A Snapshot in Time: Lind’s Story
Black gay mental health stories often remain untold, but this moment from my past deserves to be shared. By reflecting on this deeply personal experience, I hope to shed light on the challenges surrounding Black gay mental health and the need for supportive communities.
Someone from my past came to mind today—someone I hadn’t thought of in years. His name was Lind. We first met at Pattengill Middle School in Lansing, Michigan. Initially, I didn’t like him. Lind and I were a lot alike—young, black, and gay. A rivalry brewed between us, partly because we both had a crush on the same boy, Eduardo. Eduardo, however, never showed any signs of sharing our feelings or even being part of our community.
Eventually, I let go of my crush and focused on my studies. Lind, more open about his identity than I was, tried to out me on several occasions—probably due to our shared infatuation with Eduardo. Despite these incidents, I didn’t hold a grudge. Over time, we became friends—and for a brief moment, something more.
One afternoon after school, I visited Lind’s house. To my surprise, he kissed me. Before long, our clothes were off. We were just two 13-year-olds, far too young to truly understand what we were doing. But it happened, and at the time, I thought it was wonderful.
Afterward, Lind told me I needed to leave before his parents came home. I walked back to my house, a bit sore but elated. I called him to talk about what had happened, unaware that he was recording our conversation. I only discovered the betrayal when a mutual friend—who also happened to be my cousin’s classmate—told me about it.
I was furious. I felt hurt and betrayed. How could Lind do this to me? We were far too young to be grappling with adult problems like betrayal and trust. Soon after, my family moved, and I transferred to another school. The incident wasn’t the reason for the move, but it gave me a fresh start.
Years Later: An Unexpected Reunion
Eight years passed. I had long since left those memories behind when, out of the blue, Lind tracked me down. He apologized for his betrayal, and I could tell he was sincere.
By then, life had thrown Lind into difficult circumstances. He was living at Covenant, a mental health facility that monitored his every move—from phone calls to bedtimes. We spent hours reminiscing about school and our lives since then. Despite everything, we made plans to meet up.
I borrowed my grandmother’s car to pick him up, and we headed to Club Paradise—my home away from home. That night, I introduced Lind to my friends and stayed by his side instead of ruling the dance floor as I usually did.
The night ended too soon. Lind had a curfew, and I had to drop him off by midnight. As we said goodbye, he kissed me again. This time, it felt different—a farewell kiss full of unspoken emotions I couldn’t fully unpack.
The News That Broke My Heart
Days passed, and when I tried to contact Lind, I learned he was no longer at the facility. Confused, I carried on with my busy life. A year later, while working at Target, I ran into the same mutual friend who had told me about the recorded phone call. She shared devastating news: Lind had died. He had taken his own life.
I was heartbroken. Disappointed. I wondered if there was anything I could have done to help. I’ll never know the full story of his pain. All I can do now is honor his memory by sharing this story.
Mental Health and Suicide Prevention
Lind’s story is a painful reminder of the importance of mental health awareness. If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of self-harm or suicide, help is available:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: Dial 988 (in the United States)
Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741
Trevor Project (for LGBTQ+ youth): Call 1-866-488-7386 or text START to 678678
No one should suffer in silence. Reach out. Speak up. And remember—you are not alone.
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