Walk Away (Remember Me)

I never thought I’d be doing this,

This thing called casual sex but

Here I am

Doing it over, and over, and over again-with you.

Constantly wondering why the hell you were so special.

I swore I’d never do this, just fuck a guy with no relationship, no future but here I am

Fucking you over, and over and over.

Listening and watching you say how much you want a wife and

Apparently that’s not me.

Yet I’m still here,

Still stupidly hoping that you’ll pick me

That you’ll choose me

That maybe I’m not being stupid after all

Of course I know I’m being stupid

I look at myself every damn day and think about how stupid I am

For allowing you to be the first person that I do this with

The first guy that I had sex with and there was no relationship or commitment involved

I never wanted it to be like this

Never wanted to be sharing myself with some random guy

But see, you’re not just a random guy

You’re sweet and wonderful and God, any girl would kill to have a man like you

But I don’t think you know you or what the hell you want

I’d like to know, what do you want from me?

You say you want friendship but really

Is that really what you want?

Because nothing we’ve done is exactly friendly

It’s sinful to say the least

But it’s one damn good sin that’s for sure

I feel so stupid

That’s all I can keep saying

But when I’m with you, I don’t feel stupid

Just confused as hell

Because we both know what this is

Just kidding ourselves that it’s something more

Calling it friendship

When it’s a fuck-ship

A situationship

A ship that I wanna get the fuck off of but

I’m stuck like chuck and I really like to fuck-you.

I think it’s because you’re the first boy I really opened up to

The first boy I actually decided to give a chance

And my heart, my stupid foolish heart

Went and betrayed me and it fell for you

I fell for you

I know that me saying this will probably make you feel weird but I do

I really, really like you.

But you don’t like me, at least I don’t think you do.

You see, I said I wouldn’t come forward with my feelings because I didn’t wanna seem clingy

And I didn’t wanna frighten you like the last time we had this conversation

So I told myself this was cool, and it is, sometimes

But then nights come where I just wanna feel your arms around me and

Those creeping thoughts of my future come in and,

You’re there, you’re always there.

I told myself that the first time I drove to see you that I shouldn’t get attached

That I wouldn’t get attached

That I could totally handle this

And I thought could but I lied to myself because

I was in this, whatever the hell it was

And instead of admitting defeat

I sat and surrendered to the inevitable

The end which I knew was soon to come

One day, you’d bore of me

One day, you’d grow tired of me

One day, some other pretty girl with a ‘dope mind’ would come along and entice you

She’d charm you with her good looks, her wonderful personality

And I, I’d just be a passing thought

Because there’s no way in hell you can stay friends with the girl you constantly fucked.

I’d never admit it to you personally but,

When it finally ended, it hurt like fuck.

But you know what?

I thanked God!

I literally-in the midst of my crying-thanked God

And, I even prayed for you

Because I don’t wanna hate you

Because hating you will only stop me from finding the man God has for me.

Being bitter won’t stop anything but me pursuing my dreams

Being bitter won’t change what happened

That I acted stupidly, that I’d hoped that you would want something more

None of that will change the fact that this is over

It’s so, so over

Nope, not over like last time because God, that great guy, he gave me just what I needed

This time YOU ended things

You might not think you did but you totally did

And what a blessing it was when you ended it!

I thought this was going to be some long, drawn out thing but

You ended things with just a few simple words:

‘Let’s just be friends’

You have NO idea how FREEING that message was

I’ll admit, I cried a bit because it stung

Because you were the first one I’d allowed to cross the threshold

Of my bruised and damaged heart

You were the first one that I was like ‘fuck it’

And dived head first into…whatever the fuck this was.

Like I said I have ZERO regrets

I might have written a poem last time saying ‘fuck you’ but

I immediately took that shit back

Because I didn’t mean to say ‘fuck you’ but I was mad

And writing that poem was the best I had at the time

So this time, I won’t say fuck you

Instead, I’ll say thank you.

I tried walking away

But I came back because I said that I ‘didn’t wanna lose your friendship’

Because deep down I really do value that

I value you.

You see, you weren’t just some boy I liked

But you were a man with an amazing personality

A man who’s going places

A man that can change the world

And I liked that.

I was attracted to that.

You see, I saw parts of myself

Pieces of my own pain within you

I saw the darkness that lies there

Those deep thoughts you have when you’re by yourself

The struggles you’ve faced while chasing your dream

I’ve been there and I’ve done that

I saw that and that, that was what attracted me to you.

Not your game, not your looks but something deeper

I must admit when I first laid eyes on you

It was because you were cute

Now that I’m this so called ‘grown-woman’

I realize that I was attracted to the grown man in you

I liked the fact that I didn’t have to feel bad that I didn’t have it all together

Neither did you and it made me feel okay

You didn’t judge me

And when shared my deepest truth with you, you seemed to respect it

You seemed to respect me

Sometimes though, I wish I hadn’t been willing to fuck so easily but

The timing just felt right and I have no, absolutely no regrets about that

I just wish my heart hadn’t been so willing

I wish my heart had been a little bit smarter when it chose the first guy to break it

I wish it had been some fuck boy but

This heartbreak taught me a lesson

For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like

To feel wanted by a man

Not just because of my body

To be seen as more than just a pair of thighs, tits, and ass

Based on all that, I can’t call you a fuck boy

Because how can I be mad at the boy I let fuck?

Could I have been more cautious? Sure

But that’s what happens when you get sideswiped by love

I feel in love with the idea of you

I fell in love with the fact that you approached me first

I fell in love with the idea that you were honest

That you wanted to know me and fuck me

I just wish I knew which was more important.

You’ve said knowing me was more important but I’m not so sure

Still for me though,

I just wish that I knew which part I enjoyed more

Knowing you or fucking you

The latter is good but I wish that I got to know you more

Because at the least with the former I wouldn’t feel so insecure

I keep wondering what it is you saw in me

But I dare not ask

Because I’m not sure if I’d like the answer

Did I tell you that I was prewarned about you?

I was always scared of the boys who dressed like thugs

When I really should’ve been afraid of good looking men in suits

Still though, this situationship has taught me a lot of things

It’s taught me that it’s okay to fall in love with the wrong people

That sex is totally freeing, when it’s with the right person of course

That this love thing isn’t as bad as I thought

No, I wasn’t in love with you, at least I don’t think I was

I felt like if this had lasted any longer, I would’ve gotten there

And that was the scary part

To know that I could’ve fallen in love with you had this lasted any longer

Now though, the thought is terrifying

Because I wasn’t ready for love and neither are you

You might think you are but dude, you are so not ready

Because if you were, you’d have realized what you had in front of you and not fucked it up

This is a precautionary tale

To warn young girls of the dangers of love

You see, my guard wasn’t completely down when I met you

But it was down enough for visions of a life with you in it go get into my head

Ironically, I was scared of that, of wanting a future with you

I created a million reasons in my head why we wouldn’t work out

Isn’t it sad?

That in the end, I was right

I guess my discernment was blinded by my infatuation with you

I liked you so much that I was afraid of liking you too much

Because I knew that my heart would be broken

And it was

How the hell did we get here?

Can we just go back to almost four-and-a-half months ago when you first slid into my DMs?

If I could go back

I’d totally seek out your true intentions

Because I never figured out what you really wanted from me

Was I just a pretty face?

I mean, you did say that you’d been watching me for a while so…

But no, I won’t go back, won’t try and figure things out

It’s good to make a clean break

I know you said friends but

We both know that this is too damn awkward to remain friends, at least, for me it is

I’ve already deleted your texts

Pretty soon I’ll delete your number

I’m not sure if I’ll unfollow you on social media though

Maybe one day I will just ,not  right now

If you ever read this

Please don’t take this the wrong way

I’m not doing this to bash you

Or to hurt you

But this, this is for me

This is how I heal

How I vent

And as for my last one worded text well

I didn’t know what the hell to say

Your response was cut and dry so

I felt no need to say my piece

Because what the hell could I say?

That I was scared and didn’t know what the hell I was doing

I didn’t know what the hell we were doing

I told you the night before this ended that I didn’t do feelings

I wish you had listened instead of brushing it off and shaking your head

Telling me that I was being ‘extra’ as always

I wish you’d seen the writings on the wall

Because I left plenty of clues

Maybe you did see them and just decided to be like ‘fuck it’, ion know

Do you know how many guys I’ve turned down since we started this little, whatever it was?

I was loyal to you but, your heart and your feelings weren’t exactly loyal to me

And that kinda hurts

I feel like I got played…

But still

God is good

He will get me through this and you

I wish you no harm

I can only pray that you get your shit together

That next time, you don’t lead girls on

You may not think you did but

You lead me on

If you wanna fuck a girl

Just say so next time

Don’t try and butter her up with fancy words

At least, not the ones who’ve been hurt

Not the ones who are vulnerable

Not the ones who are ready to open their hearts to love

Because I was all of that

I was hurt, vulnerable and ready to open my heart up to love

And you used that

Took advantage of that

And I kinda hate you for that

But still

I’m glad my first heart break was you

Because at least love didn’t leave a bitter taste in my mouth

Well it did but, it’s like taking that nasty cherry flavored medicine

It only tastes bad for a second but then the water washes away the taste

You left a bitter taste but I’ve drank my water and it doesn’t taste so bad

Now it’s time for the healing to start…

 

 

Consistency Breeds Perfection

One of my favorite YouTuber’s is Shannon Boodram, aka Shan BOODY.  Last month, she uploaded a video called, My Career is NOT a Fairytale. When I watched this video (I’ve watched it at least 100 times already) there was this one line that stuck out to me,

“Never stop kicking the ball,”

I’ve always been a kid with a dream; I wanted to be famous. It sounds silly but, I’ve always wanted to be a superstar, though I’m ironically the most introverted person ever. My two career choices in terms of fame? A Musician (preferably a songwriter who sang occasionally), or just someone who got so famous that I ended up on Oprah, Lol. I had people I wanted to meet, fans I knew I had to inspire, but I never let myself be special, because I slowly realized…

I’m not that special, if that makes sense.

Hear me out; most famous people have that special something, that certain spark. They’re either really beautiful, they have these standout personalities, this incredible talent, or they just know somebody who knows somebody.

I don’t have any of that.

I mean, I’m cute, but it’s not this bam, in your face type beauty. I’m soft spoken, I’m really quiet, extremely introverted, I live in Mobile, Alabama, my parents aren’t super famous or super rich and I have no connections to anyone famous.

Still, that dream to be famous just wouldn’t let me go; it won’t let me go.

Of course, I’ve tried to be more practical, but life, or God rather, just won’t let me do that. So, I keep pushing at wherever it is life is leading me. Have you ever been at that point in your life where you KNOW you have a purpose, but you’re unsure as to how in the hell you’re supposed to get there or even what the hell that exact purpose is?

Yeah, that’s so me.

I live in this place where I float between uncertainty, self-revelation, and achievement. Once I reach that point of achievement, I plateau, and then I spiral downward and I’m forced to start the cycle all over again.

Do you know how annoying that is, to have a dream and then get SO close and then…you’re forced to start over again? It’s like, playing a game of monopoly and you’re always getting the ‘go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars’ card.

EVERY.SINGLE.FUCKING.TIME.

When life keeps kicking you in the teeth, it changes you and you lose bits and pieces of yourself. I used to have such high hopes in life and now, I’m a little bit tainted; happy people do not make me happy, optimism makes me sick and I do NOT think the world is a bright and shiny place. Still, I keep going, and I can’t stop kicking that stupid metaphorical ball.

When I was 18, I was so sure that my purpose in life was to become a social worker; it made sense to me. I loved kids, I loved being able to help other people; I had a job working with kids; it just made sense. Now at 26, I have no clue what the hell I’m doing, which is scary because again, I’m 26 and I’ll be graduating college in a few weeks. All I know is that I’m passionate about helping people, I really love to write, and I have a weird obsession with politics, namely social issues. That’s all I know and I have NO idea what to do with that. I’ve had several opportunities to move away from home and start a career in New York or LA, and a few years ago, I would’ve jumped at the opportunity.

Now, though, I look at my hometown and see so many possibilities. So many of my friends have the same vision or something along the same lines as me, in terms of wanting to see the city and our community be better. Frustratingly, I see all of my friends getting out there and doing something while I’m…stuck in the same spot, still kicking this stupid metaphorical ball and not seeing any kind of movement. It’s not that I haven’t had opportunities to do things, and it’s not like I don’t know people in high places, but again, I live in this sphere where whenever I make a move, I always get knocked down and I’m forced to start over again.

I’ve come to the realization that I will always be kicking the ball.

I don’t know why nor do I understand it but, there’s just something inside of me that won’t let me quit. Sure, I say that I’m going to quit all of the time but, whenever I reach my lowest point, somehow I manage to get up, gather my bearings and I go back and I keep kicking that damn metaphorical ball. Sometimes, it moves, but it’s not very far and that, that is frustrating as hell.

Slowly, I’m realizing that I am only marginally in control of my destiny, and I must trust in the higher power (God) and his plan for me. I must admit that I have been an idiot lately and I’ve been standing still because I’ve been hoping that this time, the ball will keep rolling. However, standing still won’t help me, so I have to keep moving. I have to believe that no matter what happens, there’s a purpose in my life and I must keep going. So here I am, patiently waiting, hoping that God has something up his sleeve because I know that I have a purpose, I just don’t know exactly what it is.

Because everytime, every single goddamn time I feel like I’ve got it, I find things shifting into a broader sphere, and I’m not sure where to go or what to do.

Take, for instance, my desire to help people. I was once so sure that my purpose was to specifically help children. Now, though, I want to help people of color, I want to help women, I want to help the LGBT community, I want to help inner cities and be involved in education. I also still also want to write, but I don’t just want to write books, I want to blog and possibly create my own screenplays and maybe get involved with music.

Do you see how annoying this is?

I know that my purpose is to inspire people but each time I find this space where I feel like I fit, I lose it and I’m sent back to square one. I used to think that I had to accomplish these goals on based on a certain time scale, which freaked me out. However, now that I’m 26 and it still hasn’t happened, I’m coming to realize that my purpose will happen when it’s time. It’s sooo annoying but, I learn to trust in that, every day. It’s still frustrating as all get out that this dream, this passion that’s stirring inside of me still hasn’t come to fruition yet but, I KNOW it’s there and I know it’s going to happen.

Which brings me back to the video that I mentioned.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, or rather I’m still learning, is that nothing can get done if I just keep sitting still. I’m starting to learn that I may not change the world on a grand scale, but I know that I’m supposed to change it in some way.  Maybe I’m not a huge Tsunami, maybe I’m just a small wave with an occasional huge wave every now and then. Maybe I’m not even a wave at all; maybe I’m just part of the tide that rolls in and out. Maybe I’m not even a part of the ocean, maybe I’m a river or a stream or hell, maybe I’m even a damn puddle. The point of those analogies is that no matter how I do it, whether it be large scale or small scale, I know that there’s someone somewhere out there in the world who needs to hear my voice, who needs to see my talent.

It sucks but, I’ve just gotta keep at this shit until I figure it out…

I mean, Rome wasn’t built in a day, Barack Obama didn’t become president over night, The Civil Rights Movement didn’t happen in one try and the underground railroad wasn’t smooth sailing.

Things will happen, exactly when they’re supposed to; I just have to be patient and keep kicking the stupid metaphorical ball.

Xx

 

A Precautionary Tale (Poem)

I’ve never been that girl who gets a guy’s attention.

I’m cute but, not cute enough; big ass, thick thighs, great boobs small waist but…not enough.

Smart, outgoing, ambitious but, still a little too rough.

Too bold is what they told me

Too much mouth so it made me cold.

So I resigned myself to the fact that I’d never get a man.

And I was okay with that cause niggas ain’t shit anyways.

Even thought of dating a White dude but nope, he just HAD to be Black

Because there’s something about that Black love that just…

So while I knew that I was pretty I’d understood that I’d never quite be enough.

Sure, enough to holla at but to wife up? Not so much.

It didn’t bother me though because I played niggas too

Gave em fake numbers, kicked em to the curb if I got bored, never thinking of the consequences.

I could always spot bullshit, fuckery, and a nigga who wanted to get into my panties from a mile away and then…

I.met.him.

He was the epitome of what I wanted in a man but, I never thought anything would happen between us

So I kept my distance, wrote this one little poem back in high school, kept my infatuation and fascination to myself…

And then one day, he did notice me.

But it was too good to be true, right? Because girls like me, we NEVER, EVER get the guy we want

But then I did, or so I thought.

I went into it thinkin ‘nah, this can’t be real’

But then it was…until it wasn’t anymore.

You see, I had always been a good girl, was prided on how smart I was, on how I’d never ended up like all the other girls.

When in reality, I wanted to be those girls

Cause those girls got the guys, the cute babies, the life I thought that I should be living because hey

I didn’t smoke, I didn’t drink, I wasn’t having premarital sex (yet)

I was more than just good looks so why couldn’t I get a man?

Oh, right cause I was fat, didn’t go out much, and kept to myself.

Okay cool.

But then this one guy, this really great guy comes along and…

He chooses me, wants to talk to me, wants to get to know me.

Well shit.

At first like I said I didn’t believe it because I wasn’t his type.

So why the fuck was he tryna holla at me?

Could it be that he…really did like me too?

I let myself fall into the trap, fell into the guise of the well-tailored suits and intellectual words

I fell for his love of Jesus, his respect for the community and me well…

He wasn’t feeling me but still, he chose me so that had to count for something, right?

Looking back I knew this would end badly because I was (and still am) convinced that NO ONE will ever want me, not enough to wife me up so I let him in.

Gave him pieces of myself I can never get back and while I don’t regret that I do regret him.

He told me sweet empty nothings, called me cute names and I, so wrapped up in the idea of him, let him.

Everything I did I did willingly and I admit that but, I still ended up cuting him way too much slack

Now he really is a great guy don’t get me wrong but, he just doesn’t know what the fuck he wants…

Except that he wanted to fuck me.

And I let him because this was the guy, the one who matched everything on my stupid little list (but did he?)

Good looking…check

Loves Jesus…check

Funny…check

Honest…eh, maybe?

Ambitious, most definitely

Can wear the hell out of a suit, yes lawd!

And that all looks good on paper right but,

Did he want me?

Did he really, truly want me?

We played this game for weeks, us going back and forth, doing all kinds of inappropriate things and

When I laid down with him I knew; this was different.

He didn’t pressure me, didn’t disrespect me but if all that I said was true then why did I give myself ‘the talk’

‘Dee, if he doesn’t call you back, don’t get mad’

‘If this doesn’t go anywhere, don’t get mad’

‘No matter the outcome, this is all your fault because you led him on’

But did I really?

I mean yeah I did but, he knew, oh buddy did he know

He knew how the fuck I felt and what the fuck I wanted

But still, he chose me so that must mean something right?

No, that didn’t mean shit

Because even though he chose me, he still used me

He was a willing participant and so was I

But you wanna know what wasn’t?

My heart

My fucking feelings

And it’s not like he didn’t know

Because oh boy DID he know

So why did he choose me?

That’s the question I’m left grappling with

As I sit here and type this

My feelings gutted

Everything I didn’t wanna feel I do

You ain’t shit

You’re not that special

I don’t wish you well

In fact fuck you

Why?

Why did you come after me?

If all you wanted was some pussy, I’m sure there was some girl who’d be willing to give it to you with no emotional attachment involved.

But no, I was the girl you used under the false pretense of

“Let’s just be friends”

Knowing good and goddamn well that wasn’t the case

Cause all we did was fuck, that’s it

But we kept saying ‘friends’ because we

Or rather I

Was blinded by the d

I thought I was smarter

Thought I would be better

But no

I’m not any of those things

What I am is stupid as fuck

I should’ve cut you off a long time ago

Should’ve chopped my feelings off at the knees

Because now my heart and feelings are gutted like a fish and you

You get to walk away scot free

Lucky son of a bitch

I should say your name but I won’t

Because you’re not good enough for me to utter your name

Yes I’m writing this and even though I should totally put you on blast

Warn every girl of how nice you are and how they’ll instantly fall for you

While you fuck them and string them along, claiming to want friendship despite what happens but

I still care about you

It’s stupid but I do

Because I let myself think you’d be different

Nah dawg, you just another nigga, just better dressed with a lil more finesse than most

So to the girl you date, he’s a really great guy, you’ll love the hell out of him, I know I almost did

But to you, my only piece of advice: be careful with the next girl’s heart

If you don’t want her don’t fuck her

Because the next girl might not be as kind as me and write a poem about you

The next girl might really try and fuck you up

Can we be friends?

Right now, hell fuck no

My wounds are too fresh

So right now fuck you

No, straight up, FUCK YOU

Nah, I don’t wish you well

Not in this moment but I will one day

And even as I write this I blame myself

I let my guard down and I’ve NEVER been a girl who takes a chance on love

No, what we had wasn’t love, don’t panic bitch

But I did like you

I liked you enough to fuck you three times

I liked you enough to annoy the hell out of my friends to talk about you and yet

Did your friends know about me?

I wonder, but I doubt it

I was special enough to fuck

But not special enough to hang out in public with

You’re a busy man, yeah I know

But I would’ve appreciated those 20 minutes we fucked if they were spent chilling

You claim I have a dope mind but right now I feel dumb

Because why the fuck would you even come after me when you knew how I felt and you knew what I wanted

I feel so dumb

Because even sitting here typing up this poem I find excuses for you

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything’

‘Maybe I shouldn’t have told people we were talking’

‘Maybe I should text you again’

‘You didn’t mean what you said’

‘I just pissed you off’

But dammit, what about me?

You can’t say let’s be cool after you’ve fucked over my feelings

No fuck that and fuck you

I can’t be mad at you, I shouldn’t be but I am

I thought you’d be different

And you are

You’re just a special kinda different

A really great dude

And I really do wish you well

You just aint shit to me right now

Maybe one day I’ll be able to support you to be your friend…

Nah we can’t do that friend shit because we fucked and my feelings are involved

And truth be told they probably always will be

There’s only one other dude who got this close to my heart

So consider yourself lucky

But the damage you’ve done is really gonna set me back

Because like I said, I was never ‘that girl’

And now I know I never will be

I was so afraid to give you a chance

So scared to lose you

Because I know dudes aren’t checking for me

So I settled for you but

You didn’t wanna settle for me

Because you can do so much better

And I’m sure you will

So go ahead and do what guys do best

Walk away squeaky clean

While I’m left here cleaning up your shit

Because you’ll just do the same thing again

And my feelings?

Well, they’ll be blamed on me

In fact, I’m quite sure that at this point I’m nothing more than a passing thought to you

And I’m cool with that

But I send a fair warning to the next girl he messes with

Do not be persuaded by the good looks, the bomb suits, the kind words, and the dope ass sex

Cause underneath it all is a boy who doesn’t know what he wants

A guy who’s willing to fuck over other people’s feelings in the process

And me well, I’ll do what I do best

Move the hell on

I honestly have no regrets

Still a big fuck you but at the same time

Thank you

You taught me a lot of things

To never settle

That I am the SHIT and you were LUCKY AS FUCK to have me

That I’m a good woman

That I have a right to want things

That no, what I wanted wasn’t too much

That falling off the precipice of love is okay

I thought the fall would be harder but

I landed on my feet surprisingly

So thanks for that lesson

You’ll always hold a special place in my heart

Even if you ain’t shit

I loved you, or at least a version of you

The one I was blinded by

I loved you yes, but I loved the idea of you more

Of who you were

Of you who could be

You gave me a great gift by moving on

Now I can get ready for the real man to come along

One who will love me

And cherish me

Who’s gonna appreciate the shit outta me

Because I am awesome

And strong

And amazing

And a whole bunch more shit you’ll never get to discover

You had your chance now you blew it

So big ups to you!

You just did my future husband a favor.

Later.

Charity Begins at Home

Charity Begins at Home

I’ve always wanted to be that person who went out and changed the world, and I thought that in order to do that, I had to leave my city. I used to think being a big name meant that you had to come from an equally big place. For years I had my sights set on moving to New York, Atlanta, or California. Now though, I’m okay with remaining in my hometown; in fact, it’s pretty great. Mobile, Alabama is an…interesting place to live. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that there are many interesting gems about living in Mobile that I now appreciate.
Mobile is chalked full of history, really cool places to enjoy, great schools, and a lovely since of community and stability. Interesting fact: there are TONS of famous people from Mobile who have become famous; though most don’t really recognize their hometown. Just to name a few famous folks from Mobile: The guy who wrote Forest Gump, Laverne Cox, DeMarcus Cousins of the Sacramento Kings, Hank Aaron, Satchel Page, the wife of former Attorney General Eric Holder, the late wife of Gospel sensation Marvin Sapp, former Secretary of Labor Alexis Herman, just to name a few. Honestly, Mobile is the place you could either raise kids or retire to.
Sadly, I see so many young Mobilians talk trash about how bad it is to live here. Most relocate and never look back. I have to be honest and say that I too used to down talk my city, but then I went through a few things and had to return to the very city I wished so desperately to run away from. In fact, I’m still stuck here, though it’s not necessarily by choice. At this point in my life, I have zero problems living and remaining here. Why is the question that most people would ask; for me the answer is simple: because I see potential. Mobile is a thriving and growing city with a rich history…but it’s also problematic in its systemic racism and discrimination, as well as the deeply rooted covert prejudice and classism. These things can be changed, but it cannot change if everyone who wishes to see change happen, leaves.
I have had TONS of opportunities to leave and make a difference in the world, but recently I’ve come to the conclusion that there are MILLIONS of change seekers and innovators in New York, Atlanta, and California. But who’s fighting for change here in Mobile? How many young people know who sits on the city council? How many young people have who have knowledge of how our city works? How many young people are actively starting businesses, working alongside the Mayor’s office and with the state to see Mobile and Alabama in general be better?
From what I’ve seen, not many; instead we’d rather sit and complain about how bad of a place Mobile is or run away to some new city that’s already established and become just another a face in the crowd. I understand leaving Mobile because there are no jobs in your field; I understand leaving because you cannot afford the cost of living, or because the cost of living is too low. I get that, and I can respect it. In fact, I’ve considered leaving for some of those same exact reasons. However, I’ve learned that no matter where I go every city has these same problems. It’s not just Mobile, it’s because the economy right now is shitty, and we have a congress and now unfortunately a president who would rather people struggle to live on a minimum wage of $7.25 than to raise it to something more affordable.
If the Presidential Election has taught me anything, it’s that I cannot depend on the government to make this country a wonderful place to live; it’s up to me. If I want change, I have to be willing to advocate for it.
So I challenge my fellow young Mobilians to stop getting on Facebook and social media and whining about how much Mobile sucks. How about YOU try and work to make your city better.

Charity starts at home…ijs.

Be the change you wish to see in the world,
Xx

Can You Be A Christian and Struggle With Depression?

Odyssey Photo I haven’t posted much on my blog, because well, real life has gotten in the way. But this week, I need to vent out my pain. As a writer, I must first be truthful to myself. This week, I am in one of the lowest places in my life, and I don’t know what to do about it.

This week, depression and anxiety are really kicking my ass. This week I’m struggling with how to deal with these feelings from a Christian perspective.

What do you do when your faith has grown so small that you can’t see your way out of the situation you’re in? What do you do when you’re a Christian, but you struggle with depression and anxiety?

That’s where I am this week, this week, I am struggling, trying to find my way through this maze of emotions I deal with on an everyday basis. Depression and anxiety aren’t something that get talked about much at church. In fact, it’s almost taboo to address issues of mental health. We tend to put a scripture on it or we tell people to ‘bind it up in Jesus name’ and to, ‘speak to your situation’. But what happens when you do that, and you continue to do that but it doesn’t seem to get better? What do you do if you’re going to church and serving and praying and reading your bible daily, and paying your tithes but you’re still stuck in the same situation? Why do people tell  you to ‘keep praying’ or ‘just believe harder’?

If you’re like me and grew up in a Black Baptist Church, depression wasn’t a part of the weekly sermon. In fact, it wasn’t talked about much at all. If I can be even more honest, Black families don’t talk about mental health, period. You learn to suck it up and keep it moving. You don’t have time to cry if you’re Black, you don’t have time to lose your mind because there’s someone out there depending on you. Oh, and don’t be a young person and say ‘I’m struggling’; the first thing an older person will say to you is ‘what are you struggling with?’, ‘You don’t have kids, you don’t have any bills’. But yes older people, we struggle too, believe it or not, a struggle is not just associated with having kids and having to pay bills.

Sometimes I find myself asking, ‘Who can I talk to?’ sure people will say ‘you can talk to me’, But can I really? Can I really pour out what’s in my heart with no judgment, without you trying to heap your problems onto me? Can I come to you in confidence without fear of it getting out or without you wanting something in return? In most cases, the answer is no, especially if you’re that person that everyone looks to for advice. But you should be able to go to your pastor/priest, right? Nope, sometimes even they can’t help. Sometimes, it’s impossible to talk to your pastor because he or she is too busy or you’re constantly hit with ‘You just need to keep praying about it’ Even worse they’ll ask ‘are you paying your tithes?’ or something stupid like that. Because sure, not paying tithes is really the cause of my depression. *side eye*

What do you do when the people you look to for spiritual guidance are nowhere to be found?

Do you keep trying, do you keep praying? The Christian answer is yes because God will see you through it. But how are you supposed to keep going when the waves of depression and fear are like a raging storm, and no matter how much you call Jesus, you can’t seem to see your way out of it? In fact, is there something wrong with you if you’re a Christian and you have anxiety or deal with depression? Where does it come from? Surely as a Christian if you’re doing everything you’re supposed to do, you have no reason to be sad, lonely, or depressed, right? I mean, you serve a great and mighty God who made the heaven and the earth, you wake up every morning with new grace and mercy, Jesus died on the cross for your sins so, why are you sad again? Shouldn’t you just be ‘happy with Jesus alone’? Sure, the idea of just needing Jesus and nothing and no one else is comforting, but real life doesn’t work like that.

You cannot get through life without having someone to lean on, someone to confide in. Unfortunately, in religious communities, you are forced to carry your pain in secret. You must put on your mask of happiness when you walk into the house of worship, and you leave just the same. Sure, healing and deliverance can take place in the church; I don’t deny that one bit. However, the church has become so commercial in its pick up lines for why you should join and the even bigger commercialism that’s being put on tithing and giving an offering. As much as I love Jesus, some days, I can see why people are atheists or agnostic. The concept of a God who judges you to eternal damnation if you don’t abide by a book of rules that are badly misinterpreted by human beings to fit their own personal agenda can be a bit disheartening.

Sometimes, when you’re in a low place, you just wanna stand in the middle of the room and scream out ‘can anybody see me?’ ‘Does anybody see that I’m hurting?’ Sometimes, you just want to see if people really care as much as they say they do.

Depression and Anxiety are like rain clouds; it doesn’t come every day, but you know that rain is always somewhere around the corner. Sometimes, the rain can be a drizzle and then it’s back to sunshiny skies. Other days, the clouds loom for a while, taking away the sunshine and then things are back to normal. The worst days are the days where the rain comes and it brings with it darkness and thunder and lightning and floods.

The days where the rain can’t seem to end and you’re stuck with this stifling feelins are the worst. However, while you may feel like you’re going to be in your storm forever, the rain eventually ceases; the clouds go away. The sun comes back out to shine again and sometimes it will stay for a while. You cherish those days of sunshine and cloudless skies, but you also learn to be more prepared for the rain. But sometimes, though, the rain can hit you unexpectedly, and you’re stuck in the middle of a torrential downpour with no rain gear.

That’s how depression and anxiety work, it’s a constant process of ups and downs, highs and lows, peaks and valleys. This week is my week of low, right now, looking at things in the natural sense, I want to give up and quit. Sure, in the back of my mind I know that things are gonna work out because they always do. However, right now, in this moment, I don’t see it. Sure my parents have been a wonderful support system, pushing me, encouraging me to keep fighting and I will, but it’s just hard today.

The irony in this situation is that despite all of the bullshit I’m facing, I have hope. Isn’t that funny? On most days, I dare not hope or dream for better, because I’ve grown so used to life kicking me in the teeth, but yet I still hope. I often times call myself faithless or seriously lacking in faith, but just sitting here writing this blog I’ve learned, maybe my faith isn’t as small as I think it is…

Welcome (Spoken Word Piece)

Writing is a form of catharsis; it is a form of healing and expression. Writing  is my happy place. On paper, I can say everything that I can’t express verbally. Through my hands on the keyboard, I am able to bring my thoughts, my feelings, my expressions to life. Through my words I am somewhat allowed to play God. I determine the laughs, the tears, the anger, the sadness; each word that I type invokes an emotion that I provide. Through these words I allow the light that is within me to shine, to heal others.  My words are a truth serum, sprinkling you with a bit of wokeness that cannot be found in any other place. It is through this sacred space that I tell my truths; my truths are often times ugly, painful and hard to swallow. My truths allow room for the real me, and the real me is a flawed, messed up human being. She is not poised or elegant or often times articulate. The person behind the words is a woman who has been hurt, who has seen more than her fair share of pain. I am a cynic, I do not believe that the world is a bright and shiny place; I have little hope in humanity. My words sting with a crassness and a bluntness that is unashamed and unapologetic. I am the glass half empty, I am the unhopeful optimist. My words are painted with an unexplained intelligence and shards of pessimism. Basically, if you’re looking for a blog about lots of happy things, this isn’t the blog for you. Yes, I do write things about hope, but more often than not, I write about things that don’t necessarily have a happily ever after type ending. I write about harsh truths spoken from a place deep within, a place that resonates with cries and pains that only a woman who has walked the same path from darkness to light as I have. In the midst of the raincloud of words that I speak, lay a silver lining of faith and hope that I had to learn  the hard way. In these beautiful and bitter words I type, lies the antidote of how to bounce back after you’ve been to hell and back. I must forward you, I curse in my writings, I say unpopular things; I am the epitome of an angry Black Woman. My words are like poison, they spew out like venom at oppression, stupidity and ignorance and downright bullshit. I am not a lady; I have never professed to be one. I am the woman with the issue of blood, searching for answers, for an absolute truth. I am the other Mary, the one with the tainted reputation, who searches for Christ’s redemptive and unfailing love. I am everything people wish that I wasn’t, but what is inside me cannot lay untold.

So with this well-informed introduction, I say…

Welcome.