I’m sooooo done being fake humble. It’s not exactly being fake humble when anxiety is present, but nevertheless I’m done being shy. I was watching SZA on Kai Cenat’s stream yesterday and I felt so seen. There SZA was, in all of her female glory, after giving us the most raw, vulnerable performance with SOS and telling the whole world she just killed her ex, nervous to sit in front of a live video camera and have people perceive her. Although I would assume that would be out of most people’s comfort zone, the grammy-winning singer got up a few times to take a few breaths and tame her anxiety, and eventually it seemed like she was comfortable in the room. That’s when I started thinking that black women with anxiety need a lot of love. We need safe spaces to be ourselves and not be judged for any negative feelings and emotions that can come up for us. ‘Cause even just showing up can take a lot.
It’s like we know we’re that girl, we’re just too afraid to show it.
My version of going on Kai’s live stream was earlier this month when I met face-to-face with a prominent documentary filmmaker in the industry. Despite me trying to talk myself out of it the night before, I made sure my Amtrak tickets were nonrefundable and got my ass on a 6am train to New York first thing the next morning. Quite hungover after celebrating my 23rd birthday, nervous, and dealing with a level of hangxiety I had never dealt with before, I met with said producer and like usual, I was nervous for no reason. I sighed a breath of relief when they arrived and I was able to have all of my professional questions answered. The only thing I can say went wrong, was that I forgot to talk about me.
I have seen their work before. Their style is super dope, unique, and captures the very essence of music documentaries. It’s something I’ve taken inspiration from since I’ve become familiar with it. Yet when it was time to talk about my work, I’ve gotten so used to talking myself down that I gave my usual spiel about my upcoming documentary work in Brazil:
“I’m moving to Brazil to work on a documentary in Bahia.”
Except that’s not always the line. Sometimes, when I really want to brag about myself, I’ll say:
“I got a scholarship to move to Brazil and work on a documentary in Bahia.”
Sure I talked about my work, but I played it down. It’s not just any scholarship I won, I won a Fulbright Scholarship. A Fulbright Scholarship is one of the most highly prestigious international exchange programs worldwide. It’s government-funded, and it’s seen as a mark of quality within one’s field. Notable Fulbright alumni have gone on to change the whole world. In other words, I’m well on my way to winning a Nobel or Pulitzer prize one day, and perhaps even changing the world with my work.
I wonder how many times I’ll hear that until it registers. If I had the confidence of someone like, say, Donald Trump, I would’ve not only accepted my value a long ass time ago but I would also be making hella bands from it by now, too.
I say all this to just express that it’s so damn hard to fully take up space. I know I’m not the only one. I don’t know if it’s racism, or misogyny, or both. But day by day I’m learning to do it. I’m still young, new to the profession, and if anything this is good indication that I have so much room to grow my confidence. It won’t be overnight and that’s a good thing. Life is a journey after all.
Next time someone asks me about what I got going on, I’mma hit ’em with this:
“I earned a Fulbright Scholarship with government funding to support my upcoming project in Brazil. Are you familiar with a Fulbright Scholarship?”
All I can do is keep it real end of the day. Me accepting my excellence is as real as it can get.