Sinners shook me—and reminded me why I create.
- Amanda DeBraux

- Apr 24, 2025
- 3 min read
The night I saw Sinners in IMAX, I thought I was going for the visuals, the genre, the cast—okay, yes, also for Michael B. Jordan, because, let’s be real, who wouldn’t? IYKYK

But what I didn’t expect was how much the film would pull at my spirit. What I experienced wasn’t just entertainment; it was a deep emotional recall
It wasn't just a vampire story. It was a love story to the ancestors.
To the music.
To the memories.
To the stories we carry in our bones.
As a creative—and an actor—I know what it means to hold power. But sometimes I forget just how sacred storytelling is.
Sinners reminded me.
There were moments in the film that didn’t need words to be understood—the glances, the gestures, the stillness. You could feel the emotion in the way the characters moved, as if their bodies remembered something ancient and unspoken.
As I sat in that theater, I felt my own memories rise up. I thought about how often I turn to music—not just to prepare for a role or shake off pre-audition nerves—but to actually feel. I use music to remember those I’ve lost, to feel their love surround me, and to revisit the moments we shared.
Music, for me, is sacred. It holds my grief and my joy.
It soothes my anxiety.
It connects me to characters before I’ve even memorized a line.
It allows me to slip between worlds—into imagination, into memory, into the marrow of who I am as a woman and an artist.
Music has always been my bridge.
It carries the stories of those who came before me and helps me tell mine with more truth.
That’s what Sinners tapped into for me. That space where art meets soul. That place where stories are more than just entertainment—they’re healing. It reminded me that acting is a responsibility. We don’t just show up to “play pretend.” We show up to breathe life into human experiences, to echo the voices of the past, to pass on messages to the future. Storytelling is how we preserve our humanity.
Remember something:
We may not live forever. But our work can.Our words. Our art. Our love. Our impact. As an actor, that’s the real calling.
To tell stories that move people. To live loudly. To create without apology.
And still, even knowing that, doubt shows up. Doubt always does.
It whispers in moments of stillness. It questions whether your voice matters, whether your story is worth sharing. It urges you to shrink, to second-guess, to stall.
But here's the truth: you have to think bigger than what you feel. You have to be willing to move through that resistance and create anyway. Don’t let doubt fool you into stopping. Your dreams are real. Your gifts are needed. And you were never meant to dim your light just to fit in.
Here are two tools that help me reconnect to my purpose and push through those moments:
• My free Habit Breakthrough Practice—for when your patterns keep you stuck.
• The Mindful Artist Toolkit—a 72-page guide you can carry with you.It's like having a coach in your back pocket.
Sinners reminded me that our work doesn’t have to live forever for us to leave a legacy. What we create, what we share, what we speak into the world—it stays. It plants seeds in someone else's heart. And sometimes, that’s enough to change everything.
I want you to know:
Your story matters.
Your dreams matter.
Your voice matters.
Go Create.
Speak up.
Heal.
Act.
Think BIGGER than what you feel.
Don’t let doubt fool you into stopping.
And if you do see Sinners, message me. Tell me what it awakened in you.
Because I felt it. Deeply. And I think you might too.
Shine on, Amanda DeBraux




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