Even if you're scared.
Even If You’re Scared is a podcast about showing up for your life… even when you don’t feel ready.
Hosted by Sil, a Black, queer, transmasculine person, this space holds honest conversations about identity, love, grief, becoming, and everything in between. It’s about carrying loss while still making room for hope—and learning how to live with both at the same time.
Some episodes go into the heavy things.
Other days, we laugh, talk about music, books, culture, relationships, and the moments that make life feel good again.
Nothing here is overly polished or perfect. This is a space for honesty—for the hard, the soft, and everything in between.
Occasionally, there may be special guests where we bounce ideas, stories, and perspectives off each other for deeper conversation and connection.
If you’re figuring it out as you go… you’re not alone here.
Even if you're scared.
The Quiet After the Flags Came Down
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The calendar changed.
But nothing else did.
A deeply personal conversation about the emotional comedown after Pride Month, the parallels it shares with Juneteenth and other moments of collective remembrance, and the question that's been lingering ever since:
Why does kindness so often feel conditional?
An honest reflection on visibility, moral exhaustion, frustration, hope, and the choice to keep showing up for one another—even after the awareness month ends.
If this episode felt familiar in any way—like your mind, your room, your routines, or your quiet—you’re not alone in it.
You can reach out anytime at 7amkingsil@gmail.com or on Instagram @abstract_catalyst. Messages don’t need to be perfect. They don’t need to be important. They just need to be yours.
Everything sent gets read. Even if it takes time to sit with it.
And wherever you are right now—whether you’re moving fast, standing still, or somewhere in between—you don’t have to force clarity out of it today.
Just keep going gently.
Even if it’s messy.
Even if it’s uncertain.
Even if you’re scared.
Friday is over. And I woke up and I thought that's it. Um not in a not a dramatic way. Uh not in a devastated way, just in like a quiet, almost confusing way. Like something just got turned off. And it wasn't ready to be turned off. The flags come down and the ads change, the rainbow logos disappear. The corporate statements go back into drafts until next year, and suddenly the world feels a little quieter. But nothing about me changed. I'm still here, I'm still queer, still black, still trans, still moving through the world exactly the same way I was last week. So I keep asking myself what exactly ended? Hi, and welcome back to Even If You're Scared, where we talk about the things that we're carrying, the things we're becoming, and the things we notice when the world stops paying attention. I'm still in today, I'm feeling a lot of things at once. I'm fucking angry. I'm sad, I'm frustrated. And I'm feeling this this this uh this weird kind of emptiness that inconveniently comes after a month where everything is supposed to feel seen. Why do we keep doing this? Why does care feel seasonal? Like visibility is temporary and empathy feels scheduled. Pride month ends, Juneteenth passes, Black History Month ends, women's history month ends. And then what? Do we just go back to normal? What the fuck is normal? I'm tired of feeling this lowness as soon as the calendar page turns. I feel like we fade into darkness. We fade into black, like our colors are muted. Like we're equipped with these signs that say, okay, it's no longer Black History Month or Pride Month or Women's History Month. You can harass us now. And I and I'm not naive to think that all of the like hate stops during these months or these time periods, but I do think that we get, you know, a moment to shine a little brighter. And we we're able to like walk outside out loud and proud. And it shouldn't be just because it's Pride Month or because it's Black History Month or Juneteenth or whatever. I don't like this feeling, and I don't think I can shrug it off anymore. It gets heavier and heavier each time. I think what's been getting to me is the feeling that awareness has an expiration date. Like there are moments where people are allowed to care about us, and then after that we're supposed to just exist quietly again. It's not just pride, it's Juneteenth, it's Black History Month. It's every moment where the world suddenly decides it's appropriate to care. And don't get me wrong, I understand that visibility matters, I understand that celebration matters and acknowledgement matters, but something about the way it ends always, it just feels so strange. Like the care was scheduled, and empathy is something that we rotate in and out of the calendar. Like our humanity is seasonal, and I don't fucking like that. I don't know how to explain this without sounding angry because I am angry. I'm also exhausted. I feel like I've been repeating myself. Like we all have. It's not just me. I know I'm not the only person that feels this. I'm fucking tired. Something in me has changed. I've started noticing people differently, the way they show up, the way they disappear, the way they perform care when it's convenient, and the way they forget it when it's not. And I don't like that I notice that now, but I do. Because once you see it, you can't really unsee it. People shouldn't need a reason to be kind. That's the part I keep coming back to. It's not pride, it's not Juneteenth, it's not awareness campaigns, it's just basic fucking decency. Why does it require a campaign or a hashtag? Why does it require a special month? I'm frustrated. I'm frustrated with how conditional everything feels and how quickly people move on and how easy it is for the world to decide something is over, because nothing is over for the people still living it. And underneath the anger, there's something else, the sadness, because a part of me still wants to believe people are better than this, that care isn't just performative, that attention isn't seasonal, empathy isn't something you turn on and off. It's not a fucking light switch. But I keep getting evidence that makes that harder and harder to believe. And I don't like what that does to me because I don't want to walk through this world assuming the worst about people. That's not who I want to be. It's not how I like feeling. But I also don't want to ignore what I'm seeing. So I'm stuck somewhere in between, between hope and disappointment and softness and protection, and just believing in people and then questioning them. Maybe the problem isn't that pride ends or Juneteenth ends or Black History Month ends. Maybe the problem is that we treat care like it has a season. Like empathy is something we rotate in and out of a calendar. Like people only deserve to be seen sometimes. And I don't think that's sustainable anymore, not for me. I don't want kindness and cycles, I don't want visibility and seasons, I don't want empathy as a limited time offer. I just want something simpler, something more consistent, something more human. A world where people don't need permission to care. And I don't know how we get there, but I know I'm not okay pretending that this feels normal anymore. So I don't really know what this episode is. It's frustration, maybe it's grief, maybe it's clarity I didn't ask for. Maybe it's all three. What I do know is I don't want kindness in seasons and empathy in cycles and humanity on a calendar. I just want us to be better to each other. Not because it's June or February or because someone told us it was the right thing to do, but because people deserve dignity every single day. This was a short one today. Thank you for spending time with me, and thank you for listening. And thank you for continuing to show up for me for this podcast, for everything, and hopefully for each other. If this episode resonated with you, I'd love to hear from you. Feel free to send me a DM on Instagram at abstract underscore catalyst, or email me at the number sevenam Kingsill at gmail dot com. I really do read everything, and please feel free to share the episode with someone you think needs to hear it. Those conversations mean so much to me, and they help this little community continue to grow. And of course, rate, share, like. Um don't forget to turn on your notifications so you do know when a new episode has landed as well. Um I am so grateful that you spent this time with me. Thank you again for being here. This is even if you're scared. I'm still.