Finding Us (Christian Interracial Romance)

Breaking Down the Walls

Cecilia

"You ready?" Reagan asks me as her dark brown eyes are warm. 

"Yes," I nod before I begin taking a deep breath in and exhale. 

I sit in front of the microphone, my heart pounding like a drum. The familiar faces of my cousins across from me provide some comfort, but the weight of the memories and the pain I've carried for so long still feels overwhelming. I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is necessary—both for my healing and to help others who might be going through something similar.

"Welcome back, fam," Reagan begins, her voice steady and soothing. "Today, we have a very special guest—our cousin, Cecilia Evans. She's here to talk about her experiences in the music industry, her struggles with mental health, and the journey that's brought her to this point. Cecilia, thank you so much for joining us."

"Thank you for having me," I reply, my voice wavering slightly. I feel exposed, like I'm about to peel back layers of myself that I've kept hidden. It's terrifying yet oddly liberating.

Stella leans in, her eyes full of empathy. "Cecilia, let's start with the Grammy Awards. You had a very public breakdown there. Can you tell us what led up to that moment?"

I nod, swallowing hard. "The 65th Annual Grammy Awards were supposed to be a celebration of all the artists' accomplishments as well as my accomplishments, but instead, it became a nightmare." I pause, the memory flooding back—the glitzy red carpet, the shimmering lights, the weight of expectations pressing down on me like a lead blanket. "The performance by Sam Smith and Kim Petras—it was so dark, so demonic. It triggered something in me. The following days after that, I've dug a deeper hole researching behind the scenes of the music industry and how many certain singers I have listened to growing up, have sold their souls to the devil for power and fame. And that's when I realized I couldn't continue in an industry that glorified such things. It felt like my whole world was crashing down."

As I speak, the tears well up, threatening to spill over. Reagan reaches out and squeezes my hand, offering silent support. It's moments like these that remind me I'm not alone.

"A few weeks after that night, I started cleansing my life and the soundtrack of my life. I blocked particular singers on social media, deleted their music from my playlists—everything. I couldn't let that darkness seep into my spirit anymore." I take a deep breath, my voice steady but full of emotion. "Grief isn't just about losing someone you love. It's also about losing parts of yourself, realizing the world isn't what you thought it was. As a devout follower of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I had to face the truth: I was grieving the loss of my innocence, my trust in an industry I once admired. It wasn't just that performance," I continue, my voice trembling. "It was everything that came before it, too. The pressures, the racism, the constant mocking of my faith. I felt so alone, even in a room full of people. And then there was the loss of our great-grandmother. She was such a pillar in our family. Losing her felt like losing a part of myself." The ache in my heart is palpable and I can feel the weight of grief settle on my shoulders like a shroud.

Stella nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "She was really an amazing woman. Her strength and love shaped so much of who we are."

"Exactly," I say, my voice breaking. "She and our grandmother raised our parents. She was always there for us, a constant source of wisdom and comfort. Losing her was devastating and it added to the already immense burden I was carrying." I can feel the sting of tears threatening to spill over as I remember her warm hugs and gentle laughter. I'd give anything to hear her voice just one more time.

Reagan gives me a moment to collect myself before speaking. "Cecilia, you mentioned facing racism and being made fun of for your faith. Can you share more about that?"