John Henryism
being a black man means carrying a weight you didn’t always choose.
sometimes it’s the weight of your last name.
sometimes it’s the weight of being the first or only.
and sometimes, it’s the pressure to never crack even when you’re breaking inside.
john henry died proving he was stronger than the machine.
a lot of us still out here doing the same.
trying to outwork our pain.
trying to outrun our flaws.
trying to prove we’re good enough through grind alone.
but here’s the truth:
you can’t heal what you won’t acknowledge.
you can’t love right when you’re still ashamed of your own wounds.
you can’t be the father or partner you want to be if you never slow down long enough to look in the mirror.
as a trucker, i’ve had a lot of time to sit with my silence.
to admit when i got it wrong.
to face the ways i shut down or pushed people away.
to own the parts of me that need work not just for me, but for the people who love me anyway.
growth ain’t about being perfect.
it’s about being honest.
accountable.
willing to shift.
that’s the real strength.
not how much you carry but what you’re willing to let go of.
⸻
5 tips for breaking the cycle:
1. give yourself grace.
you’re human. you’re learning. don’t confuse survival mode with failure.
2. stop equating worth with work.
you are more than your hustle. your presence matters, not just your paycheck.
3. communicate through fear, not around it.
when you’re scared of messing up, say that. honesty builds more trust than silence ever will.
4. take breaks before you break.
rest isn’t weakness. it’s resistance. it’s preservation.
5. find safe spaces.
whether it’s therapy, brotherhood, or journaling you need somewhere to put the truth down without being judged.
#FatherhoodUnfiltered
#HealingWhileDriving
#FromHustleToHealing
When I first heard the term 'John Henryism,' it hit me hard because it perfectly described a struggle I, and so many like me, have been living. Essentially, John Henryism refers to a coping strategy where individuals, often those facing chronic psychosocial stressors like systemic racism or socioeconomic hardship, develop a high-effort coping style. It's like constantly pushing yourself to overcome challenges through sheer mental and physical exertion, even when it takes a toll on your health. We saw it with the legendary John Henry, who died trying to out-compete a machine. In our lives, it’s about outworking the system, outrunning prejudice, and proving our worth through relentless hustle. For years, I believed that my value was directly tied to how much I could endure, how much I could achieve despite adversity. This mindset is deeply ingrained in what some call 'Hustle Culture,' and for many of us, it’s not just about ambition; it feels like survival. The OCR resonated deeply with me: 'Daily reminder that Hustle Culture is yt supremacy. Rest nigga. Frolic if you can.' It's a stark truth. This relentless pursuit often comes at a huge cost: our mental health, our physical well-being, and our relationships. I’ve experienced the burnout, the constant low hum of anxiety, and the feeling of never quite being enough. It’s hard to admit when you're struggling because society often tells us that vulnerability is a weakness, especially for men, and even more so for Black men. We're expected to be pillars of strength, to carry the burdens of our families and communities without complaint. But carrying that weight silently, trying to 'outwork our pain' or 'outrun our flaws,' only leads to deeper wounds. My time on the road as a trucker has really given me perspective. It’s in those quiet moments that you start to face truths you’ve been avoiding. I've learned that truly breaking the cycle of John Henryism means consciously choosing to prioritize healing over hustling. It means understanding that 'rest isn’t weakness. It’s resistance. It’s preservation.' It's about giving yourself permission to 'frolic' – to find joy, peace, and stillness without guilt. It's about finding strength in vulnerability and accountability, not just in endurance. We need to create safe spaces, whether it’s with trusted friends, in therapy, or through journaling, where we can truly put the truth down without judgment and begin the real work of self-healing and growth.