Several weeks ago, I shared my plans to launch a greeting card brand, and the outpouring of support from friends, colleagues, family and even strangers was incredibly heartwarming. I’m thrilled to announce that I will soon have exciting updates to share about this venture.

But first, I want to dive deeper into the “why” behind my decision to create this line of greeting cards. I realize I need to provide some context, so please bear with me on this reflective journey. When I initially began this blog, I committed to posting at least once or twice a month. Admittedly, I haven’t met that goal, and while it’s a point of self-critique, it’s also a reflection of the journey’s unpredictability—I blame my ADHD. This detail is not meant to be humorous (as my attempts at humor tend to fall flat), but rather to shed light on the spontaneous nature of this process.

The brand, Love Letters to a Black Man, is focused on creating greeting cards that convey heartfelt messages to Black men, whether for their birthday, to celebrate an achievement or just because. This initiative is underpinned by research indicating the disproportionately high risk of suicide among African American men. The cards are designed with the intent to uplift, featuring messages like “You are enough” and “I’m proud of you,” aiming to boost the mental well-being of Black men through the acknowledgment of life’s significant milestones.

My drive to embark on this project stems from years of research into mental health. Finding relatable resources has been a challenge, as the majority of “self-help” or mental health books do not cater to the experiences of Black men. The narrative often excludes us, or worse, associates our struggles with incarceration. My own library, sprawling across my apartment, serves as a testament to the scarcity of these resources.

The importance of being able to relate to stories, experiences and people cannot be overstated, not just during our childhood developmental years but as we navigate the complexities of adulthood. Societal norms, especially within the Black community, often discourage vulnerability in men, perpetuating a cycle of silent suffering. John Head’s “Black Men and Depression” addresses this issue, highlighting the secretive nature of mental health discussions within the Black community and the dire consequences of untreated mental health issues. Head writes about how Black men only get treatment in extreme situations, like when we are in the emergency room, homeless and placed into a system or even prison.  

This mission I am on is deeply personal. As a Black man, I am constantly navigating a minefield of societal expectations, needing to excel relentlessly, articulate my thoughts with unwavering clarity and fight for what others might receive without question. This relentless pressure contributes to a pervasive sense of anxiety that many of us live with daily. And some times we are told this anxiety isn’t real, and that is not the case. 

However, it’s crucial to underscore my firm belief in the importance of seeking therapy from licensed professionals. My own experiences with therapy have been transformative, providing me with the tools needed to navigate life’s challenges. For those considering therapy, numerous resources are available, including websites like www.psychologytoday.com, which can help find therapists who offer sliding scale fees or accept insurance.

If these greeting cards can make even one person feel loved, valued and seen, then I believe I’ve fulfilled my purpose. This project is not just about creating cards; it’s about sending a message that you are not alone, and your mental health matters. Together, we can start to break down the barriers that prevent Black men from seeking the help and support they need.