This LOVE Shit…. it Ain’t Easy.

This LOVE Shit….it ain’t easy.

Sex and the City lied to ME. Sarah Jessica Parker didn’t show me real love. She showed me what the White FairyTale Love of the 90’s was…and I bought that shit Hook Line and Sinker. All them damn Sandra Brown, Judith McNaught, Nora Roberts, Danielle Steele books did NOT prepare me for This LOVE Shit.

My momma didn’t warn me. Honestly, I don’t think I ever saw my mother IN Love. Not the kinda LOVE I’m talking about. I’m talking about the UGLY Love. The Hurting Love. The Can We JUST Make It Work type of Love. My momma didn’t tell me about that. I had absolutely no point of reference.

This LOVE Shit…..it Ain’t Easy.

The continuous effort that LOVE takes….the moments you realize you have to GENUINELY be honest about yourself with another person. You have to LOVE another person, even when you can’t believe they think you are worthy of their love. You ever doubted your partner, because they weren’t willing to give up on you. You ever thought, “Why the Fuck are they still here?!?!” I’m HORRIBLE, how could they possibly still love me?!?!? “

Real LOVE makes you admit to all the things you HATE about yourself. Those things you’ve hidden from the world because you are constantly judging yourself. This LOVE Shit makes you stop listening to your inner voice, and focus on something other than your flaws. And who the FUCK is ready to do that?!?!?!

This LOVE Shit….it Ain’t Easy.

Real LOVE is gonna make some relationships in your life change or disappear. Some people don’t like the real LOVE version of you. They liked you better when you were complaining that you couldn’t find it. Real LOVE will help you find out who is really down for you….the HARD WAY.

Cuz in those moments of fear/doubt/despair, when you call those friends you’ve always called when Shit gets Weird…some of them might tell you to give up. Some of them might tell you what they REALLY think about the Person You LOVE. Some of them friends don’t want you to stay in LOVE….cuz that means you don’t need them anymore.

#LifeLesson Make sure you have a REAL support system, that’s down for YOUR love. Not the version they believe in, or the version they’ve always seen for you. You need Friends that will make you FIGHT for your LOVE. You need friends that are almost as invested in your LOVE as you are. Some of these folks you thought would love you regardless of your situation…DON’T.

Cuz once you have found a REAL Love, you can feel the difference in those “friendships”. When the moment of crisis is over, and you are trying to go on with your LOVE, how do they treat you? How do they refer to your LOVE? Do they like to constantly remind of your partner’s mistakes? Do they always have a reason to dislike them? Them. Ain’t. Yo. Real. Friends.

Them friends that will tell you when YOU are tripping, that will make sure they hear BOTH sides of the story, and help you fix it. Those are the ones you need. The one’s that will come over to the crib to mediate conversations . . . the ones who will text/call/message your Partner if they think shit needs to get right . . . Them. Yo. Real. Friends.

This LOVE Shit….it Ain’t Easy.

You have to GET OVER yourself, for another person. You have to GIVE A FUCK about another person. Not just in passing, not just because…. One day you just decide/feel/accept that this person is the ONLY person who deserves to be loved with your FULL self. Your TRUE self, the self you see when you Daydream about living your Best Life. You have to tear down the Survival Walls you’ve built in order to function in this horrible world.

I’m talking about Life Partner kind of LOVE. Once Ya’ll have both decided, “Welp, I don’t want nobody else but you.” The understanding that you both want to move forward, navigating life TOGETHER. When you realize that LOVE isn’t- “Do You Boo Boo!” – but let’s have a logical discussion before major life decisions.

This LOVE Shit….it Ain’t Easy.

Being raised by a Strong Independent Single Black Mother, I wasn’t taught how to share myself with another person. I was taught to survive, and take care of myself. This LOVE shit requires you to THRIVE. You can’t be in REAL LOVE, in a true Partnership, and feel like you can barely make it. This LOVE shit don’t work like that. You gotta give a fuck about them, even when you hate them. You gotta always try to fix the problem. You can’t just say, FUCK YOU, and move on. You have to TRY. You have to be HUMBLE, and Vulnerable like ALL THE TIME.

You have to TRUST somebody, if y’all are in real LOVE. Even when your Every instinct is preparing you to defend yourself against any words/gestures/movements/actions you view as an attack. And EVERYTHING feels like an attack, or that your partner is disappointed in you because of something you did/said/thought/felt.

You gotta let go of all the plans you’ve formulated for yourself…and start creating plans for US. Being an active part of an US is CRAZY! Did you know, I’ve lived my whole life like the world revolves around me? That’s how I was raised!! Now you want me to like….not care about myself more than everyone else?!?!

This LOVE Shit . . . it Ain’t Easy

Why didn’t they tell us this? Maybe they told y’all about it. But didn’t NOBODY tell me how hard This LOVE Shit was. Creating a space where you and another person can feel safe….even when almost EVERY event/person/relationship/family member has made you both feel unsafe and violated and unLoved.

I’ve said all this….because I just didn’t know what LOVE really is. I wasn’t prepared for this thing to rule my world like it does. When This LOVE Shit isn’t working…my whole body is off. I don’t eat or sleep. I feel unsettled. I worry and fret… I spend hours trying to come up with solutions to whatever problems are going on. LOVE makes me have to put in work. Because even though This Love Shit is HARD…

It’s the Greatest Thing to EVER Happen to me.

I’m so #Grateful that LOVE found me. ^{{That Blog is coming too}}

I just needed to put this into words, for all my friends who’ve felt/said/thought the same thing. You are NOT Alone. This 2022 Type of LOVE ain’t easy…..but it’s Worth It. Keep Fighting for it. Don’t Give Up. You Deserve It. You are Worth It.

So is This LOVE Shit.

The Burden of: Being an Orphan

I’m sure this is going to be all over the place . . but meh. I never write anymore, so I’m going to try to get this out and be done with it. I also just wanna say, My Life Partner is/was/will always be the Greatest Choice I’ve ever made. Okay, now lets go.

Please note: I’m referring to BOTH sides of my family.

I’ve never liked my family. Even as a young child, I thought the adults were unnecessarily mean, and often times it felt like they didn’t really want me around. My cousins were bullies for the most part. Some of them let their friends and other family members make fun of me on a regular basis, some of them joined in sometimes. Around 12, I realized my maternal cousins were living a completely different childhood than me. They were having sleepovers, and birthday parties, and I wasn’t ever invited. When we would get together for major holidays, they would be referring to events I never knew existed.

When I met my Best Friend, I started taking her with me to family events. At least then, I would have someone to talk to. Because most conversations between my family and I consisted of them teasing me about my clothes, or my weight, or my hair, or the way I talked, or the music I listened to, or the fact that I lived in West Bloomfield. She was around so much one of my cousins fell in love with her . . . because she constantly acted as a buffer between me and them. As we got older, a FEW cousins made an effort to get to know the college educated version of me. I was declared fake, and thought I was white, and thought I was better than everyone else. When my mom got sick the 1st time. . . most of them were MIA. So I handled that pretty much alone, except for my friends and co-workers who were there for me. It was around that time, I decided to fall back. I stopped attending family gatherings, unless I was asked to by my mother.

The DAY after my mother died, I found out I had 2 cousins I didn’t know existed. The man I’d looked up to my entire life, purposefully hid children because their mother’s . . .offended him? Got pregnant at the end of a relationship? He died in my eyes that day, I was never able to look at him the same way again. All my life, I’d been dealing with the consequences of FEELING rejected by my family, and now I know that you are ACTIVIELY rejecting a child. Morally, I just couldn’t do it. Because I knew the consequences of those actions he’d taken. I knew how that felt, knew what it looked like. That anger and grief and everything else . . . I shared with my friends. Because I trusted them with my feelings. I never brought it up to anyone else, not even the cousin who was sitting next to me the day I found out. 3 years later, when he died, my ONLY thought was . . .Am I ever going to meet those other cousins?

My father didn’t call me when my mother died. I waited, and waited, and waited. But I also wasn’t surprised, because my Father isn’t the greatest. He never has been. Most of that is his fault, some of it is because he was raised by a horrible person. My Grandfather told me I was ugly almost every day I was around him. He called me fat, told me I was lazy and dumb. In front of people, he said these things to me and it was just . . . . okay. No one ever said, hey that’s not nice. I wasn’t around my father’s side of the family much, but those memories stuck.

My father was constantly trying to get me to lose weight when I went to visit him before I was 18. I had to walk 4 miles a day, in the Arizona Sun as part of his exercise plan for me. If I didn’t make that walk by 8am in the morning, I wasn’t allowed to leave my room for that day. Meals were portioned out by calorie, and I wasn’t allowed to eat anything other than what was set out for me. It felt so restrictive I stopped going to visit my father.

My entire adult life, I’ve tried to get my father to just . . be my Parent. At least my understanding of what a parent is supposed to be. Now that I am a mother, it’s doubly hard to understand how my father as treated me in my life. I look just like you. Everything you do and say to me, makes me feel like I’m not okay, I’m not good enough, I’m a disappointment to you. When I’ve ever said anything, it’s been ignored. I’ve seen the way my father treats my other siblings . . . it’s different, at least in adulthood. Their childhood with him was nothing like mine because he was there for theirs. So they feel a way . . . that I feel a way about how he treats me.

Maybe it is me. Maybe my expectations for people in general are too high. But it’s always seemed strange to me, that friends I’ve meet on the internet have done more for me than some of my family members. Strangers have made me feel welcome, made me feel important, made me feel heard, made me feel like I wasn’t’ crazy for wanting to just be accepted as myself.

September 24, 2021 changed my relationship with MOST people. I was in a car accident and no one gave a fuck. My friends were there. My Mom’s FRIENDS were there. My Facebook friends were there. I sent a mass text to my family, telling them what happened, and asking if anyone could come get me and my child from Ohio where the accident happened.

No. One. Responded.

Later I was told maybe it didn’t go through. I recently sent another mass text from that same text thread and there was again no response, so I thought okay . . that’s why they never acknowledged my text, this thread must not work. Then I got a response in the thread . . . oh. It did work. Ya’ll just . . . ignored my text then. Cool.

I’m done . . trying to be loved by Family. I’m done . . . caring more than people have ever cared about me. I’m building a Family with my Life Partner, and it’s gonna be one that is accepting, nonjudgmental, and Gentle. Helpful and nurturing. I will make sure my children never feel rejected because of how other people treat me or them. I’m not bringing that bullshit into their lives.

If you happen to find this on the internet, and you are related to me – I’m probably talking about you. This is the last time I use the phrase, “My Family” and refer to people biologically related to me. I don’t like ya’ll – AS PEOPLE. I don’t care that I’m related to you, If I don’t agree with the way you treat me, my child, or people in general I don’t have to be around you. Or be connected to you in anyway.

Shouts to My Tribe!

The Parnell’s, and Kelly’s and Brown’s and Cotton’s and Jenkin’s and Jones’ and Anderson’s and Robinson’s and more. The Tribe my Mother created for me. Her Friends, who have never left my side and were just always there my whole life. (Sometimes, it makes me think she didn’t really like her family either, cuz I call WAY more people Auntie than she had biological sisters.) My UD Alums, my Zeta Phi Beta Sigma Family, my Mercy Girls, my Arizona Friends, my #FGSSUM07, my FB Friends who have HELD ME DOWN. Who pick up calls in the middle of the night, who send you wine by the case when you are going through shit, who give you a year’s worth of clothes for your newborns, who send gift cards when they couldn’t send anything else, who hold you when you cry then laugh with you when you’re high.

Thank you for being there. Thank you for being my True Family. If it wasn’t for ya’ll, I wouldn’t be here.

And that’s the truth.

The Burden of Being a Daugther

This is a test. Can I still write a blog that actually makes sense .. . as opposed to a disjointed ranting of thoughts? I haven’t really written anything since my Mother died. So it totally makes sense that the blog I’m attempting to write is about her . . . kinda.

My Mother’s death changed my life. Not in the whole . . .everything is different and I am lost and broken sense (though all of that was there too). But in a way I never thought could be possible . . . it came with a sense of freedom I didnt’ know I needed.

Joyce had a plan for my life. I think she spent the entire time she was pregnant with me planning out my life. She knew what elementary schools, middle schools, and high schools she wanted me to attend. At seven, I told anyone who would listen my college choices {Spellman and Harvard} mostly because of the looks of awe on their faces. I couldn’t have told you one thing about those schools , except that they were good schools my mom wanted me to attend.

Joyce did not care whether or not her plan . . and my plan . . . were in agreeance. Because she had a PLAN. A Lot of who I am, got lost in that plan. Because free spirits don’t always get straight A’s. Socializing was always more important than grades for me. I don’t think Joyce ever expected me not to follow her plan, becuase she knew the outcome would be a life of financial and personal freedom.

But she didn’t tell me that. She never explained the motivations behind the plan, not until it was too late. Her plan was to make sure I never experienced any of the hardships she did. Joyce knew Education was the Key to that. Education and Access to White America. “Elite” White America to be exact. It really was a good plan, it just wasn’t for me.

Looking at Karma, I get it. I want so many things for her, and I want to guide {push} her down the right paths in life. Whenever I pictured having a daughter, she was just going to be a mini me. I never thought about my daughter’s father and his infleunce on her . .. because I’d never really seen that. An everyday Father, in the house all the time. My mom did everything on her own, for the most part, without much outside influence.

That is NOT Karma’s existence. Karma has mom and dad everyday. I had to throw out my “Plan” for Karma at like 6 months. My child is a THUG. She is not dainty, or soft. She is something I don’t understand. She’s 85% Dad and mybe 15% me. So I have to learn who she is.

We have to come up with her Life Plan together. I wish my mom had done that with me. Talked about the world and why we even needed to have a plan in the 1st place. I would have listened, I think. I would have understood WHY the straight A’s were important, cuz scholarships were gonna be needed to meet those goals in her Plan.

Back to that whole “Freedom” thing I was talking about.

After my Mother died, I no longer had to get approval for my choices. In theory, I never had to after I left her house. Even after I moved out, I was following Joyce’s plan. Working HARD to finding certain types of jobs, striving toward certain types of goals. Trying to stay on that path my mom laid out for me. I made choices I knew Joyce would approve of, because she had always been the voice in my head.

Making my own choices . . . has led me to the happiest time in my life. Trusting my own instincts, insteadof thinking, “What Would Joyce Think?” first. I’m living MY best life. Not Her’s.

Please Note: This realization has caused me great guilt and grief and shame at points in these last 2 years. Because my mom sacrificed her own happiness to raise me in a certain way. People talk about “Jewish Mom Guilt,” they should really be talking about “Black Mom Guilt.” That can put a hold on your life for your whole life, if you let it.

The Freedom comes in recognizing you are your own Person, not JUST [Enter your Mom’s name here]’s daughter. You are allowed to create a life completely separate of the one you were told you should live.

Live the Life that makes you Grateful for it. Live the Life that helps you deal with all your past hurts and traumas. Live the life others wish they could. Live whatever like YOU want. That’s how you can be Free.

Dear Beyonce . . . .

Thank you, for being the soundtrack of growing up.  I first paid attention to Beyonce when the remix to No, No, No came out.  Maybe junior year of high school? I didn’t care enough to know who was in the group, and I wasn’t buying no albums.  But I really liked that song.

Destiny’s Child

Enter the summer before College.  I spent most of my time with Nakkia, as we tagged along with folks.  We both worked at Pizza Hut, with a cool ass white boy boss, who mostly looked like Drew Carey.  He let us play our music, and the single for Bills, Bills, Bills came out.  I loved the song, and the video. The single also had song snippets.  And the 15 sec clip that was on repeat . . . Bug A Boo.

Any group that could have me feenin’ for snippets on random AOL Chat Rooms, I needed this album.

The Writing’s on the Wall

Fast forward to every Friday Night 1st semester of Freshman Year, this was the CD for the “Get Ready” dance party.  4 Girls, in one small ass room {who knows why my single dorm was the hang out spot}, dancing in the mirror getting ready for the BATU Party.  This was the soundtrack for my first drink, my first nasty dancing in a corner at a house party, the first times I tried to do my hair on my own.

I remember the conversation we all had when the Say My Name video came out . . . and we saw new noses and group members.  We were eagerly awaiting the explanation . . . and we ain’t eva really get one.  Didn’t really matter.  The album was Flames, and we couldn’t wait until the next one came out.

Survivor

The first song I ever sang in public (not at church) was Independent Woman, Part 1.  We had to harmonize the bridge,  and we KILLED it.  Not to mention, I somehow got the nickname Bug a Boo during my process. This album is the soundtrack of my 1st year as a Zeta.  The road trip to Blue & White in Columbus, the summer I worked in the bakery.  Aaliyah leaving Dangerously In Love on repeat in her dorm for at least 12 hours. Happy Face helped get me out of my 1st real bout of Depression.

Dangerously In Love

We all knew she was going solo, when we heard Dangerously In Love on Survivor.  Just like JT and Gone, we knew Beyonce was ready to branch out on her own.  This album is the soundtrack of my 1st car. . . . of the man who sold it to me, and my intro to [redacted]. This is car concerts singing Baby Boy, and driving down to Dayton to make sure I got to dance to songs from this album.  This album is #TOTGA and realizing I was in some serious like with #HIM.

Destiny Fulfilled

Their best album, in my humble opinion.  This album felt like, we grown now . . . let us be.  This album is the soundtrack of living on my own for the 1st time.  The mix CD’s I made for a childhood crush . . .  the ones he made for me as replies.  The background of the end of a significant friendship, and the rekindling of the most important one.  Every video was an entire MOOD, and we were all waiting for them to premiere on TRL.

 

B’Day

This album reminds me of a huge time of transition in my life, the time when “Flaws and All” was my guiding light.  If someone can accept her, they can accept me, right? But I wasn’t part of the BeyHive yet.  I was just liking music and buying albums.

 

I Am . . . . Sasha Fierce

This album is when I became a fan.  This is the soundtrack of MJ’s Detroit Year of Love.  This is the soundtrack of getting ready to go out every weekend.  Of attending every Greek event, and making new friends. Getting numbers for the 1st time in my life. The brief moment of self love that was shining through every where I went. This is also the soundtrack of my 1st teaching job, having fun in my classroom, making up dance routines with Nicole and Carmen, and still remembering them to th day.

 

4

Whew . . . . this album.  The second major heartbreak of my life.  This album is the pick myself up off the ground . . . then drag me right on back there.  The despair of losing everything . . . and the joy that came when I got it back. Every song on this album takes me to a specific place, time, emotion, person.  Baby I miss you . . . . Nigga you lost the best you will ever have . . .  Can we try everything all over . . . .

I remember when we were all excited to find out Blue was coming.  This is definitely when I became a card carrying member of the Hive.  This album was on repeat in my car.  This is my . . .  Beyonce done Grown Up, album.  She was singing about different shit.  I started to take notice.

Beyonce

I was in a hotel room when this album dropped.  [REDACTED] Someone bought this album for me, on iTunes, because it wasn’t on Spotify.  This album is the soundtrack of my going back to AZ. Of starting something new . . . and holding on to someone I should have let go.  The soundtrack of a specific relationship, of starting it and ending it.  Of living alone, and being happy in my space alone.  These videos take me to a specific feeling of awe, that Beyonce is constantly able to do something new.  Being in awe of her talent, her seeming perfection.

 

Lemonade

At this point, Beyonce had become a black cultural phenomenon.  We all gathered whenever something was happening. To comment, Stan, be in love with Beyonce the entity.  We had warning.  We knew it was coming, but we were unprepared.  We had just lost Prince, we were reeling from that . . . and along come Lemonade.  There was a collective sigh on Social Media as it started . . . I think i have 83 tweets for that day.

It was the Black Female experience in a way we never knew it needed to be told.  The raw emotion Lemonade evoked . . . seeing this person you’ve come to Idolize, be human.  Have flaws, have been hurt publicly.  IT was so beautiful to see the progression of that time in her life.  In a real way, without making everything look shiny and new.  And she had the NERVE to give us a remix with Dixie Chicks.  The only other soundtrack of my Freshman Year of College.  It was everything I didn’t know I needed.

Everything Is Love

This album . . . is the soundtrack of the summer my life changed.  This album is Malachi, and #ThatNigga, and #HE, and letting go of #HIM.  This soundtrack of driving around in downtown Detroit, and random events around the city.  Of looking for a job, then studying for my teacher certification.  This album feels like once the storm is over, and you just need to celebrate.  

Beyonce finally letting the rapper that lives inside free.  She bodied Jay on every verse.  We con’t care that he wrote them, she BODIED every beat.  I love vulgar Beyonce.  She don’t give a good hell about your feelings.  She is happy, in love, and a mother of 3.  You better get the fuck in where you fit in.

Homecoming

I mean . . . . . BeyChella was the blackest thing to happen ever.  In life of ever.  It took me back to college, and step shows.  Watching my friends introduce their kids to her, having my sandz send me pics of her son dancing when he thought no one was looking.  Watching people react to seeing it for the 1st time.

Before I Let Go . . . . The best, most blackest, most awesome thing ever.  The fact that we finally got the album of BeyChella, then she had to do one more Black Ass Thing! Take the best Hustle song, and add a bounce beat to the back of it.  We don’t deserve Beyonce. I’m just so grateful we have her.

All of Me . . .or the night I discovered H.E.R.

Spotify has truly changed my life.  Not just because it’s all music all the time, but because they have some CLUTCH playlists.  While living my best life, I happened to stumble across a playlist called Silk Sheets.

 

The rotation of songs changed every 3 weeks or so, but 2 weeks ago, there were like 3 songs by H.E.R. on it.  I got my LIFE. I was like who is this girl, who sings The Weeknd type songs . . .but better.  She was telling my life story, in all it’s glory. She knew all my secret longings for relationships.  Also, her music is an edible-influenced wonderland of sonic pleasure. {I mean, that’s what I’ve heard anyway . . . }

Sometimes I get fed up with all the games
Sometimes you all just act the same
Maybe I’m the one to blame
That’s just how the game goes

When you’re feeling alone
Everybody got somebody that they mess with on the low
Now I just want you to save me
I just want you to save me, Ohhhh

I’ve been trying to figure you which path to go down, relationship wise. It’s hard to flesh out which lane you wanna go down, when you can’t see what is at the end of the road. My need to control outcomes has turned into me not making any choices at all.  BUT THIS SONG THO!

This is a love song I wish I could sing to . . . HIM. We don’t use names, cuz we protect the guilty.  He’s kind of the greatest person I’ve ever met. He gets me.  Without having to say a word, or ask, or sometimes even call.  He’s just . . . there.  Always. Having my back, and keeping me safe, and making me feel like I matter.  I’m quite sure he would beat up a stranger if I asked him to, or even if he felt like they had done me wrong in some way. Sometimes, you the perfect person has been in front of your face the entire time . . . *le sigh*

 

The things that I would do to you with just a couple seconds
I would color every moment, make you feel like it’s forever

I’m comin’ over, so you can start undressin’
I’m givin’ you a chance to finally make a good impression
On me, yeah

Why she only made this song 1:39 leaves me flummoxed. Its the PERFECT Textual or in-person seduction song.  It’s also the song you send to the dude who has been talking Cash Shit about their sex game.  Like, I’m on my way over, it’s time to put all them words into action.

Because it’s clear I’m getting bigger
I know you visualize my figure
I was the one that made you look
At your old girl and reconsider

It’s mad intimate as well.  Because her comments in between, about her insecurities about her figure and weight, Real Shit.  It’s something I’ve struggled with since I was 27.  You can be attracted to me, but I also figure if you spend time looking at me nekkid, you will notice the changes.  So when I gain weight, I hope and pray that it’s not off-putting.  Cuz how you view me, matters.  I need you to love everything I see as a flaw, even when I don’t.

 

Yeah, I know you on the way, but now I want it I can’t take it
I’m merely tryna chill, but I’m impatient

Stay on my mind, Can’t sleep at night
And I ain’t get dressed for nothin’

I ain’t put on this dress for nothin’
I know you’re comin’

 

 

 

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Fall 2019 Playlist: Free Write

So I decided this summer, to create a playlist for the season.  Put some songs together that reminded me of specific people, places or things.  It all started at The Read Live in DC.  They were playing so MANY good songs before the show started, I had to find them and at them to my Spotify Rotation.

That Playlist is the perfect way for me to get all up IN my feelings, cuz this past summer was life changingly awesome and horrible, ALL AT THE SAME TIME.  It’s always good to repeat an excellent Idea, so I made a Fall 2019 one as well.  I present, some thoughts about life thanx to Spotify.

Issa Photoshoot

Aye, I’m CUTE.

I don’t know if you knew.  You should know . . . I’m getting cuter by the day.  Shouts to My Personal Trainer.  I’ve lost about 30 more pounds this summer . . . I’m wearing clothes I never thought I would.  I set goals that would have been outrageous 6 months ago, and now, completing them by the end of the year seems very possible.

Unfortunately, with the Glow Up comes the stragglers.  Folks that wouldn’t give me the time of day 50 or 100 pounds ago.  Now it’s, “Heeeeeeeeeey MJ, you are doing so good.  I’m proud of you. You should call me.”

Why? I’m the same MJ . . . just smaller. If you wasn’t tryna drink out the 2 Liter, you can’t get the 20oz, ya dig?!?!  Also, I can’t call you. . . . My Personal Trainer doesn’t allow me to train with other people 😉

Can’t Be Broken

So many times in the last year, I’ve felt like . . .It can’t get any worse.  Nothing else could come into my life what is harder to understand than this thing I’m trying to heal from right now.

Then . . . Here comes Harder.  Some kind of way, I keep fighting my way out.  I keep clawing my way out of the low places I’ve found myself in.  That’s the lesson – You can Always Get Out.

Even though it feels like there is no hope.  You will get out of it. I know it seems impossible.  I know the weight feels like it’s trying to break your chest ON PURPOSE.  But you getting out of it, will let you know just how Strong you are.

You Don’t Know

Jill Scott made this album before I grew up.  When it first came out, I wasn’t really feeling it.  I listened, then went back to the albums I already loved. The vibe of the album didn’t appeal to where I was in my life.

A year ago, I listened to it again, and realized why Jill Scott had changed in the last few year.  She grew the fuck up.  She realized the type of love she was looking for required Preparation . . . Sacrifice . . . . SelfLessNess. Things I’m STILL trying to learn about.

I can’t believe how hard it is to try to build a LIFE with someone. To have to get out of your own head . . .let go of your own shit . . . make them let go of theirs . . . and try not to fuck it up by assuming the worst about EVERYTHING.

It Ain’t Yours to Throw Away

Look, Nashville had some GOOD ass Music.

I’ve had some days y’all. I’ve had some days where it seemed like being around wasn’t helpful to anyone else.  One of those days, I put my phone on shuffle, and this song came on 1st.

What if you’re just a vessel,
And God gave you something special,

It ain’t yours to throw away
It ain’t yours to throw away

Every time you open up your mouth,
Diamonds come rolling out
It ain’t yours to throw away

How can you hear those words . . . and not feel like God was sending you a gentle reminder?  It ain’t over yet.  Its the life I gave you . . . so only I can take it from you.  Check on your Strong Friends.

Wonder

Being a teacher is HARD.  It’s not hard cuz you have to teach kids how to read.  It’s hard because you have to Heal Children, AND teach them how to read.  Every day, some child is looking at me, hoping I can help them with whatever ails them.

Then, we all have a moment.  A Silly Moment in Class. The 1st time one of my students had Pop Rocks . . . Extreme Wonder on his face.  The Wonder in small kids, learning new things.  Finally making sense of a word, or a math problem.  The Pride on their face.

That’s why I’m still a teacher.  Giving something like that to a child.  Being blessed enough to be able to do that.  When things get bad . . . I can always remember, that I can bring wonder into a child’s eye.

That Blessing . . . Is not Mine to Throw Away. 

The Love We Had Stays On My Mind

I’ve been trying to figure out how to write this blog. The 1st blog after I lost my WHOLE Heart. My whole world is different, because my Mother died.

I had a plan for this summer. It didn’t include this. I made the dopest playlist ever {See Below} . . and made my plans to travel all over. Then . . .

Stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer.

The foundation I’ve rested on . . . started to crumble. I reached out to my people . . . because we had decided we were going to just . . . Live the Best Summer Ever.

Together. Me and My Mommy.

• Life got in the way.
• Other peoples issues got in the way.
• 600ML of Fluid on her Lungs got in the way.

She started saying her goodbyes. She left messages for me with her friends. Directions on how to function without her.

She was tired.

I gave her permission . . .to stop fighting. To Stop being a Warrior for me. I told her everything. My plans, the back-up plans, and the people who were going to help me meet those goals.

Now She’s Gone.

• Moving on feels like the Worst Thing Ever.
• Being Happy feels like the Worst Thing Ever.
• Because she’s Gone . . . and That’s the Worst Thing Ever.

To My Brothers: Thank You. Thank you the calls, for coming, for sitting right next to me as I said Goodbye to My Mother. Thank you for the Hangouts conversations, the cards, the everything you’ve done.
To Stacey: I’m so Grateful for the way you Loved My Mother. Thank you for being ME, when I couldn’t be there. I’ll never be able to repay you for the last 2 years.
To Emmanuel: Thank you for picking me up off the ground. Thank you for helping me pick up the pieces. Thank you for being You.
To Kaitlyn, Raji, Diamond, Aaliyah, Chavi, Jo, Nisha, Dom, and Michelle: Thank you for being my Sister Circle. For answering every text and call . . .for letting me cry, and vent, and breathe . . .for the Spanish Inquisitions, Disney Adventures, and Gourmet Meals.
To The Cousins: Thank you for surrounding me with Love. Thank you for the arguments, and chicken wings, and bottles of liquor, and stop overs, and UFC Fight Nights. For loving my goofy ass dog, and checking on me daily. I promise to be around more, because If i don’t, Joyce will haunt me.

Thank you to anyone who sent a prayer, positive thought, text, message, smoke signal, edible, hug, emmisary on their behalf. I don’t have enough words to say it. So Just . . .

Thank You.

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RIP Nipsey

I can’t believe that Nipsey’s death is effecting me like this. I’m not a “fan.” I listened to Victory Lap maybe twice . . . while driving to Maryland.  Not my bag . . but I’d seen him and Lauren London on Instagram and Twitter.  And they looked HAPPY.  Not the bullshit Hollywood faux Happy.  But they loved every flaw and crevice of each other.  This makes no SENSE.  Just a life, wasted.  Somebody with such drive to empower his people, doing things everyday in the community he grew up in. A whole generation of children without his .  FOR WHAT?!?!?

This probably has more to do with some news I got earlier this week. I feel like a friend just died.  His light just went out.  His son will never have a relationship with him, at least not during the formative years. I just can’t believe he did this.  And I can’t talk to him and find out.  I’m just out here, wondering how the fuck he got here. Life is CRAZY right now.

I feel like Black Folks are just at war with ourselves at this point.  Has the burden finally become too much? Has we finally folded under the generation pressure? This Nipsey shit scared me.  In Front of His Daughter?!?! The Streets don’t have a code AT ALL no more?

This summer is going to be A LOT. For everyone.  I’mma stay prayed up.  Ya’ll should too.