weakness. I mean, just loving my artistry, loving things that I might see as imperfections, being OK with the human experience, getting past certain things of loss or death or hardships in life. I don’t know how I would be where I am today if it were not for different therapists and people helping me in really dark times and not-so-dark times too.

WM: Are there any stigmas or misconceptions about mental health that you hope to dismantle?

EK: I feel like in the past, people look at going to a therapist like, What’s wrong with you? Ooh, something in your head off? You’re crazy, or things like that as opposed to just looking at it as a tool to help us navigate life and to navigate how we view it and think of ourselves. What’s important to me is helping people see the benefits of it, to see that it is something that adds to your life as opposed to making you seem broken or like you need work. We all need work; we all need help; we all need guidance. 

It’s definitely been stigmatized, especially amongst men of color, to feel like you’re weak if you’re doing these things. But therapy is a form of strength. Saying you need help or saying you don’t have all the answers, that’s a form of strength. It’s a form of being honest, and that’s the only way you can fix something. It’s the only way you can change course on something. 

WM: What’s the best mental health advice you’ve ever received?

EK: I’ve had a tendency to catastrophize moments in my life or want to speed it up, but the perspective of this too shall pass, take it day by day, breathe in the moment, that’s been a really helpful thing to me. It’s helped me slow down, take stock of where I am, and have context to know that whatever I’m going through, it could always be worse. 

Funny enough, there’s a saying that’s hit the zeitgeist now, but this saying is so brilliant to me. It really is so smart in a way. But the saying, “It be like that sometimes,” just to be like, “Life is life, man.” We just gotta keep pushing through. 

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity. 

The post How Echo Kellum Learned to Love Himself appeared first on Wondermind.

Q&A Link Copied 04.14.23

Tay and Taylor Lautner Are Great at Talking About Their Feelings

The couple gets candid about fear, stress, and embracing vulnerability. ByCasey Gueren

If you can believe it, there’s something even more charming about husband and wife Taylor Lautner and Taylor (Tay) Lautner than their shared name. It’s the way they open up about their mental health journeys—to each other, friends, and even sometimes complete strangers like me—with ease, vulnerability and a total lack of ego. 

They’re doing a whole lot of that lately on their new podcast, The Squeeze, where the couple gets emotionally deep with guests like Alyson Stoner and Emmanuel Acho. They’re also getting into the mental health space with a blog (LEMONS by Tay) and a nonprofit (The Lemons Foundation). Who doesn’t love a theme?    

The podcast is proving to be deeply healing for two people who have dealt with significant stress from their careers—Tay, as a nurse on the frontlines of the Covid pandemic, and Taylor, as an actor whose early start in entertainment (not to mention Twilight-mania) led to huge successes and equally huge pressure. 

“It has been very cathartic,” says Taylor. “Honestly, we say it all the time, it’s like free therapy.”

Here, Tay and Taylor share the moments that changed the way they think about mental health and how they got so good at talking about their feelings. 

WM: What emoji best describes your mental health right now? 

Tay: I think mine would be the upside down happy face. 

Taylor: Explain. 

Tay: I shall. Because I’m happy and things are great, but we’re just in a very busy season. So everything is good, everything’s going great, but it’s just stressful. So it’s, “I’m happy, but I’m slightly stressed.”

Taylor: That’s a good one. Mine was the salute one. Why am I feeling that? If the salute emoji was smiling, that would be my emoji. Because yeah, I’m happy. I feel good. But there’s a lot going on right now. It’s not a super stressed out salute, it’s a happy salute. We’re all very blessed.

WM: You’re both so open about your mental health journeys, but when did that start for each of you? When was the first time you remember having to think about your own mental health? 

Tay: I definitely think my own would be while I was working in the hospital as a Covid nurse. That was such a heightened time when no one really knew what to do or how to handle it or how to process it. So when I felt myself kind of just dissociating and removing myself altogether from every aspect of life, I realized that—well, actually, I didn’t even notice it. Taylor actually brought it to my attention. 

He was just kind of like, “Hey, are you OK?” And I was like, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired.” I was working the night shift and it was just a lot picking up extra shifts because we were short-staffed. And he was like, “No, but are you actually OK?” And I was just like, “Oh, that’s a good question. I don’t know.” And the conversation just ended there. But that was kind of the first time—I’d say that was January of 2021—that I really, truly had to look at myself and be like, OK, we need to start figuring out what’s going on here.

Taylor: I feel like both of our mental health journeys maybe didn’t start at the same time but were addressed near the same time. I think it kind of took each other to feel comfortable enough talking about it and having somebody to talk about it with. I think whatever I deal with—I’m still very much in the mix of it today—but I think it starts from an early age. Starting in the entertainment industry when I was 8 years old and just growing up with that life and everything that comes with it, and not talking about it, not speaking about anything, and just thinking that all that is normal. I think it took finding Tay, along with amazing friends that we have in our lives, to really start diving deep and having honest conversations about why we do certain things.

WM: What’s made the biggest impact on your mental health? 

Tay: Something that I’ve really learned is that I need alone time and I need quiet time. I definitely think that stems from me being an only child, which I recently just discovered. I think I need to be by myself to process things and just to have time to myself. It was just always me by myself growing up. So I’m used to quiet time. I’m used to just sitting in my room doing things by myself. And I’m so fortunate that we do get to spend so much time together, but it’s important for the healthiness of our relationship and for myself that I do take time to be alone—go work from wherever today, go get coffee by myself, go get out of the house, have some alone time for my brain. 

Taylor: For me, I think the biggest thing is just starting to talk about it. I wasn’t purposefully not talking about it, I just never really was introduced to the idea of talking about it. And I think what helps that a lot is finding people—friends, family, a loved one, whatever—that you feel comfortable enough with to be your true, authentic self and trust. And also those people that will hold you accountable, that aren’t just “yes” people. People that will challenge you and they love you enough and care for you enough to hold you to it and challenge you to be a better version of yourself. I think that is probably the biggest difference-maker in my life.

WM: What part of your mental health still feels like a work in progress? 

Tay: I think all of it. We’ve been talking about this a lot on The Squeeze and just personally between us. With healing, I feel like a lot of things come to the surface. … So I think it’s just honestly not wanting to quit, if that makes sense? I mean, luckily we do have a mental health podcast and a nonprofit and a blog so we can’t really do that, because that is my job. But in all seriousness, it’s definitely hard. You gotta rip the Band-Aid off, but then the healing process is that you have to keep healing and open those doors that are scary and learn how to organize them and make them pretty or deal with that.

You get more comfortable talking about things, but it’s still hard some days to bring stuff up. You get more used to it, for sure.

Taylor: During the hard days, during the tough days, it’s not something you’re excited to talk about. And probably the worst thing you can do is keep just shoving it down and down. So yeah, just staying resilient.

WM: You’ve both dealt with significant stress from your careers. How did you learn to cope with that? 

Tay: Specifically talking about my career as a nurse, I think maybe it would be just accepting and learning. I make humor a very big thing. My therapist, I’ll laugh with him, and he is like, “No, what you went through is a big deal.” Because I always end it with, “But it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s OK.” And he’s like, “No, you need to understand and accept that what you went through was hard.” And I don’t like doing that. I like to just brush things under the rug. And he’s like, “You need to fully address this. Understand and know and believe that what you went through is hard and what you’re feeling is valid.” 

Taylor: Yeah. I don’t even know where to start for me, to be honest. I’ve talked on the podcast about body image and how that’s been something for me to work through. So that’s definitely been one of the bigger things. I think another thing is just living up to expectations. When the bar is set so high, by you or by strangers, you can’t help but feel the pressure to live up to those expectations. And a lot of times, those expectations are nearly impossible to reach. And then when you don’t reach them, you feel like a failure. And I think that is definitely something that I have had to deal with. And it really used to get to me, so much so that I would be like, “I’m done. I want to be done. I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth my mental health.”

But the problem is I was putting value in a place that it shouldn’t be. And it’s taken a long time, years, to figure out for myself that that doesn’t deserve those expectations, those opinions. That doesn’t deserve my time and my energy and my value. We find value where we put it, and I had to shift where I was putting my value, and now I’m in a much healthier place. But I think that was a huge thing for me. Starting this at such a young age and accomplishing amazing things at such a young age. It’s like, Well, where do I go now from here? And then if you don’t reach that again, I was feeling like I was failing. But it’s like, I’m not failing. I’ve done amazing things in my life, and there’s so much more I can do. But you gotta put the value in the right place, and that’s definitely been a journey for me.

WM: How did you get over that fear around failing or not knowing what comes next? 

Taylor: I definitely lived in fear. I still do, but not nearly as much as I used to. I was living in a ton of fear of: Am I going to do the wrong thing? Am I going to make the wrong choice? Am I going to offend or upset or disappoint people? So living in fear was definitely a huge thing for me personally, and having to shift the way that I thought. 

Fear can really hold you back from some amazing things, or you can use it to drive you. I’ve had multiple things in my life that I was terrified of doing and my instant gut reaction was to be like, “No, I can’t do that. No, I’m going to fail.” And it just terrified me. And I pushed myself, or somebody helped push me to do it, and it ended up being one of the best experiences in my life. And I was like, “Thank goodness I did that. I can’t imagine if I didn’t.” So yeah, fear is a tricky thing for me because it’s about finding that balance to not let it control you and dictate you, but use it in a good way, because fear can be helpful as well.

WM: Tay, how did the fear and stress that you experienced as a nurse impact how you show up for yourself? 

Tay: The nursing field is very much [like] you just go, you just do. Especially during the time of Covid. It was like, “Oh, I can’t go to the bathroom for seven hours. OK. Oh, I haven’t had a break to eat in nine. OK.” Because there was no time.

People’s lives were on the line, and you just go. You don’t look back. You just do it. And I’ve seen that kind of transition into my life at home—just the constant go, go, go. And I have such a hard time sitting. Even when I’m cleaning, I’m like, Oh, I’ll grab this and I’ll move this there, and I’ll do this with that. When I go downstairs, I can only make one trip. Just critical thinking constantly in my brain. Now being removed from that—and even in the hospital when I was still working but Covid slowed down—really just learning to set boundaries was a very big thing for me.

Because I am a “yes” girl. I will tend to everyone’s needs before mine. I’m a 2 on the Enneagram. I am a helper. That is very much me to my core. And I honestly feel like it has taught me to be selfish, for lack of a better term. Just be selfish with my time. Obviously, I say that lightly. But I don’t need to go pick up an extra shift for the third time this week. It’s my day off. I need to rest for myself. And now, being out of the hospital and just putting that into everyday life, [I’m] learning to just be like, “No, I actually need that rest day.”

WM: As a couple who hosts a mental health podcast together, you make it look easy to talk about tricky topics. Have you always been this open with each other about your feelings? 

Tay: I think we’ve definitely both had to learn it. I feel like we’re very fortunate in the sense that we both started our mental health journey at the same time. We both started learning about ourselves and started to open up to each other—not for the first time, but about, “Hey, I think I’m depressed,” or the actual heavy stuff. Obviously we’re best friends and we tell each other everything, but really getting into the thick of our mental health, we kind of got to do together. 

It’s been a blessing, but it also has been hard to not take it personally or [think], Oh, why can’t I make them happier? Or things like that. And just learning: Hey, this journey that Taylor’s on, me loving him more than anything, it has nothing to do with me. It is him on his journey, me on my journey. So that’s been something that we’ve learned together and just how to be there for the other when we need it. Some days I wake up and I’m like, “I’m having one of those days,” and I don’t get out of bed. And Taylor, I think the first time that happened, he was probably like, “What is wrong with you?”

Taylor: Yeah, she’s definitely talking more about me with everything she just said. I feel like I’ve had a harder time understanding that when you’re having one of those days or you’re going through whatever, it doesn’t have anything to do with me. It doesn’t mean I’m failing as a husband. It doesn’t mean that I’m not doing my job to make her feel better. That’s been the hard part about working together with this—or just being married or having a relationship with somebody. 

It took me a bit to be able to cope with the idea that, OK, if she’s sad, I can’t just snap my fingers and make her feel better. I can do a song and dance for you, but it’s not magic. So sometimes it is just important to be there for them. And if she says, “I don’t feel great today.” It’s like, “OK, that’s fine. I’ll pick up the slack and do whatever I can.” And then when she’s feeling better, we’ll move forward with life. But not taking offense or feeling like a failure for not making you feel better definitely was something that was more challenging for me to grasp.

WM: What mental health advice do you wish you could go back and tell your younger self? 

Tay: I would tell myself to just trust myself and truly to be confident in who I am. Because now sitting here today, I’m confident in who I am and I just love the person that I am. And I think I’m chugging along here doing pretty well. So I think I would just tell myself to keep trusting in myself.

Taylor: I’m not one of those, “when you know, you know,” and love-at-first-sight type of people, but it’s kind of true. I just would go back and tell myself, “Go through all the life experiences.” And if we didn’t each have our previous relationships and everything we’ve learned, then we wouldn’t be who we are today with each other. I think that is really important. But I don’t think you should put stress on yourself for, “Why haven’t I met that person, settled down, X, Y, and Z?”

You will know. And it’s going to feel right because you’re going to feel respected and you’re going to feel loved, and it’s a different kind of love and respect. And if you’re not being treated that way, it’s probably not the right time. Just be patient for that, because nothing’s better than it. And yeah, I would just tell myself: Go through all the life experiences, learn everything. Take that with you, and grow. But don’t put pressure on yourself. You don’t know the timing of when you’re supposed to settle down or find the perfect person, but you’ll know. And it’s a great feeling. 

WM: What mental health misconception do you want to put to bed forever? 

Taylor: Getting rid of the weakness idea. Men’s mental health has been something that [Tay is] passionate about. Having not only Tay, but close male friends in my life that I feel totally open and able to be vulnerable with—there’s nothing more impactful than that. And not having anybody make you feel weak for talking about it or feeling sad or whatever. Honestly, if you can do that, it’s strength.

Tay: Yeah, men’s mental health is very big to me because, growing up, I had a lot of people in my life struggle with mental health, whether it be addiction or bipolar disorder. I lost a friend to suicide. And they were all males. And I found myself, somewhat recently, kind of looking at that and being like, What’s that saying? The proof is in the pudding. That is showing that this men’s mental health thing, this is an actual thing. We need to genuinely start talking about it. And it’s been really cool to see Taylor and our close guy friends be vulnerable with each other. It’s so attractive to me when Taylor is like, “Hey, I’m kind of feeling like this.” When he opens up to me, I’m like, “Oh my gosh, this is great.”

Taylor: Oh, she loves nothing more than a dinner date where we just talk about our feelings the whole time.

WM: Any advice for people who are nervous to open up about their mental health with their partner? 

Tay: Taylor makes it easy for me to open up because I feel so safe and respected. And I know that, in saying something, I’m not going to be judged. So I think that has been something that has made it easier. Finding a partner, finding a friend, finding a therapist, someone that loves you unconditionally and you can go to, who isn’t going to judge you for whatever you’re about to say. 

But also, I can guarantee you, whatever you’re about to say sounds worse in your head than it will to the person you’re saying it to. Just find that person. The first time’s going to be hard or rough, or you’re not going to get your thoughts out. Maybe write them down before you go into that conversation. Or you can write it down and give it to them in a letter form. I’ve definitely done that before because I’ve had to learn to use my words. Talking does not come easy to me. Which is funny because, why do I have a podcast? 

Taylor: I think judgment is a huge thing. I believe love is one of the greatest gifts that you can receive and also one of the greatest, if not the greatest, gift you can give. Love is powerful and it’s hard to love with judgment, because we all have our own stuff. Nobody is perfect. And as soon as you accept that and realize that judgment is a dangerous thing—I mean, you want to talk about something that’s bad for your own mental health? Judging others. Constantly judging others is exhausting and horrible for your own mental health. So as soon as we can put love way up here and judgment way, way down here, it’s going to fix a lot of things. 

If you love somebody, if you truly love somebody, then judgment doesn’t really exist because you love who that person is no matter what. It’s been a beautiful thing to experience with Tay and all of our close friends and family. It’s powerful. 

The post Tay and Taylor Lautner Are Great at Talking About Their Feelings appeared first on Wondermind.

Q&A Link Copied 03.15.23

How This Male Model Healed From Being Publicly Body-Shamed

Kelvin Davis is all about focusing on what his body can do, not how it looks. ByShannon Barbour

After being body shamed while shopping in 2011, model Kelvin Davis set out to create a fashion blog that would highlight confidence at any size and help others embrace their beauty. “I was doing it, honestly, out of the pure consciousness of: I don’t feel good about myself because of this situation that happened. Now, I’m starting to feel better about myself, so I’m going to use what I’ve learned to try to help others that may have been in the same boat,” he tells Wondermind of the mission behind his blog, Notoriously Dapper. 

Davis’ online presence took shape before the body positivity movement really caught on, and he’s since used his platform to spread positivity and break down harmful ideals around masculinity. Here, Davis checks in with Wondermind to talk about building up his confidence after that shopping trip, the importance of men’s mental health, and making time for gratitude. 

[Sign up here to never miss these candid conversations delivered straight to your inbox.]

WM: How are you doing lately?

Kelvin Davis: I’m doing pretty well lately. I’ve been doing a lot of work to exercise more empathy in my life, and I’ve been trying to take care of myself as best as I can mentally by lowering the expectations on myself.

WM: What does exercising more empathy look like for you?

KD: I have an 11-year-old daughter, [and I’m] trying to empathize with what she’s going through and how she feels about certain things, and understanding that something that may seem silly to me is super serious to her. [I’m] trying to reason on that level and give space and not be so brash and like, “Well, you really shouldn’t be worried about that.” … So I’ve been asking, “Are you asking for advice, or do you just want me to listen?”

WM: You’re a body-positive influencer and advocate. Can you tell me about how tapping into that outlook helped your confidence and mental health?

KD: I was publicly body-shamed around 2011, when I first graduated from college. I got my first art teaching job, and I went to go get some new clothes, and there wasn’t anything in the store that really fit me. I asked for some larger sizes in a couple of items, and one of the sales associates told me that I was too fat to shop there. It was my first time as a guy being publicly body-shamed. I know my mother’s been through it, [and] I know many women that have been through it. That feeling, I just could not shake.

I wanted to create a solution for it, and my only solution at that time was for me to make a body-positive fashion blog. I’ve always been into fashion, but I wanted an underlying meaning to what my fashion blog was—I didn’t want to post cool outfits with no context or without a strong basis.

Body positivity was my way of not only showing the world that I could be confident no matter how I look, but it’s also giving that confidence to other people and letting them know you don’t have to feed into the societal standard of what people deem as beauty. You’re beautiful just the way that you are, and I’m going to depict that when I post pictures.

WM: What other steps did you take to help you heal from being body-shamed? 

KD: My parents have always taught me to be appreciative of what your body can do for you. As much as I didn’t like the way my body looked in that moment, I still understood that I still have a good eye for color. I’m still a great artist. Even though I had to get a lot of stuff altered, I could still dress well. I still have a great personality. I was very reliant on the things that made me Kelvin rather than the things that made me the physical version of Kelvin.

What I started to realize is that people liked me because I was charismatic—I brought joy. … Instead of me focusing on the way that I look, I focused on the things that I brought to people in life and when I brought joy to myself. And that’s what really helped me overcome the actual physicality of being body-shamed.

If you just focus on how you look, you’re going to get stuck because your body’s not going to change overnight—and nor do you want it to. 

WM: Aside from fashion, how do you express how you’re feeling?

KD: My number one way right now is I have about 56 plants, so taking care of [them], whether that’s wiping down their leaves, checking for bugs, spraying them, watering them. It’s very therapeutic for me.

The next thing would be painting. I studied art education with a minor in oil painting, but I paint with acrylics now. I do a lot of Gullah-inspired paintings, which are inspired by the Lowcountry here in South Carolina. The paintings consist of very bright colors and dark-skinned Africans because a lot of the Lowcountry and a lot of Charleston was the biggest slave port. A lot of that Geechee and Gullah art and culture came from Africa. … So I like to paint [in that style]. It brings a lot of peace and joy to my mind because I just love bright colors. And the actual process of painting just makes everything around me seem like it’s going to be OK. 

WM: What’s something you’d like more men to know about confidence and body image?

KD: Being confident doesn’t mean you have to overpower someone else. Being confident means you’re secure in who you are. You don’t have to pretend to be something that you’re not, and you don’t have to pretend to be some manly, masculine guy that likes to overpower people and talk over people and show your bravado and machismo. That, to me, isn’t being a man. To me, that means you’re insecure and overcompensating for something that you’re lacking. 

For body image, it goes both ways. I had a college roommate who was very small, and he always wanted to get bigger. That was his goal. He ate so much, and he worked out. Me, I wanted to be smaller. So we were at this odds in college, where there were so many guys that had unhealthy eating habits to try to get bigger, and there were other guys that had unhealthy eating habits and exercise habits to be smaller.

For men, it’s OK for you to be who you are. It’s OK if you don’t have a lot of muscles. It’s OK if you’re thinner. It’s OK if you’re a bigger guy. It’s OK if you’re short. It’s OK if you are tall. What truly makes you a man in most people’s eyes is how you treat other people. People will rarely remember how you look, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

WM: What’s one of the best pieces of mental health advice you’ve received?

KD: It came from my dad, and he said this to me around 2018 because I was doing a little complaining about the way my career was going and this and that. He said, “Don’t be the man that finds four quarters and complains it wasn’t a dollar bill.” [I started to understand], OK, you have to be grateful for the situations and the things that you have, even though it didn’t come at the time and in the way that you wanted it. … I have to take each day and take each moment in time as a process and take these four quarters and not complain that they’re not dollar bills. 

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

The post How This Male Model Healed From Being Publicly Body-Shamed appeared first on Wondermind.

Q&A Link Copied 02.15.23

This Couple Wants to Help Black Men Go to Therapy

The Therapy for Black Men co-founders share how mental health care can impact generations. BySam Brodsky

A lot of men feel like they have to be tough because that’s the message society feeds them, says Benjamin Calixte, a life coach and co-founder of Therapy for Black Men. But, in reality, guys need support—and it’s more than OK to admit that you can’t get through hard times or work on yourself alone, he says. And while acknowledging that you need an assist is a super important first step, finding a “judgment-free, multiculturally-competent” therapist or life coach and  paying for their help are tough barriers to overcome.

That’s why Calixte and his wife, Vladimire, a licensed mental health counselor, set out to not only make finding a therapist easier but also cushion the financial blow that often gets in the way of people seeking out support in the first place. The couple founded Therapy for Black Men, an online directory of nearly 600 licensed therapists and 57 coaches, back in 2018. And, as of November 2022, they’ve covered $70,000 worth of mental health services for those looking for help through their organization. “By providing targeted resources and a database filled with professionals equipped to support men of color, our users can now obtain the help they need and deserve,” according to the Therapy for Black Men site. 

Here, the team spoke to Wondermind about breaking the stigma around therapy and how to actually say, “I need help.”

[This interview originally appeared in a July 2022 edition of the Wondermind Newsletter. Sign up here to never miss these candid conversations.] 

WM: You curated this hundreds-strong directory of licensed therapists. Why did you want to start this platform?

Vladimire Calixte: Growing up without a father, it was really tough. I internalized his absence, and I made it more so that there was something wrong with me. It wasn’t really until I started to do my own inner work, my own healing work, [that] I realized: No, it’s not that something was wrong with me. He was a man who was wounded, and that’s why he wasn’t around.

That was the big catalyst in starting Therapy for Black Men—to allow men to understand that these wounds follow you through adulthood. And if you don’t work through them, they’re gonna show up in your romantic relationship, they’re gonna show up in all of your relationships, and your children are gonna pay for it. So if you’re working through your healing journey, which is not linear—it’s something that’s constant—you become a better father, a better husband, a better person overall. It’s not only [that] you’re doing it for you.

Benjamin Calixte: When I would go to the barbershop, I’d do some kind of polling in the sense of asking, “Would you go to see a therapist?” A lot of them would be like, “Oh, no, no. I’m not gonna go see [a therapist].” But that was the collective. The same people I would see as an individual, they would come up to me [and say], “You know, I kind of would.” And I asked, “Why didn’t you express that?” And they’d say, “I don’t want anyone to really know that I wanna see them.”

As a male, in terms of growing up, we’ve been [taught] not to really express our feelings. And if we did, it was kind of conveyed or taken as a sign of weakness. And we kind of just learned to put that on the backburner ’cause we didn’t want to [be] perceived like we were weak in front of other males.

We just want to help brush back that stigma. And it’s starting to really take a hold. Men are starting to really be in touch with their feelings.

WM: What emotion do you think is most difficult for men to come to terms with?

BC: Being able to express that they’re grieving. For instance, my father got me into sports at a young age, and that’s something that I really enjoyed. And when I got into adulthood and I stepped away from that, I needed to grieve that past life.

Crying is [also] something that we really learned not to do, especially not in public…not with our friends. We feel that they’re not able to handle that because that could change the dynamic of the relationship. You could have a friend that you maybe grew up with and you broke down in front of him, and it’s no longer the same connection anymore because he feels [like], “Wait a minute, there’s something a little bit off.”

VC: I’ll never forget this: A few years ago, I was in a session, a couples session, [and the man] was just sharing a whole bunch of things that he was going through with his friend group. And also, he had a new job and just different changes in his life. And I remember saying, “Wow, that sounds like you’re grieving.” And you could see his whole countenance, his whole body language, was like, “Oh my goodness, now I can put a name to how I’ve been feeling.” And then [he said], “I thought grief was only associated with a loss of someone.” And I was like, “No, actually, with change comes grief. You’re grieving because you’re grieving these changes.” … I tell everyone when you connect with the right therapist, it makes a huge difference.

WM: You’ve raised tens of thousands of dollars to cover therapy sessions for Black men since 2020. Why is this financial assistance initiative important to you?

BC: When we set up the platform, we started to see that although you can have services, not everyone’s gonna be able to access those resources. … So we decided: Why don’t we at least kind of break the ice and allow them to at least get a sample? ‘Cause a lot of the men who are seeking the services have never in their wildest dreams ever thought they would be sitting in front of a therapist, and we didn’t want money to be the obstruction [preventing] them [from] seeing a therapist.

The process of therapy is to be transparent and to be vulnerable, which are big steps. You have to buy into that. So they’ll sit with me, and then we’ll streamline the process by contacting the therapist and letting them know that we are gonna be sponsoring [this person] for 10 [free] sessions.

WM: What have you learned from starting Therapy for Black Men together?

BC: It becomes something where it’s more of a ministry for us than work. I don’t necessarily consider Therapy for Black Men work, per se. When I do Zoom meetings and have men who are crying because they’re talking to me and expressing things, you’re touched that you can, you know, hopefully make a change. And we feel that change for that person, whether it’s a professional growth or personal one, is a change that can impact several generations because they decided to do something different. 

WM: What advice would you give Black men who feel like they are suffering in silence?

BC: The first thing I would say is to start to have a dialogue with someone ’cause that suffering in silence is something that could build and take them to a really ugly and scary place—a dark place.

VC: A lot of times when you’re going through something, you feel like you’re all alone. But if the men can reach out to a support group, [that can be] really helpful because now you really don’t feel like you’re alone. There are people who are going through something similar. 

WM: What is a stigma about mental health that you want to change?

VC: As a therapist, what I see in a lot of my sessions is, most of the time, people feel like therapy is for “crazy” people. If you encourage someone to go to therapy, the first thing you hear is, “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with me.” So my response is, “You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s what’s right  with you because therapy is not for the weak. It’s for strong people who are able to say, ‘I need help.’”

This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

The post This Couple Wants to Help Black Men Go to Therapy appeared first on Wondermind.

Stories Link Copied 01.06.23

11 Guys Who Went to Therapy Report Back

“It was nice to have a place to go where I’m not judged.” ByJay Deitcher

It’s probably safe to say that right now more folks are open to mental health help than ever before (or at least since 2019, according to a report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention). Yet, statistically, men are still skeptical: Per that same CDC report, only 17.8% of men between the ages of 18 and 44 got mental health help in 2021 compared to 28.6% of women the same age. 

And there are probably a ton of reasons for that, most notably a big thing called stigma. It can live rent-free in your mind, making you wonder whether talking about your feelings means you’re soft or that you have a deficiency of some sort. But, truth is, utilizing resources like therapy shows strength and a willingness to grow—and that can make a HUGE difference in how you feel about your life. 

I initially dipped my toes into therapy when I was in my early 20s, prompted by my (extremely unhelpful) talent for spiraling about worst-case scenarios. I used to drink to ease my nerves—an easy, temporary solve for a complicated emotional issue. But it wasn’t until I went to therapy that I discovered what was really going on in my mind: anxiety. 

My first therapist worked at the local college that offered sliding-scale counseling. At first, I didn’t even know what I wanted to get out of therapy; I just knew everything in life felt wrong. I was terrified of exposing my inner thoughts to a stranger, but I was desperate to quiet the ones that made me nearly incapable of speaking some days. Taking that first step into therapy was the beginning of learning how to cope with all my anxious thoughts. By 25, I was sober. Today? My ability to accept an assist is helping me thrive. 

If you’re debating making that first appointment or wondering if you’d even benefit from it, here’s why 10 other men started therapy, what they learned from their therapists, and why they went back.

1. I didn’t know how to talk about what I was feeling.

“I was 19 years old and really struggling with depression, loneliness, and suicidal ideation. I never felt a stigma around therapy; members of my family had been to therapy. Going to therapy gave me some of the language [I needed to] come to terms with what I was dealing with. My therapist helped me look back at my life and see where patterns were coming from. I feel like our generation and younger is like, ‘Guess what I learned in therapy yesterday?’ It’s just like when you’re physically ill or need a checkup, you go to the doctor. When you need emotional or psychological support, you go to a therapist. That’s all there is to it. Therapy has been so helpful that I’ve continued going on and off over the years.” —Jeff D., 35

2. I knew I needed to get ahead of my mental health. 

“When I got into therapy, I was going through my doctoral program, trying to juggle working full time during the pandemic and going through a breakup. That prompted me to be proactive about my mental health. At first, I went in with hopes of fixing things within the relationship, but the other person didn’t [want to go to] therapy, so that sent me on a solo mission, which was a blessing [because I could focus on myself].

Part of the journey is changing your mindset and just being open and wanting to heal. Although I did know that a stigma is there, I looked at it like physical therapy, more so focusing on the benefits to my mental health rather than the negatives. One thing my therapist [taught me] is to focus on the next 24 hours. You can get overwhelmed trying to focus on where you should be a year from now, a month from now, or a week from now, but if you focus on winning the day every single day, then that’ll help you.” —Daiquan P., 31

3. I needed a safe place to vent. 

“When I was in the military, I got married and had kids with someone who cheated on me every time I was deployed. All I ever wanted was a family. So when my home fell apart, it felt like everyone judged me for marrying this person. I went to therapy because I had to tell my story. It was nice to have a place to go where I’m not judged and to get [insight] from a therapist since I really don’t have anyone else.” —Ben G., 42

4. I needed direction. 

“I first tried a counseling center in college. I don’t even remember why I went, just that a friend suggested it. I spoke with one of their random interns two times, and it was useless. I did not go back to therapy for a long time. [Then I] tried some person in my 20s because I needed career direction after getting a teaching degree and realizing I had no interest in teaching. [At the time, it felt like] talk therapy was not ideal because I talked circles around people. I only started attending therapy regularly five years ago because I was going through something that was kinda early midlife crisis-ish. Luckily, I found a new therapist who could keep up. He’s a New Yorker. I called him in crisis a few months ago, and he was able to reflect back to me, ‘You have done this before. You have this skill, and you can handle this.’ I remember feeling that this is what therapy is for, to have somebody who has an objective, caring, but detached perspective.” —John C.*, 36 

5. I couldn’t avoid my anxiety anymore.  

“I spent most of my life trying not to dwell too much on my childhood. I always excused what I’d been through because many had worse childhoods. I never wanted people to feel bad for me, especially those that raised me because they did the best they could with the hand they were dealt. Still, the truth is, I was sexually, physically, and emotionally abused by different people throughout my childhood and early teens. Of course I was angry that it happened and more so that it was allowed to happen.

I needed to talk to somebody, but somehow I managed to get by my whole life [without seeking help]. But, a few years ago, my father-in-law passed away and within a month I was held up at gunpoint and robbed. Something was set off within me. … All of my anxieties just came rushing through.

That’s what started [my therapy journey]. I went to one therapist who was a woman, and I opened up to her about past trauma in my life. The next therapist was a man, and I opened up to him about how those traumas might be exhibiting themselves today. They offered me different things and were both great experiences.” —Kenneth J., 37

6. I was having relationship issues.  

“Being dragged to a therapist when I was a teen was weird. Torture, even, because I never understood why I was going and didn’t want to be there. It [felt like] just some weird guy forcing me to sit in a chair, and he kept asking me questions. Luckily [later in life], I found a psychologist who definitely vibed with me. I started going to this psychologist for relationship issues after my (now-ex) girlfriend suggested it. We were having relationship issues, and she wanted me to take care of my mental health. … It’s crazy how even saying things out loud to a therapist can make you realize how shitty things are. He was very good at making me assess my self-worth, my personal boundaries, and why I cave so often in relationship discussions and arguments. Personal boundaries are something I never would have considered before that.” —Jim M., 37

7. I knew I needed extra help.  

“I thought I was strong enough to deal with my own problems and resolve them. The problem, of course, was that my problems were spilling onto other people’s laps. My wife basically told me I needed therapy or our marriage probably wasn’t going to last. I would fly off the handle dumb quick if I felt like somebody was being disrespectful. It took years of therapy to understand the notion of pausing before acting. It’s something I still wrestle with.

The most valuable thing I’ve learned is that there are ways to deal with my particular brand of dysfunction and ways to get better that other people have tried and worked.” —Adam W., 46

8. I needed to get to the root of my struggles.  

“I was required to go to therapy as a kid because of problems in school. I felt shame about seeing a therapist, mainly because going to therapy seemed different from what other kids did. When I got older, I found healing. Soon after I got sober from alcohol in my mid-20s, I found a new therapist who helped me look at things that happened in my life. I realized I was molested as a kid and repressed it. I was estranged from my family at the time, and my therapist told me I should invite my parents to come to therapy. We talked about my blaming them, and I was able to forgive them because I realized it wasn’t their fault.” —Jeff A., 46

9. I needed someone who could talk me through tough times. 

“I was a teenager when I first went into therapy because I was having thoughts of self-harm. High school was a really challenging time for me…and I was picked on. I had a really good therapist who talked me through things. He would say that what you’re going through right now isn’t going to be forever. 

That has stuck with me, and I tie that into my stay-at-home parenting outlook today. These days, [my kids keep me so busy that] I literally have to schedule bathroom breaks when I have to go. But as my kids get older, I will have more time to myself. The rough spots that I go through right now will not be forever. Although I’m not currently in individual therapy, I attend a parent support group every week. They show me I’m not alone.” —Timothy T., 49

10. I had no other options.  

“For me, therapy started with the onset of a brain injury. After I got into a car accident, it became apparent that there were underlying issues, like addictions and self-medicating as a method to treat bipolar disorder and depression. I was the first one in my family to have this kind of diagnosis and get help for it, so I received a lot of shaming because [they felt there was] something different about me. 

When I finally got treatment, I had no other option. It was probably the best thing that happened to me because I gained control of my life and saw the benefits of mapping my symptoms. I became more in touch with my feelings, realizing I can develop an identity and relate to people and have social relationships and friends when I used to push people away or feel isolated and cut off. I can see my part in the greater mosaic of the world than I grew up thinking was possible coming from an immigrant and first-generation [American] family.” —Tony L., 45

*Name has been changed. 

Quotes have been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

The post 11 Guys Who Went to Therapy Report Back appeared first on Wondermind.