Taye Diggs has long been recognized for his powerful performances on Broadway, in television series, and films. However, behind his success, Diggs has faced his own struggles with mental health, including dealing with anxiety and supporting his sister Christian through her diagnosis of schizophrenia. Today, he is using his platform to open up about mental health, break down stigmas, and encourage honest conversations, particularly in communities where access to care is limited.
What role did the arts play in your confidence growing up?
Growing up in Rochester, NY, I was an insecure kid—short, skinny, nerdy—but performing was my outlet. It was in the arts that I found confidence. I still remember how, after I went to Syracuse University to study musical theater, I was determined to make it in New York City. Within six months of moving there, I landed a Broadway role in Carousel.
But even with success, anxiety was always lurking. I didn’t even realize it was anxiety at the time—I just assumed everyone felt the same way. Over time, I developed my own coping mechanisms—like taking off my glasses on stage to blur out the audience. Sometimes I relied on alcohol to calm my nerves. Socially, I learned how to “perform” when I needed to excuse charisma and confidence—but then retreat afterward to recharge.
How did your sister’s diagnosis of schizophrenia impact your view of mental health?
Everything shifted when my sister Christian was diagnosed with schizophrenia. At the time, it was terrifying. I was building my career, and I’d often get these frantic calls saying she had disappeared for days. I felt guilty, like I wasn’t doing enough, but I supported her as best I could by providing the financial help, she needed to get the care she deserved. When she said, “If it weren’t for that, I don’t know what I would’ve done,” it made me feel a little better.
My family played a huge role in Christian’s journey—my mom and sister Shalom were always there for her, making sure she felt supported. But even with the diagnosis, the road wasn’t easy. It’s not as simple as just getting a diagnosis and moving on; it’s a continual learning process, and we’re still on that journey.
How did therapy become a part of your life and why was it important?
Therapy wasn’t something I was used to. I was raised in a Pentecostal Christian household where we believed prayer could fix everything. It wasn’t until my ex-wife, Idina Menzel, came into the picture that my perspective on therapy changed. She came from a family where therapy was just a normal part of life, and when we were struggling in our relationship, she said, “I’m not staying unless we go to therapy.” I laughed at first, but when I finally went, I realized how much I had been missing. It opened my eyes to a whole new way of looking at mental health.
Seeing Christian make progress in therapy also reinforced the importance of it. We all saw how much it helped her, and it made us realize we could benefit from it too. When someone you love is struggling, it forces you to reflect inward, too.
What is your message to those in rural areas where mental health support is limited?
The stigma surrounding mental health is still so strong, especially in rural areas where people have limited access to care. I remember growing up hearing things like, “That kid’s just a little touched,” and now we’re learning that these conditions have names. But just raising awareness isn’t enough for people who need actual support systems in place.
My family was there for Christian, and that was huge. Some people don’t have that support, and that’s why spreading awareness is so important. I want healthcare providers to meet people where they are, understand that therapy is a process, and recognize that finding the right fit takes time and patience. You have a doctor for your heart, your teeth, why wouldn’t you have one for your brain?
Through my advocacy, I hope to show people that mental health struggles don’t define a person’s future. Christian’s story isn’t a “happy ending”—because the journey doesn’t really end. But she’s doing really well, and that’s what matters. There is always light, even in the darkest tunnels.
Final Thoughts
Mental health is an ongoing journey, not just for those struggling but for everyone around them. Through my own experiences with anxiety, my sister’s schizophrenia, and the power of therapy, I’ve learned that it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to not have all the answers, and it’s okay to be vulnerable. We need to take care of our minds just as we do our bodies. My message is simple—mental health doesn’t have to define you. There is always hope, and there’s always a path forward, even if it’s not always a straight line.