Inspired by the upcoming release of Sleight, lets think about the heroes in our lives. Whether they've impacted our education, career or personal lives, we all have at least one person who has helped us become who we are today.

With that in mind, I want to shine light on my therapist. 

In the black community, it's a common belief that going to therapy is not a necessity. It's often seen as something only white people do. When I think of its negative connotations, I often think of Molly's "girl, you ok?" line in Insecure –  her response after finding out her friend is in therapy. For some, the thought of even going raises concern, and may even be seen as a stepping stone towards insanity – which is not always true. 

Side note, for the sake of being specific, this article will mainly speak on my personal experience. For those wanting to read more on therapy's general stigma (as well as find some resources), read this article here.

I first went to therapy back in 2011 when I lived in Minnesota. I had recently moved to America, and needed help navigating a very new (and white) environment, as well as ongoing issues with my mother. I remember being ushered into a room, and greeted by a long haired white guy in his early 30's. After a very brief conversation, he not only insisted I take medication, but also believed it was in my "best interest" to go to a mental institution. 

As you can imagine, this was not easy to hear – especially at the age of 17. He never bothered to hear me out or even ask questions. I was quick to jump on the bandwagon that this was not for me. Even with his accolades and credentials, I clearly could not trust this man.

By some weird fate, I met Dr. B – a 5 ft black woman in her late 40's. She saw my distraught face, the flyers in the 1st therapist's hands, and immediately took me to the next room. Through my muffled tears, she assured me that his suggestions were not an option. I spent the next hour curled up on a couch venting in her office.

For one of the first times, I felt like someone was listening to me. She created a safe space I did not think I deserved, especially as a young black woman.

Fast forward to late 2014. I had recently moved to Los Angeles and hadn't been to therapy for years due to a lack of finances and accessibility. After some heavy searching, I finally found a good therapist in Beverly Hills. Not only was she a black woman, but she was also covered by my insurance (minus the co-pay).

I wasn't even a month into seeing her before that safe space was re-established. Sure, her and Dr. B weren't identical, but in many ways, it felt like I was back in her office in Minneapolis.

Because of her, I could identify the toxic people in my life. A phrase of hers that always stuck out to me was: "you tend to keep people past their expiration date". She made me see their negative affect on me, and also gave me the courage to finally cut them off.

As simple as it sounds, it was a tough process. My therapist not only told me how to do it (via. role play type conversations), but also explained how the toxic person might try to flip the switch by gas lighting, and to say she was right was an understatement. 

With said toxic people gone, I suddenly had more time (and energy) to work on my craft because I was no longer worried about the wrong things. I booked more acting roles and became a better writer. I stopped questioning my skill set, because I no longer was being told that 1. I wasn't good enough or 2. that I should stop altogether (e.g. one of the last things a toxic person told me was that I should "quit writing and go back to London"). 

We do not take the signs of poor mental health seriously. Too many of us believe they can be fixed with prayer and positive thinking. We need to stop simplifying a very complex issue. 

Think of a therapy session in the same way you would think of a check up at the doctors. Going doesn't mean something is wrong, but if there is an issue you take care of it.

I am where I am today because of my therapist; because I placed my mental health on the forefront and stopped thinking that it wasn't a priority. The process was not easy and is still happening. I would take a 2 hour bus ride to my sessions before I had a car. I had to change some spending habits to afford the regular co-pay, but when I see the positive impact my therapist has had, it's clear that those struggles were worth it.

This piece was inspired by Sleight, in theaters April 28th"