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Understanding Racial Identity Erasure: What I Learned Working With Marcus

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For BIPOC Professionals Experiencing Workplace Erasure and Racial Trauma


A Note on Client Confidentiality: This article draws from composite clinical experiences across multiple clients in my practice. All identifying information has been thoroughly anonymized to protect client confidentiality. "Marcus" represents patterns I observe regularly, not a single individual. The clinical insights and interventions described are real; the specific details have been altered to ensure privacy.

When Marcus first came to my practice, he didn't use the word "erasure." He said he felt "invisible" at work, despite being the only Black senior director at his tech company. He was exhausted in ways his white colleagues couldn't understand, and he'd started wondering if maybe he was "too sensitive" about race.


Marcus's experience represents one of dozens of similar presentations I encounter in my therapy room every month. Whether it's Keisha describing how her legal expertise is consistently questioned while her white peers are presumed competent, or David explaining how his Indigenous identity is treated as a "fun fact" rather than central to who he is, the pattern is unmistakable.


Racial identity erasure isn't occasional. It's relentless. And what I learned from working with these clients ultimately shaped how I practice therapy and why I created a specific tool to help.


What is Racial Identity Erasure?


Erasure is more than being overlooked. It's a psychological mechanism where aspects of your racial and cultural identity are systematically made invisible, denied, or rewritten to maintain others' comfort.

Experiencing these signs? Try Affirmed free for 3 days. Start your free trial →

Here's how it works. When your whole identity (your Blackness, your cultural expressions, your lived experiences of racism) creates discomfort for those around you, erasure allows them to "disappear" the parts of you that would require them to examine their own complicity in racist systems.

The purpose is twofold.

  • First, for them, it maintains their psychological comfort. They don't have to examine privilege, feel guilt, or change.

  • Second, for the system, your erasure preserves the status quo. When your contributions go unacknowledged and your perspective is excluded, power structures stay intact.


Marcus's Story: Five Signs You're Being Erased


What made Marcus's case significant wasn't its uniqueness. It was how typical it was. Here are the signs we identified together, signs I see repeatedly.


1. You're Constantly Exhausted in Ways Others Don't Understand


Marcus described bone-deep fatigue that had nothing to do with his workload. He was constantly calculating. How much of himself to reveal? How to phrase his experience so it wouldn't trigger defensive reactions? How to exist without taking up "too much" space?

This is identity negotiation labor. It's the mental and emotional work of managing how others perceive you. When you're constantly monitoring yourself to avoid erasure, it drains you at a fundamental level.

One day, Marcus said something that stayed with me. "I'm tired of translating myself into language that makes white people comfortable. But if I don't, I disappear completely."


2. You Feel Split Between "Acceptable" and "Authentic" Self


Marcus had developed two versions of himself. "Work Marcus" code-switched constantly, laughed at racial jokes "to keep the peace," never mentioned his family's migration story from the South, and even let colleagues shorten his name without permission.

"Real Marcus" only came out at home, with his Black friends, or in therapy.

Over time, he shared something with me that broke my heart. "I don't even know who I am anymore. The mask feels more real than my face."

This split isn't just a performance. It's a protective response. When your authentic self is repeatedly rejected or erased, you create an acceptable version of yourself. But living in that split causes profound pain.


3. Your Contributions Are Consistently Attributed to Others


In one particularly painful session, Marcus described watching his white colleague present his entire strategy proposal. These were ideas Marcus had spent weeks developing. His colleague received praise from leadership.

When Marcus mentioned he'd originally conceived the framework, his boss said, "Oh, right, but Jake really crystallized it."

He looked at me and said something I'll never forget. "It's like I was never in that room. Like my ideas don't exist until a white person says them."

This isn't a simple oversight. It's a pattern where your existence and contributions only matter when validated by proximity to whiteness.


4. Your Reality Is Constantly Invalidated


Perhaps most damaging was what happened when Marcus named racism.

"You're being too sensitive."

"That's not what they meant."

"You're making everything about race."

Over time, Marcus began doubting his own perceptions. He'd come to sessions asking questions that crushed me. "Am I crazy? Did that actually happen the way I remember it?"

This is what happens when your emotional reality is repeatedly dismissed. You start policing your own thoughts, questioning your own judgment, losing trust in what you know to be true.


5. You're Praised as "The Exception"


Marcus was often told he was "so articulate" or "not like other Black people." These comments, disguised as compliments, carried an implicit message. You're acceptable because you're different from them.

He told me how it felt. "Every time someone says that, I feel like I'm betraying every Black person who came before me. Like accepting the compliment means agreeing that other Black people are less than."

These comments create an impossible choice. Accept conditional approval by distancing yourself from your community, or reject it and risk the little acceptance you've been granted. Either way, you lose.


The Problem I Kept Running Into


Here's what I observed after years of this work. Clients like Marcus would do powerful sessions with me. We'd process racial trauma, practice naming erasure in real-time, and develop strategies for reclaiming their authentic selves. They'd leave feeling grounded and clear.

Then they'd return to environments actively erasing them for the entire week before our next session.


One hour of affirmation couldn't compete with constant erasure. The progress we made in sessions would be undone by Tuesday morning. I watched clients I deeply cared about slowly lose ground. Not because our work wasn't effective, but because erasure happens daily and therapy happens weekly.


What Actually Helped: Five Interventions That Work


Through working with Marcus and dozens of clients facing similar experiences, I developed specific practices that made a difference.


1. Witnessing Practice: Name What's Happening in Real-Time


Erasure thrives when you're isolated and silent. I taught Marcus to witness and name what was happening as it happened.

"I notice my contribution was just attributed to Jake."

"I'm aware I'm code-switching right now."

"I see that my perspective was excluded from this decision."

This breaks the unconscious cycle. Witnessing prevents you from dissociating or doubting yourself. It reinstates you as the authority on your own experience, even when others deny it.


2. Separate Your Voice From the Internalized Oppressor


Through repeated erasure, Marcus had internalized a critical voice that mirrored external invalidation. "Maybe I am too sensitive." "Maybe I should just be grateful." "Maybe I'm imagining things."

We worked on recognizing this voice as separate from his authentic self. That critical voice? It wasn't his wisdom. It was racism that had gotten inside his head.

Once he could identify it, he could challenge it. "That's not me talking. That's what they want me to believe about myself."


3. Trust Your Emotional Reality


Marcus's anger at racism was information. His grief over erasure was valid. His frustration with performative allyship was justified.

A critical shift happened when he gave himself permission to feel what he felt without adding shame. Not uncontrolled expression at work, but internal permission to have his emotions without questioning them.

Your feelings in response to racism aren't the problem. Racism is the problem.


4. Reclaim the Small Symbols


We worked on what I call symbolic reclamation. Using his full name, not the nickname white colleagues assigned. Mentioning his family's history in meetings. Refusing to translate cultural concepts into sanitized language. Taking up the space his expertise earned him.

These may seem small, but they reinforced something essential. Your authentic self has a right to exist without apology.


5. Find Spaces Where You Don't Have to Perform


Perhaps most importantly, Marcus identified relationships and spaces where he didn't have to manage the false self. His Black professional group. His cousin. Therapy.

These spaces reminded him that authentic connection is possible, that he's not crazy, and that the problem is the racist environment, not him.

Want these practices delivered daily? Affirmed provides personalized identity affirmation based on these therapeutic principles. Try it free for 3 days →


Why I Created Affirmed: What Therapy Alone Couldn't Provide


The interventions worked. Marcus made real progress. But I kept hitting the same limitation.

I couldn't be there on Tuesday morning when he was being erased in a meeting.

I couldn't text him Thursday night when internalized gaslighting was spiraling.

I couldn't interrupt the 3 am thoughts when he was questioning his own sanity.

My clients needed daily reinforcement that weekly therapy couldn't provide. They needed immediate, accessible support when erasure attacked, which was constantly.

This gap led me to create Affirmed, a custom AI companion designed to provide the support my clients needed between our sessions.


In my work as a certified psychoanalyst specializing in racial trauma and identity affirmation therapy, I've come to understand that traditional therapy, while powerful, has structural limitations. Affirmed isn't a chatbot spitting generic positivity. It's built on the same principles that work in my therapy room.


Daily witnessing of your racial identity and experiences. Interruption of internalized oppression through targeted, culturally-specific affirmations. Validation of your emotional reality when the world is telling you you're wrong. Language that centers your identity rather than asking you to translate it. Immediate support when erasure happens, before your next therapy session.

It provides what I wish I could give every client: consistent, culturally informed affirmation, accessible exactly when you need it.


What Changed for Marcus


Six months into our work (weekly therapy supplemented by daily engagement with Affirmed), Marcus described something profound.

"I feel like I'm becoming whole again. Not that racism stopped. But it's not inside my head anymore, telling me I'm wrong about what I'm experiencing. I trust myself again."

Here's what shifted.

He could observe and name erasure without falling apart. The gap between "work Marcus" and "real Marcus" narrowed significantly. He trusted his perceptions of racism again. His emotions felt like information, not problems. He felt like one person, not fragments performing different roles.


Marcus stayed at his company, but on different terms. He stopped code-switching in meetings. He pushed back when contributions were attributed to others. He used his full name. He set boundaries around emotional labor.

And most importantly, he stopped letting erasure colonize his thoughts.


What Affirmed Doesn't Do (Important Limitations)


Let me be clear about what this tool isn't.

It's not a replacement for therapy. If you're struggling with racial trauma, please work with a culturally competent therapist.

It's not crisis support. If you're in crisis, call 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline) or go to your nearest emergency room.


It doesn't solve racism. Systemic oppression requires collective action and institutional change.

It works best in conjunction with therapy, not as a substitute for it.

What it does do is provide consistent, daily support that helps you maintain the psychological boundaries and self-knowledge that protect you from internalizing erasure.


If This Resonates With You


If Marcus's story sounds familiar, know this.

You're not too sensitive.

You're not imagining things.

You're not crazy.

Erasure is absolute, and it does psychological damage. But it doesn't have to colonize your internal world.


Whether through therapy, daily affirmation tools like Affirmed, connection with the community, or a combination of all of the above, you can reclaim the parts of yourself that erasure has tried to diminish.

The opposite of erasure isn't just visibility. It's the deep, internal knowing that you exist, you matter, and your whole self deserves to take up space.


Ready to start interrupting erasure daily?

Try Affirmed Custom AI Companion free for 3 days.

Designed by a certified psychoanalyst who saw this pattern across dozens of clients. Built for the moments between therapy sessions when erasure attacks.



This article is for educational purposes and does not constitute therapy or medical advice. If you are experiencing mental health challenges related to racial trauma, please consult with a qualified mental health professional who specializes in racial identity, cultural competency, and trauma-informed care.

 
 
 

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