Why Do We Wait?
I was just sitting there for a minute,
watching the game, cooling off…
and we got into one of those random conversations.
He hit me with,
“we good though… that’s just how it is.”
And I get it.
I really do.
That’s how a lot of us grew up.
You don’t question too much.
You deal with it. You move on.
But I couldn’t shake it.
Why do we always wait?
Why does it gotta get worse
before it gets real?
Why it feel like by the time we talk about it,
it’s already something big?
And it’s not me trying to go against anybody.
It’s not me thinking I know more.
It’s just…
I see it differently.
I see how things build up.
I see how stuff gets brushed off.
I see how “we good” turns into something we didn’t have to go through.
And that’s frustrating.
Not at people.
Just at the pattern.
Some people accept it.
Some people question it.
I think both are just trying to make sense of what we were taught.
…but I’m still stuck on that question.
Why we always waiting?
#hATTRNextGen #KnowYourRootsKnowYourRisks #BlackHealthMatters #GenZPerspective #FamilyHealth
Reflecting on the question posed in this article, "Why do we always wait?", I realize that the pattern of delay is deeply embedded in many aspects of our lives, especially within communities where resilience often means enduring rather than confronting difficulties. From personal experience, I’ve seen how waiting can feel like a protective mechanism—avoiding conflict, preserving peace, or simply coping through denial. Yet, this often leads to problems growing larger and more complex. In my family, health issues were rarely discussed until they became emergencies. It was common to hear phrases like, "we good" or "that’s just how it is," signaling that questioning or addressing symptoms prematurely was discouraged. This approach stems from a historical context where questioning too much was seen as challenging authority or inviting unwanted attention. However, over time, ignoring early warning signs has resulted in more significant struggles that could have been mitigated with earlier action. The hashtags included, such as #hATTRNextGen and #KnowYourRootsKnowYourRisks, highlight the importance of awareness regarding hereditary health conditions and how waiting might exacerbate risks. Learning about diseases like hereditary ATTR amyloidosis reminds me that proactive health management, knowledge sharing, and breaking cycles of silence are crucial. Personal health stories shared among trusted circles can empower individuals to seek timely diagnoses and interventions. This pattern of waiting is also intertwined with cultural and generational attitudes. Some people accept the status quo as a form of survival, while others, like this article’s author, question it and seek deeper understanding. Recognizing this divide can help foster more open conversations within families and communities about mental health, chronic illness, and emotional wellbeing before situations become overwhelming. Ultimately, breaking the cycle requires intentional shifts — encouraging questioning, validating concerns, and prioritizing early conversations. From my journey, I’ve learned that it’s okay to challenge "we good" and to recognize that addressing issues early can prevent unnecessary suffering. Sharing this perspective within my network has started important dialogues around health and emotional openness, demonstrating that waiting isn’t the only way forward. This reflection invites readers to consider: How can we cultivate environments where addressing concerns early is valued over quiet endurance? By embracing such change, we honor both our ancestors’ strength and our present-day wellbeing.


















































