Whitney Houston Drug Addiction News: Whitney, Self-Worth and Success: Whose Life Will You Save?

I was sitting in the movies, when I saw the news on my iPhone.

Whitney Houston, dead, age 48.

Breath stops. Immediate flood of memories rush in my mind’s eye: breaking into tears the first time I heard Whitney sing, “I will Always Love You;” wearing bright yellow/green pants and pink headbands in the 80s to look as pretty as Whitney; all of us scratching our heads when she married Bobby Brown and the pride Black people experienced when she sang the Star Spangled Banner to open the Supper Bowl. I remember her version being played over the PA system in school because we were so proud. Next breath. Whitney Houston. Dead. A tub. Hotel room. Pills. Fade to black as I open my eyes in the dark movie theatre with the credits rolling.

It hasn’t been a sold 48 hours since the news broke. There will be lots of stories and suspicions about the cause of the death. The media is already fishing for an addiction angle. I am writing about Whitney because I want to talk about how self-worth and success may have been the ‘drug’ that cost Whitney her life.

As a little black girl from the ghettos of Baltimore, I have always wanted to be “big.” When I looked at TV, I saw Whitney Houston as the biggest winner of them all: beautiful, talented, and supported. Whitney became the standard of success in my young mind. I added to my cannon of ideals Mariah Carey, Janet Jackson, Celine Dion, Halle Barry, Angela Bassett, Tina Turner, Mary J.Blige, CC Winans, Oprah-any chick badass enough to be known by millions. I wanted to be ‘somebody.’ I kept asking God how come they are so successful and everything in my life was so hard. I have been envious, jealous, and spiteful of these incredible women. I have used them as my measuring stick for success. Can you relate? I questioned God-what about me? I’m a good person. I work hard. I give it everything I have. How come them, not me? Have you ever had that thought? It could at work, in your family or about someone famous. Well, I have and I have shaken an angry frustrated fist at the sky many times.

As I sat in the dark at the movies, I had a new thought. What must it have been like for Whitney to group up in her mother’s musical shadow (Cecily Houston)? Her aunt’s extraordinary career (Dionne Warwick)? And her Godmother’s (Aretha Franklin) sheer genius? Let me be clear: I am not blame her family for Whitney’s actions. We all walk our own path. I am suggesting that it is not hard to imagine how having such awesome influencers in your family could create a sense of having to prove oneself, a heavy dose of egoism, or a bone-deep level of insecurity covered by mascara and bravado. The ethos of the songs Whitney sang were directly influenced by, family, culture, and history. Women have been rewarded for identifying with their relationships. Especially immortalized in music. Soul songs. Blues songs. Songs about love, betrayal, and heartache.

The songs Whitney sung from her heart, where all about a man. Getting a man. Loving a man. Keeping a man. And if you think about when things started to change for Whitney, it started (at least publicly) when the world disagreed with the choice of her man: Bobby Brown. Like so many (Black) women, she had been cultivated to love, honor, and stick by her man. Good or bad. When the world said no, Whitney dug her heals in. When she dug her heals in, she also had to stop listening to others and even stop talking to people to buttress her choice of love. She would have to go it alone in order for her to stay true to her conviction. Everyone hated Bobby Brown for her. But she loved him. And it was that love, that righteousness about her choice, good or bad, right or wrong that she would defend and fight for-at all costs.

We all have fought for the things we thought we had to-be it a love or a point of view. Whitney is all of us. But I wonder. I wonder what would have happen if Whitney had known her worth separate from her relationship. I wonder if the message that had taken root in her heart was she is her own best thing, as Toni Morrison phrased, and no man, record deal, Grammy, or blockbuster movie makes you valuable.

I wonder if Whitney’s self-worth, her own internal relationship with herself distinct from people, places, and things, had been measured by peace and joy (instead of accolades, tours, and a man) would have changed the outcome of her life. I think it would have. I say that success is a dingy, dismal second to self-worth. When you don’t know who you are for you history, family, or friends can take root and masquerade as the truth. I wish to God that Whitney could have felt and understood, throughout her life, that her success wasn’t Bobby, money, not even Bobbi Kristina; my prayer for Whitney would have been that her self-worth, her experience of the intrinsic value she naturally brings to life, was her success.

I open my eyes. The movie theatre is empty. Just empty popcorn boxes crumpled on the floor and half empty cups of soda in the chairs cup-holders. My prayer and my Defy Impossible insight for you today is simple and I ask you to pour this on your girl children passionately: measure your success in terms of your experience of yourself. Your success isn’t what’s outside, it isn’t your accomplishments, and it is not a man. Or woman. I know for me, that I don’t want the kind of success that Whitney experienced. The price is too high. We lost Whitney long before yesterday at 3:55pm. We lost her when she felt like no one could hear her. She then did what we all do when survival kicks in: she stood by her choice alone. She was alone. She was lonely. And she felt like no one understood.

Dear Whitney, I am so sorry we didn’t hear you.

I am so sorry we joked and criticized.

I am so sorry we judged you. We did not, at a community level, we did not listen.

We judged you, which only made you not trust or hear us.

I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Forgive us for our arrogance.

Look in your own life and see whom you have judged. Clean it up. If you do, you have a shot at influencing them. I did this with my sister Nichole who was a heroine addict. I stopped judging her and was able to have influence in her life right before she died. Nichole knew she was loved and she had someone she could tell all her secrets too before she died because I spoke of her success as a mom and she knew she had worth. Whose life could you save? Whitney showed us how we did it wrong. How can you love somebody, free of judgment with an open heart, and do it right?

Whitney Houston Drug Abuse – Who’s To Blame? (Dr. Reef Karim on Fox 11 LA) – Dr. Reef Karim makes an appearance on Fox 11 Los Angeles and analyzes celebrity enabling in the wake of recent Whitney Houston prescription drug death. Connect with Dr. Reef and share your thoughts: Web: www.doctorreef.com Twitter twitter.com Facebook: facebook.com

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