We’ve All Been Kara – #BeingMaryJane

 

For the past three seasons, Tuesday nights have been reserved for quotes on yellow stickys, the fineness of David, and everything that is Mary Jane’s relatable messiness. Yes, Being Mary-Jane. It’s like watching the “oh no” moments of my life turned into a t.v. show with great fashion and fine men. And with this season, BET and their writers haven’t held back. Being Mary Jane has finally taken the next brave step in unraveling the stigma of Mental Health from the mild to the extreme.

In one of the past episodes, we watched one of the characters, Kara, crumble under the pressure of being a “good mother” while balancing her primetime TV producer position at SNC, a news stations. She ugly cried into MJ’s arms after burning brownies and spoke her truth on motherhood, marriage, and success. If you’ve never watched the show, Kara is the powerhouse equipped with an unmatchable drive, a macbook, and recently revealed, anxiety medication. She’s also a recently divorced mother with kids that opted to live with their father because the balancing act of mommy-hood and being superwoman fell a littler short. She is always desperately trying to do it all.

With that being said, the night this episode aired, I watched my Twitter timeline turn into a bashing session after Kara’s meltdown. Kara was called an unfit mother, an unstable bitch, and a crazy Latina. Phrases such as, “That’s why she shouldn’t have kids” were retweeted, and “Why is she always doing too much,” were liked. Folks laughed at her pain, and practically labeled her “weak”.

When did being overwhelmed and overworked become weak?
When did expressing our vulnerable moments become an unmentionable?

Let’s be honest here.

I’ve been Kara. I’ve been Kara a lot.

I accidentally built this blog and brand on vulnerability back in 2011 when I confessed to the Internet that I didn’t feel comfortable in my own skin and that I hated what I saw in the mirror.

I became Kara when I embarked on a 30lbs weight loss journey and once I hit my goal weight declared to the world that I still felt unhappy with my progress. I still felt unattractive and unworthy.

I was Kara when I told the world to stop asking why I was single or when I was having kids.

I become Kara every time I come undone within a blog post or newsletter edition. Because sometimes holding in the mental anguish does more harm than good, and sometimes, just sometimes, I need to cry it out in writing.

[Tweet “With dreams, passions, and goals, comes crash and burns and relentless pressure. “]

But not only that, I become Kara every time I put a dream into motion. Dreams do not work unless you do. And with dreams, and passions, and goals, and visions, also comes crash and burns, relentless pressure, and sometimes anxiety medication. Whoever sold the world on the word, “hustling”, forgot to shine a light on the aforementioned things. Success doesn’t come easy.

I’m not here to stunt on social media or plaster a fake smile on my face when in the public eye. I’m too tired for the pretend game, and way too old to be trying to portray myself as something that I am not. I say it all time, I am the definition of a beautiful heartbreaking mess that curses quit a bit, and is rather sarcastic. I’m a positive patty that comes with sass, mood swings, and strange fixations. Oh, and I’m sensitive and have no issue showing it.

[Tweet “My vulnerability is my reminder to folks that I am human, too. “]

I think it’s what reminds people (and myself) that I am human. That I am human, and that I bleed, cry, and shit too. That I may have a hard outer shell, endless ambition, but I take off my superwoman suit every once in awhile.

And that isn’t something to be ashamed of. Not now. Not ever.

I’ve been Kara. I’ve been Kara a lot.

And you have too, so please, spare me your lies.