the cost of having convictions

i've gained more than i've lost

Palestinians teach life. And for that, I owe them everything.

Trusting others no longer comes easy to me. I’m not sure why it ever did. But even with the loss of my naïveté, among other losses, I’m still blessed with my most valuable quality: integrity.

No amount of accolades, praise, compliments, external validation, useless flattery, and false senses of security will ever get in the way of my values, and I’m genuinely proud of myself for that. I don’t say any of this for kudos but rather for acceptance of myself and my life choices.

My life is a lot smaller and intimate than it was when I worked in Hollywood, and I’m all the more happier for it. At a time when my social network, career mobility, and proximity to the “greats” were at its highest, I got to witness the majority of my peers stay silent on the genocide of Palestinians. If I were delusional, I’d say I understand, but I’m not, so I still don’t.

We can get into the nitty gritty of privilege and job security, but most of the people I’m referring to grew up with so much money that it puts my suburban upbringing to shame. However, I don’t care about that anymore. I spent too much time asking myself questions that ultimately led to the worst downward spiral: Why do these people get to keep failing upwards while I’m struggling to stay employed? Why do their lives seem so cushion-y and complete while I scream into a void about crimes against humanity, attending protests that put my body and safety at risk while they do nothing? Why me? Why me? Why me?

The answer was always that it would never be about me. I needed to embrace the death of my ego, because I still kept prioritizing the outcome of myself and my privileges above all.

That’s not how having convictions work.

The chances of you reaping benefits from true advocacy are often slim to none. I appreciate

Frederick Joseph

’s work, because it’s a subject that has come up multiple times, such as Don’t Buy My Books from Target—which shows his commitment to not profiting from an organization that’s willingly rolling back its DEI initiatives—and the below Instagram graphic.

You have to lose something in order to know if you really stand on business. I’ve given up so much (a career in film development, friends, relationships, familial ties to name a few) and I’d do it all over again, because it pales in comparison to the annihilation of a people. The illusion of comfort and stability won’t save me, because everything in this life can easily be snatched away. The past year of my life is a testament to that fact.

Right now, I have food, water, shelter, and my health. I’m incredibly grateful, because what should be considered a right is unfortunately a luxury in society. I love manifestations and prayers, but what makes me more deserving than the next person for more than the basic necessities? I love to mention that I am both Black American and African, Ghanaian to be specific, but I ask myself why do I deserve the life that I live more than Ghanaians who are going without just because I was born in the empire?

I don’t.

Our life circumstances arise from a vacuum of probability. I’m grateful for the chance to follow my heart and moral compass, when those before me had less chances to do so.

It’s my duty to do better.

Most people aren’t on the type of time I’m on, which isn’t an indictment of their worthiness as a human being but rather a reflection of the fact that I’m going to experience less in life, as I continue to commit myself to living boldly. Authenticity is a nonnegotiable term of my existence, because I refuse to return to a version of myself that hates who I am.

I’m unrecognizable now.

The palatability I once wore disappeared. It faded with the fullness of my cheeks, because I’m insistent on aging in more ways than one. I’m disgusted at the thought of a life where I’m not contributing anything to the greater world around me. But that also means I have to leave some people and idolatry behind.

I’m not a celebrity worshipper or even a human worshipper anymore, and I thank God for that. I kept looking for others to validate my decisions and choices, but a lost person seeking guidance from ungrounded people only leads to chaos.

My mental wellness journey is still evolving. However, the older I get, the more I realize that self-preservation and integrity are intrinsically linked. I can’t claim to be anything if I stand for nothing, and that’s something no one will ever take away from me.

There’s so much more work to be done. But as I reflect on the past two years of living on this Earth, in this country that’s experiencing a rapid decline, I’m amazed at how I’ve saved myself, by stepping outside of myself and honoring our interconnectedness.

I may not have what I once desired, but I’m blessed with so much more. I’m joyful in the smallest moments, hanging out with true friends and family, going to the farmer’s market, watching independent movies, and watering my orchid.

What else can I ask for?