

These Women Left America To Live Out Their Black Girl Magic Abroad
Well, it's pretty understood that this year has altered the idea of everything we thought we knew about being prepared. Between a global shutdown, to the White House's occupants believing that them not bumping into walls is a means for celebration, 2020 has straight up laughed in our faces, and continually proved that each month will progressively get even more ridiculous than the one before.
Add a layer of melanin on the year, and the essence of wanting more for ourselves as women who are minding our business and living in our blackness in peace, whilst expecting the same in return from society, leaves us exhausted and plain ole sick and tired.
I recently read a story via USA Today, featuring the amazing Lakeisha Ford, who'd chosen to relocate to Ghana to run her communication firm in Accra. She spoke so assuredly about her decision to move, so fearlessly.
What drew me to her, was that her decision to move wasn't solely based on the berating racism in America, it was just a mere contribution. She was mostly intrigued by Ghananian culture.
"Here I don't have to think of myself as a Black woman and everything that comes with that. Here, I am just a woman."
This made me wonder, how many of us have considered leaving America behind? Is moving to another country the answer?
Well, for some, the answer is absolutely.
We found a group fabulous ladies to tell us their stories about their why; why they chose to leave America in their rear view. Here's what they told us:
Phelicia Deorrah | Relocated to Montego Bay, Jamaica:
Photo Courtesy of Phelicia Deorrah
Originally From: Atlanta, GA
Instagram:@n8kedtruthart
In June of 2017, I affirmed in my journal that in 12 months, I would finalize my move to Jamaica. At that point, I figured I would stay at least one year and then return to the United States if things didn't go as planned. During my preparation phase (2017-2018), I held a couple of full-time jobs to save money for my relocation. There was actually one job that I'd landed in early 2018, that actually made me consider postponing my plans to move to Jamaica, because I'd found a "good job". The benefits were good, the salary was adequate – but after working there for a few months, typical corporate America "issues" happened and I decided to quit abruptly and move forward with my plan.
Less than a month later, I was on a plane to Jamaica.
My younger sister, Crystal, was actually the first person I told about my plan to move to the island. I was sitting in Atlanta traffic after a long workday – tired, hot, and uninspired. My plans to barter art in Jamaica had failed and I had been trying to figure out a way to travel back to the island consistently. I called her up and said, "Crystal, why don't I just move to Jamaica?!"
And her response was, "Do it!"
From here, my affirmations were solidified. I knew that building my business in Jamaica is what I would be set on doing.
In the beginning, the unspoken cultural differences (the things a book or the internet can't teach you) and constant patois were overwhelming. It was a culture shock not being able to speak the language (yes, Jamaicans speak the Queen's English – but patois can be very hard to understand when Jamaicans speak to each other), so when people all around me were communicating, it was very overwhelming. I was on high alert all the time, because I never knew when people were talking to me; everything always sounded like shouting. Now that I understand most of what people are saying around me, AND I even know how to respond – it makes it way less intimidating.
It was also extremely overwhelming adapting to the fact that in Jamaica, as an American, I am automatically considered to be privileged– which is truly an out-of-body feeling, because I have never felt that way in America. So, I've learned to live more moderately and be extra careful of what I do, with what I have.
Other than that, I just try to take in all aspects of my new reality. I remember the first time I went to the local beach (no tourists) and I realized that it was my first time ever seeing all Black people at a beach. It's one of those things you never knew that you've never seen until you see it.
As far as the current events in the U.S., although I had moved prior to chaos, it all still affects me. I seem to be watching America from another world. I am happy to be in Jamaica, BUT I am still affected and traumatized by what's going on in the States.
People may think that I am lucky and I can "turn it off" or avoid reality because I am in Jamaica – but the truth is, when you are Black, you do not have the privilege to avoid your Black reality. Period.
Through it all, I've learned that I had to stop expecting American service and behavior and understand that I am the foreigner/outsider now. I've learned to adapt and embrace the differences. I am an empath, so seeing a lot of poverty and people working for next to nothing (the minimum wage of $7,000 JMD per week is equivalent to about $56 USD per week) affects me more than I anticipated. But, I started a charity called The Traveler's Contribution that helps me feel like I'm contributing more than just coming here and taking. I've learned to continue helping where I can, with what I can.
And lastly, I've been reaffirmed that what you put into the universe, you will get back. I followed my heart to relocate, and God has provided for me. I believe if you're stagnant, sometimes God will push you into a circumstance that requires action. Sometimes we have the faith, but we don't want to act – we have to follow through with our dreams and act.
Demetria Brown | Relocated to Puerta Vallerta, Mexico
Photo Courtesy of Demetria Brown
From: Long Beach, CA
Instagram: @meechieistoocute
I decided to move abroad in January 2020.
At the time, I was somewhere between being fully aware that no country was exempt from racism or prejudice, and standing in my personal determination of finding true racial and gender freedom. I wanted to show my people that we can thrive abroad and that we don't have to follow the social standards that others think we should stick to in order to do so.
Honestly, it had always been a desire to live outside the U.S., not because I hate America, but because I wanted peace from constant chaos of the society and the rat race that we are accustomed to.
But most of all, I wanted my daughter to see real life courage; to have the ability to excel in a way others believe we were never supposed to.
The path to arrive in Mexico has taken me 42 years. And believe me, it was muddy, rocky and grim the whole way. But now my route is laid before me. God and the universe has the stars aligned like a seasoned GPS system, creating the best navigation possible without any permanent road blocks--just for me.
Now, I feel as if I'm in a perfect place. For once I am not looked at as weird for hugging and showing affection towards others. I'm not looked at as strange for saying, "Hola" or smiling at people who may not know me. My kindness for humans is reciprocated. I am not judged by my occupation, complexion, shade, or gender. I am loved and accepted just because I am Meechie--and that is absolutely incredible to me.
The best thing I have discovered, honestly, is owning my time and creating new experiences that are beyond explainable with my new Mexican family and friends is what makes me happy. And not everything has been great, believe me.
Have I been overwhelmed? Oh my goodness, yes! For the longest, I wasn't sure of myself while here. I was second-guessing if this decision was a smart one. I didn't have proper resources available to assist me due to the pandemic and obviously relocating during it had its own challenges. Also, leaving my home, my family, my friends, my career...everything I built for so many years behind (I have an adult son who doesn't agree with the move and a teenage daughter who loves it and will soon join me), man, it was rough!
But I now know a bigger love. Home isn't your address. Home is a state of mind where you're comfortable and your skin shade is unapologetically safe. Home is where you are loved. Home is the epicenter of the heart.
And mine resides here in Mexico!
Before you make the decision, understand that moving away, whether across the street or to another country, doesn't solve internal problems--it just exposes what's broken in you. So, before you think you're escaping the pain of your current situation, be sure you're healed and ready to tackle the battle that lies before you.
Shar Wynter | Relocated to Lisbon, Portugal
Photo Courtesy of Shar Wynter
From: Detroit, MI
Instagram:@FeetMeetsLand
Initially, my desire to live abroad was out of pure curiosity.
At age 29, I made my first move overseas to live in London through a temporary job relocation assignment. And my time in London was AMAZING. It enlightened me in so many ways, including broadening my perspective on race relations whilst comparing being Black in London, to being Black in America.
When I compared the two experiences, on average, I was treated better and with more respect in London on a social and professional level. As a result, once I returned back to the U.S., the constant microaggressions and ill-treatment that I had previously normalized--and been desensitized to--became unbearable. This sentiment coupled with a series of traumatizing events (some which were racially rooted) motivated me to quit my job of ten years and leave the U.S for good (in 2019).
My goal was to travel, do some soul-searching, and find a new country to live in.
A few months into my search, the pandemic hit so I decided to stay in London for a few months, and then eventually landed in Portugal. Throughout this time, whenever a new Black Lives Matter hashtag emerged in response to the unjust killing of yet another Black person, my decision to leave the U.S. was further cemented. And guys, my life and health became significantly better. Also, there really isn't a price that you can put on the peace of mind that I get from being able to exist in peace without the heavy cloak of racism on my back.
And yes, I'm fully aware that every country has race issues (both the UK and Portugal have their fair share) but the difference is that the probability of me, or a loved one, losing their life because of it, is lessened. When I think about all the times when my life has been in danger, they all occurred in the States.
In London, the cops seemed less militarized. Most do not even have guns. I remember seeing the police dancing with the crowd at Notting Hill Carnival. I can also vividly recall the cops peacefully guiding protesters during a Black Lives Matter march. It was shocking to me to see the cordial relationship that cops had with citizens.
With respect to Lisbon, one major cultural difference is that the people in Lisbon seem to have a stronger level of respect for others by adhering to the rules and safety measures put in place as a result of the pandemic. For example, most people in Lisbon are wearing their masks without issue, they use sanitation stations, and do whatever's necessary to help protect the well-being of others. It's not a major point of contention.
Sometimes, my relocation does get the best of me, though. Yes, I'm a huge advocate for living abroad, but being away from family and friends, and learning how to navigate your way through foreign spaces, is not for the faint of heart. For example, it took me an entire week to learn how to use a microwave/oven because the manual was in Portuguese. Also in Lisbon, I have to go to multiple stores sometimes to get everything I need when grocery shopping so it's an entire three hour ordeal. The grocery stores don't carry everything all in one place like they do in America.
Ultimately, you really have to be open-minded and flexible because it's easy to get overwhelmed and frustrated, especially in the beginning, but the experience overall is totally worth it.
I say all of this to say that choosing a better life for yourself is possible. I was very surprised to find that there was a relatively large community of Black people living abroad and our footprint was worldwide. Connecting with this community transformed my overseas experience and made my life abroad so much more enjoyable. This inspired me to create an effort called XpatChats to spread awareness about the Black expat community. Highlighting experiences and stories of Black people living abroad, given the current social climate, and sharing the stories of us living freely all over the world, has empowered me because living freely, is a form of resistance against oppression.
You can do this, ladies. Just map it out and go for it.
Nicole Files-Thompson, Ph.D | Relocated to Hanover, Jamaica
From: Baltimore, MD
Instagram:@_goalslayer
I have always loved Jamaica, and Jamaican tourism. I remember the first time I visited, it felt like home. It was so refreshing to be in a Black country, seeing people who looked like me--on Billboards, on TV, as news anchors, in advertisements.Over the years, I fell in love with the culture and have brought many of my students, friends, and family around the country to fall in love with it like I have.
Currently, I am a professor at Lincoln University, PA and I moved here on a Fulbright grant through the U.S. Department of State. Though my stay here is not yet permanent, it is indefinite, dependent upon grants, my ability to teach online etc. I am working on making it permanent within the next 5-7 years.
My spirit is settled here. My favorite thing to do is take a drive and stop at small beaches. There are so many beautiful beaches in Jamaica that you can have all to yourself.
Everything moves at a much slower pace; patience was a huge learning curve. There is a lot of "paper" and face-to-face required to handle business affairs. The attitude of just letting things go fills the air. Culturally, there is an understanding that many things are out of your control, why worry about what you can't control.
Jamaica, no problem.
There's also an incredible sense of community, everyone knows everyone where you live. There are no strangers. I have six mango trees in my yard, and people coming and collecting them in the mornings. Something that might make people call the police in the U.S., but it's normal here. The trees bear more mangoes than I could eat in a year. So they are for everyone to enjoy.
Basically, adaptation requires patience and going with the flow. I've had to change my consumption habits: electricity is expensive, so even though it is hot, I can't run the AC all day. My diet has been altered; I instead eat fresh or farmed foods instead of packaged.
Given the recent events, I feel much safer in Jamaica, in comparison to the political, public health, and racial climate in the U.S. The decisiveness of the government to protect the health of its citizens alone, stands apart from what I've heard about the issues in America.
Moreover, though Jamaican citizens are not all in agreement about the measures that the government takes, they adhere to those measures.
I've gained a new perspective I have gained about "Americanness" by being on the outside looking in. I'm even embarrassed by the way our government and many citizens have behaved during this pandemic. In terms of BLM movement, it has been difficult to watch from afar, as race is shaped much differently in Jamaica. However, the movement has sparked support from even the Jamaican Prime Minister who addressed police brutality in the U.S., and George Floyd specifically.
And although, I haven't necessarily felt overwhelmed, I've admittedly felt unprepared or lonely. This was such a strange time to be living in another country. But I have learned that I am strong and I can adapt to any situation. I've learned that I can be flexible, I can figure things out, and family isn't only blood.
My Jamaican family looked out and cared for me too.
Feature image by Shutterstock
Originally published on July 21, 2020
- How To Move Abroad To Ghana, Native Borne - xoNecole: Women's Interest, Love, Wellness, Beauty ›
- 5 Tips For Moving Abroad - xoNecole: Women's Interest, Love, Wellness, Beauty ›
- Top Worst Countries For Black Tourists - xoNecole: Women's Interest, Love, Wellness, Beauty ›
- Best and Worst Countries For Black Women Travelers - xoNecole: Women's Interest, Love, Wellness, Beauty ›
- BEST: Turkey - xoNecole: Women's Interest, Love, Wellness, Beauty ›
Charmin Michelle is a southern native and creative spirit who works as a content marketer and events manager in Chicago. She enjoys traveling, #SummertimeChi, and the journey of mastering womanhood. Connect with her on Instagram @charminmichelle.
Amber Riley has the type of laugh that sticks with you long after the raspy, rhythmic sounds have ceased. It punctuates her sentences sometimes, whether she’s giving a chuckle to denote the serious nature of something she just said or throwing her head back in rip-roarious laughter after a joke. She laughs as if she understands the fragility of each minute. She chooses laughter often with the understanding that future joy is not guaranteed.
Credit: Ally Green
The sound of her laughter is rivaled only by her singing voice, an emblem of the past and the future resilience of Black women stretched over a few octaves. On Fox’s Glee, her character Mercedes Jones was portrayed, perhaps unfairly, as the vocal duel to Rachel Berry (Lea Michele), offering rough, full-throated belts behind her co-star’s smooth, pristine vocals. Riley’s always been more than the singer who could deliver a finishing note, though.
Portraying Effie White, she displayed the dynamic emotions of a song such as “And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going” in Dreamgirls on London’s West End without buckling under the historic weight of her predecessors. With her instrument, John Mayer’s “Gravity” became a religious experience, a belted hymnal full of growls and churchy riffs. In her voice, Nicole Scherzinger once said she heard “the power of God.”
Credit: Ally Green
Riley’s voice has been a staple throughout pop culture for nearly 15 years now. Her tone has become so distinguishable that most viewers of Fox’s The Masked Singer recognized the multihyphenate even before it was revealed that she was Harp, the competition-winning, gold-masked figure with an actual harp strapped to her back.
Still, it wasn’t until recently that Riley began to feel like she’d found her voice. This sounds unbelievable. But she’s not referring to the one she uses on stage. She’s referencing the voice that speaks to who she is at her core. “Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind,” the 37-year-old says. “It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women. I got so comfortable in [doing so], and I really want other people, especially Black women, to get more comfortable in that space.”
“Therapy kind of gave me the training to speak my mind. It’s not something we’re taught, especially as Black women."
If you ask Riley’s manager, Myisha Brooks, she’ll tell you the foundation of who the multihyphenate is hasn’t changed much since she was a kid growing up in Compton. “She is who she is from when I met her back when she was singing in the front of the church to back when she landed major roles in film and TV,” Brooks says. Time has allowed Riley to grow more comfortable, giving fans a more intimate glimpse into her life, including her mental health journey and the ins and outs of show business.
The actress/singer has been in therapy since 2019, although she suffered from depression and anxiety way before that. In a recent interview with Jason Lee, she recalls having suicidal ideation as a kid. By the time she started seeing a psychologist and taking antidepressants in her thirties, her body had become jittery, a physical reminder of the trauma stacked high inside her. “I was shaking in [my therapist’s] office,” she tells xoNecole. “My fight or flight was on such a high level. I was constantly in survival mode. My heart was beating fast all the time. All I did was sweat.”
There wasn’t just childhood trauma to account for. After auditioning for American Idol and being turned away by producers, Riley began working for Ikea and nearly missed her Glee audition because her car broke down on the highway while en route. Thankfully, Riley had been cast to play Mercedes Jones. American Idol had temporarily convinced her she wasn’t cut out for the entertainment industry, but this was validation that she was right where she belonged. Glee launched in 2009 with the promise of becoming Riley’s big break.
In some ways, it was. The show introduced Riley to millions of fans and catapulted her into major Hollywood circles. But in other ways, it became a reminder of the types of roles Black women, especially those who are plus-sized, are relegated to. Behind the scenes, Riley says she fought for her character "to have a voice" but eventually realized her efforts were useless. "It finally got to a point where I was like, this is not my moment. I'm not who they're choosing, and this is just going to have to be a job for me for now," she says. "And, that's okay because it pays my bills, I still get to be on television, I'm doing more than any other Black plus-sized women that I'm seeing right now on screen."
The actress can recognize now that she was navigating issues associated with trauma and low self-esteem at the time. She now knows that she's long had anxiety and depression and can recognize the ways in which she was triggered by how the cult-like following of the show conflicted with her individual, isolated experiences behind the scenes. But she was in her early '20s back then. She didn't yet have the language or the tools to process how she was feeling.
Riley says she eventually sought out medical intervention. "When you're in Hollywood, and you go to a doctor, they give you pills," she says, sharing a part of her story that she'd never revealed publicly before now. "[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that's not fixing my problem. If anything, it's making it worse."
“[I was] on medication and developing a habit of medicating to numb, not understanding I was developing an addiction to something that’s not fixing my problem. If anything it’s making it worse.”
Credit: Ally Green
At one point, while in her dressing room on set, she rested her arm on a curling iron without realizing it. It wasn't until her makeup artist alerted her that she even realized her skin was burning. Once she noticed, she says she was "so zonked out on pills" that she barely reacted. Speaking today, she holds up her arm and motions towards a scar that remains from the incident. She sought help for her reliance on the pills, but it would still be years before she finally attended therapy.
This stress was only compounded by the trauma of growing up in poverty and the realities of being a "contract worker." "Imagine going from literally one week having to borrow a car to get to set to the next week being on a private jet to New York City," she says. After Glee ended, so did the rides on private planes. The fury of opportunities she expected to follow her appearance on the show failed to materialize. She wasn't even 30 yet, and she was already forced to consider if she'd hit her career peak.
. . .
We’re only four minutes into our Zoom call before Riley delivers her new adage to me. “My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway,” she says.
On this Thursday afternoon in April, the LA-based entertainer is seated inside her closet/dressing room wearing a cerulean blue tank top with matching shorts and eating hot wings. This current phase of healing hinges on balance. It’s about having discipline and consistency, but not at the risk of inflexibility. She was planning to head to the gym, for instance, but she’s still tired from the “exhausting” day before. Instead, she’s spent her day receiving a massage, eating some chicken wings, and planning to spend quality time with friends. “I’m not going to beat myself up for it. I’m not going to talk down to myself. I’m going to eat my chicken wings, and then tomorrow I’m [back] in the gym,” she says.
“My new mantra is ‘humility does not serve me.’ Humility does not serve Black women. The world works so hard to humble us anyway."
This is the balance with which she's been approaching much of her life these days. It's why she's worried less about whether or not people see her as someone who is humble. She'd rather be respected. "I think you should be a person that's easy to work with, but in the moments where I have to ruffle feathers and make waves, I'm not shying away from that anymore. You can do it in love, you don't have to be nasty about it, but I had to finally be comfortable with the fact that setting boundaries around my life – in whatever aspect, whether that's personal or business – people are not going to like it. Some people are not going to have nice things to say about you, and you gotta be okay with it," she says.
When Amber talks about the constant humbling of Black women in Hollywood, I think of the entertainers before her who have suffered from this. The brilliant, consistent, overqualified Black women who have spoken of having to fight for opportunities and fair pay. Aretha Franklin. Viola Davis. Tracee Ellis Ross. There's a long list of stars whose success hasn't mirrored their experiences behind the scenes.
Credit: Ally Green
If Black women outside of Hollywood are struggling to decrease the pay gap, so, too, are their wealthier, more famous peers.
Riley says there’s been progress in recent years, but only in small ways and for a limited group of people. “This business is exhausting. The goalpost is constantly moving, and sometimes it’s unfair,” she says. But, I have to say it’s the love that keeps you going.”
“There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman,” she continues. “We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
"There’s no way you can continue to be in this business and not love it, especially being a plus-sized Black woman. We’re still niche. We’re still not main characters.”
Last year, Riley starred alongside Raven Goodwin in the Lifetime thriller Single Black Female (a modern, diversified take on 1992’s Single White Female). It was more than a leading role for the actress, it also served as proof that someone who looks like her can front a successful project without it hinging on her identity. It showcased that the characters she portrays don’t “have to be about being a big girl. It can just be a regular story.”
Riley sees her work in music as an extension of her efforts to push past the rigid stereotypes in entertainment. Take her appearance on The Masked Singer, for instance. Riley said she decided to perform Mayer’s “Gravity” after being told she couldn’t sing it years earlier. “I wanted to do ‘Gravity’ on Glee. [I] was told no, because that’s not a song that Mercedes would do,” she says. “That was a full circle moment for me, doing that on that show and to hear what it is they had to say.”
As Scherzinger praised the “anointed” performance, a masked Riley began to cry, her chest heaving as she stood on stage, her eyes shielded from view. “You have to understand, I have really big names – casting directors, producers, show creators – that constantly tell me ‘I’m such a big fan. Your talent is unmatched.’ Hire me, then,” she says, reflecting on the moment.
Recently, she’s been in the studio working on original music, the follow-up to her independently-released debut EP, 2020’s Riley. The sequel to songs such as the anthemic “Big Girl Energy” and the reflective ballad “A Moment” on Riley, this new project hones in on the singer’s R&B roots with sensual grooves such as the tentatively titled “All Night.” “You said I wasn’t shit, turns out that I’m the shit. Then you called me a bitch, turns out that I’m that bitch. You said no one would want me, well you should call your homies,” she sings on the tentatively titled “Lately,” a cut about reflecting on a past relationship. From the forthcoming project, xoNecole received five potential tracks. Fans likely already know the strengths and contours of Riley’s vocals, but these new songs are her strongest, most confident offerings as an artist.
“I am so much more comfortable as a writer, and I know who I am as an artist now. I’m evolving as a human being, in general, so I’m way more vulnerable in my music. I’m way more willing to talk about whatever is on my mind. I don’t stop myself from saying what it is I want to say,” she says.
Credit: Ally Green
“Every era and alliteration of Amber, the baseline is ‘Big Girl Energy.’ That’s the name of her company,” her manager Brooks says, referencing the imprint through which Riley releases her music after getting out of a label deal several years ago. “It’s just what she stands for. She’s not just talking about size, it’s in all things. Whether it’s putting your big girl pants on and having to face a boardroom full of executives or sell yourself in front of a casting agent. It’s her trying to achieve the things she wants to do in life.”
Riley says she has big dreams beyond releasing this new music, too. She’d love to star in a rom-com with Winston Duke. She hasn't starred in a biopic yet, but she’d revel in the opportunity to portray Rosetta Tharpe on screen. She’s determined that her previous setbacks won’t stop her from dreaming big.
“I think one of my superpowers is resilience because, at the end of the day, I’m going to kick, scream, cry, cuss, be mad and disappointed, but I’m going to get up and risk having to deal with it all again. It’s worth it for the happy moments,” she says.
If Riley seems more comfortable and confident professionally, it’s because of the work she’s been doing in her personal life.
She’d previously spoken to xoNecole about becoming engaged to a man she discovered in a post on the site, but she called things off last year. For Valentine’s Day, she revealed her new boyfriend publicly. “I decided to post him on Valentine’s Day, partially because I was in the dog house. I got in trouble with him,” she says, half-joking before turning serious. “The breakup was never going to stop me from finding love. Or at least trying. I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness, and you enjoy it and work through it.”
Credit: Ally Green
"I don’t owe anybody a happily ever after. People break up. It happens. When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was terrible, hunny. I had to get the fuck up out of there. You find happiness and you enjoy it and work through it.”
With her ex, Riley was pretty outspoken about her relationship, even appearing in content for Netflix with him. This time around is different. She’s not hiding her boyfriend of eight months, but she’s more protective of him, especially because he’s a father and isn’t interested in becoming a public figure.
She’s traveling more, too. It’s a deliberate effort on her part to enjoy her money and reject the trauma she’s developed after experiencing poverty in her childhood. “I live in constant fear of being broke. I don’t think you ever don’t remember that trauma or move past that. Now I travel and I’m like, listen, if it goes, it goes. I’m not saying [to] be reckless, but I deserve to enjoy my hard work.”
After everything she’s been through, she certainly deserves to finally let loose a bit. “I have to have a life to live,” she says. “I’ve got to have a life worth fighting for.”
Credits
Director of Content: Jasmine Grant
Campaign Manager: Chantal Gainous
Managing Editor: Sheriden Garrett
Creative Director/Executive Producer: Tracey Woods
Cover Designer: Tierra Taylor
Photographer: Ally Green
Photo Assistant: Avery Mulally
Digital Tech: Kim Tran
Video by Third and Sunset
DP & Editor: Sam Akinyele
2nd Camera: Skylar Smith
Camera Assistant: Charles Belcher
Stylist: Casey Billingsley
Hairstylist: DaVonte Blanton
Makeup Artist: Drini Marie
Production Assistants: Gade De Santana, Apu Gomes
Powered by: European Wax Center
Janelle Monáe's Reveals The Real Reason Why She Stopped Wearing Her Signature Tuxedos
Singer and actress Janelle Monáe exemplifies how change can be a powerful catalyst for growth and transformation.
Monáe, who rose to fame in 2010 following the release of her debut album, The ArchAndroid, captivated fans' hearts with her powerful vocals, catchy tunes, and style. Around that time period, when various female artists were known to wear provocative ensembles on stage, the "Tightrope" songstress set herself apart by wearing her signature black and white suits and continued to do so for almost a decade.
In the later years of her career, after the release of her studio albums The Electric Lady in 2013 and 2018's Dirty Computer, many began to notice the shift in Monáe's artistry and fashion, which some widely praised.
Although the now 37-year-old rarely addressed the reason behind the transformation over the years, that would all change when Monáe sat down with radio personality Angie Martinez on her IRL podcast earlier this month.
During the interview, Monáe --who was promoting her latest album, "The Age of Pleasure"-- opened up about her mental health struggles, how she would cope, and why she chose to live in freedom.
Janelle On Why She Stopped Wearing Her Signature Suits All the Time
Janelle Monáe
Photo by Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images
In the May discussion, the "I Like That" vocalist revealed she suffers from anxiety, which she claimed would occur around "winter to spring."
Monáe added that when she has her bouts with anxiety, she tends to turn to food as a coping mechanism. Further in the interview, the "Lipstick Lover" singer disclosed that her emotional eating habits caused a weight fluctuation and that she could no longer fit into the suits she once wore earlier in her career.
Monáe explained that even though she tried to diet and exercise to return to her smaller figure, she ultimately stopped and made peace with herself with the help of therapy because she acknowledged that she isn't the same person she was nearly a decade ago and shouldn't try to be even if it was a highly "celebrated" version.
"I'm petite, but it can get thick... When I couldn't fit them suits anymore, and I was like, 'Oh my God, what is going on?' I would be dieting, running, or exercising, trying to fit into [it]. I'm just like, 'No. No, we're here. This is where we are.' We [are] not about to be utilizing life trying to be an old version of ourselves. No matter how celebrated that version of me was. I'm here. I'm here," she said.
Janelle On Freedom
As the topic shifted to freedom and what that meant to Monáe, the "Primetime" vocalist shared that in this new era of her life, she enjoys it because she can boldly express herself however she wants and honor who she is as a person right now.
Monáe also revealed that she had found ways to become a better artist and the best version of herself because of her freedom.
"What is the new version of freedom? What does that feel like? That's usually when I feel the most free is when artistically, I can honor exactly who I am right now," she stated. "I feel most free as a human when I can honor exactly who I am right now."
Monáe's fourth studio album, The Age of Pleasure, is set to be released on June 9.
Let’s make things inbox official! Sign up for the xoNecole newsletter for daily love, wellness, career, and exclusive content delivered straight to your inbox.
Feature image by Rachpoot/Bauer-Griffin/GC Images