Posted in Relationships

Mom…You Can Bother Me If You Want To

Mom I hate when you ask me to do stuff for you.

It’s always at the worst possible moment, when I’d rather be doing something else.

And it’s usually never an easy fix. It’s usually something that requires more thought and energy than I’d like to give in the moment.

When I show my displeasure at being asked yet again to do something, you stiffen, and immediately shift into martyr mode.

You don’t even have to look me in the eye.

You don’t even have to say a word.

I already know.

You’ve sacrificed so much for me in life. Surely I can spend some of my precious time to help you in your endeavors.

And the truth is that one day, you won’t have the luxury of bothering me. You won’t have the opportunity to annoy me.

One day you’ll be dead.

And in the days following…. I will wish with all that I am that I had one more moment with you. Even if it was for you to bother me. I will regret all the seconds, minutes and hours I spent being annoyed with you for pestering me.

I will regret everything.

So with that in mind, mom, I’ll gladly do what you’ve asked me to do.

I love you after all, and what you’ve asked me to do certainly isn’t rocket science.

I’m sorry I’m such a bitch sometimes mom. I really do love you. I just struggle with showing it sometimes. I’m trying to get better.

Please forgive me.

Posted in Emotions, Relationships

Vent Sesh: Roomies Vo.1

I promised I would keep it real, even if being real means I’m petty.

When it was just me and one other roomie, everything was groovy. Sure she was annoying and drained me of energy but we were still cool though!!!!!

When I got more roomies, shit happened…. cliques were formed and I found myself on the outside looking in.

This rejection took root in my heart soon after we signed the lease and it’s still there today

And because of the pain in my heart, every action my roommates take is seen through a lens of suspicion, pain and mistrust…

I don’t trust them. I expect the worst of them.

Something as silly as Instagram likes or lack thereof can set me off. Prime example:

One of my roommates (we’ll call her Artemis), the one I lived with first, has started liking all of the other pics of the other roommate (Gift)…. while she barely likes any of my own pictures…. no idea why…..

Mind you, Gift doesn’t have the history that Artemis and I have. So why is Artemis being so “joe” as they say in the city I live in? Why is she being so extra? Why is she making it a point to like all of Gift’s IG pics while ignoring my own? I’ll also state that Gift does the exact same thing. She’ll like all of Artemis’ pics and studiously ignore my own. So how did this strange dynamic start?

Let me break it down. It starts kinda like this….

Artemis and I did TFA together and have lived together for 3 years. I’ve been with Artemis through some serious shit, and she’s been there for me.

Gift and I were friends before she and Artemis were friends.

But then we all decided to move together with a 4th roommate called Asparagus. Asparagus and I met before Artemis and I met and before Gift and I met. Asparagus and I developed our friendship concurrently with my relationship with Artemis…

I stopped trusting Asparagus, however, after she started actively pursuing a young man that she knew I liked (I pretty much told her I liked him… I say pretty much because I was talking to Artemis and Asparagus listened intently to the conversation even though she wasn’t invited to participate). So I stopped trusting her… and yet she became 4th roommate, because we were desperate.

It was then when we all moved together that hella cliques were formed. Asparagus, Artemis and Gift started doing stuff without me, and it made me really, really angry, given I already have emotional crap that I’m trying to work on (insecurities and nonsense like that). A lot more shit went down but I’m already tired of recapping. It’s been a shitty year living with these ladies… sorry to say. They’re not evil. They have good hearts. They’re kind and sweet. They’ve just done stupid things… out of jealousy…and other human emotions.

In any case. But Asparagus moved back to Idaho earlier in the year. Praise the Lord.

But Artemis and Gift remained… and I was forced to deal with that dynamic. It’s like I wasn’t the common thread anymore, and I found myself constantly edged out and constantly excluded.

That’s part of the reason why I’m moving out… not a major reason but definitely part of it. I don’t want to be somewhere I don’t feel comfortable, celebrated and wanted. I don’t like dealing with petty shit, namely jealousy, catty emotions and other foolish things.

I’m just tired of dealing with cattiness. This is why I don’t do friendships for real. This is why I can’t do #squads… this is why I hate #cliques… this is why I only deal with friends one person at a time…

Can’t wait to get out of here. I really should unfollow and unfriend all of them… Or maybe I can find a way to hide them from my feed? Idk. I just want to put all of this behind me.


Posted in Emotions, Relationships

I’m Still Angry At You

I thought I had vented out all my rage concerning you and hatred of myself for all the shit I did in pursuit of you, but I still have some venom left.

I absolutely hate that I even factored you into any of my life plans, considerations and future goals and dreams. I AM DISGUSTED. You are nowhere to be found, we will never be together (PRAISE THE LORD) and I am so angry that I wasted SO MUCH TIME AND ENERGY THINKING OF YOU.

I want to slap myself……

I need to forgive myself, for the time I wasted on you. The emotions, the energy.

I need to forgive you. Because to hate you would waste EVEN MORE TIME, EVEN MORE ENERGY.

I just want you to be irrelevant to my past, present and future.

I want every memory and thought of you to be erased from my heart and mind.

AND I WILL SEE TO IT that you take up no more residence in my thoughts.

I will literally end your existence in my life, since I can’t kill you and I wouldn’t want to.

But just know this, you are dead to me.

Whatever we had and did not have will be erased and wiped out like the hard drive of a computer.

I let go of you and all that was beautiful, all that was ugly, to make space for the greater.

Because I deserve greater than you. I deserve better than you. I deserve to be treated well, with care, with intention, with respect.

So this is a final goodbye. Really hoping I never see you again. Really hoping I can forget you completely, but even if I don’t it doesn’t matter because like I said:

You are dead to me.

Posted in Relationships, Uncategorized

Fears Vol. 1: Job Mistakes Blast from the Past

Sometimes I’m gripped by fear of the past. I’m afraid that my past will find it’s way to rear its ugly head into my bright and shiny, beautiful and glorious future.

As you my faithful readers know, I was unjustly fired from two teaching positions. The second one I can say was filled with absolute animosity and spite….

I can’t say that I was 100% blameless in either of the two positions, I’m sure there were things I could have done better, but at the same time I certainly did not hold 100% of the blame.

When I think about the ways in which I would like to live my life…. when I think about all the awesome things I want to achieve and the billions of lives I want to change, I think back to my past and I am haunted by the endless questions:

  1. What if they discredit me?
  2. What if they speak ill against me?
  3. What if they use my past performance against me?
  4. What if they sabotage me?
  5. What if they lie about me?

I know it’s so dumb to live in fear, but I’d be lying if I said these things didn’t keep me up at night sometimes.

I want to leave the past in the past where it belongs… but in today’s world, where everyone is looking for a piece of the pie and people will intentionally throw people under the bus to get there, I can’t help but wonder if my past employers will try to ruin my life, all because they’re wicked miserable people who couldn’t see the value I brought to the company, and were angry because I called them out on their shit.

I don’t know. But I’m praying for them. And myself.

I’m not the first one to be fired from a job…. I’m really not. I won’t be the last. I have nothing to fear. God’s got me.

I’m moving on.

Posted in Heart's Desires, Relationships

You Gotta Draw The Line Somewhere

Spoke with a friend earlier today and she shared about how a friend of hers had given a guy head. Even though she and this guy weren’t in a committed relationship and the guy made it clear that he had no intentions of being with her, she still sucked his dick.

I know in a previous post I quoted the whole “Never say never” thing and the importance of being open and flexible, but there are rules, and then there are exceptions to the rules.

NEVER WILL I EVER suck the dick of a man that I am not married to. Period.

If I’m going to engage in an act of abasement (let’s be real man… I know there’s this whole “oh the woman has the power when she’s giving a guy head…. but let’s just be honest…. who again is on their knees? Oh alright then)….. then it better damn well be with a man that’s sticking with me for life.

Fuck that whole friends with benefits shit.

Fuck the idea of pleasuring a man that could care less about my own pleasure.

Fuck the idea of even wasting a nanosecond of my time on a man who has not proven himself worthy and who has no intentions of valuing anything I give him. BEEN THERE DONE THAT (the wasting time part… not that other shit) AND I AM NEVER DOING IT AGAIN.

Life is too short. Can’t be wasting it on dumb fuckbois.

Now excuse me while I finish drawing my line in the sand.

Posted in Relationships

I’m Alive Because of Him

I’ve struggled with suicidal ideation since about the age of 7/8. I remember the first time I threatened my mom that I would kill myself.

I didn’t mean it. But I didn’t want her to report me to the pastor. She called him anyway, to tell him about how bad I had been (I bought Crossroads starring Brittney Spears on pay per view and blamed it on my baby brother #fuckinghorribleliar).

For years and years afterward I would fantasize about killing myself. Slitting my wrists, jumping out of the window, stabbing myself, hanging myself. I thought about it all.

These thoughts would intensify in frequency during particularly stressful and painful moments in the house, which happened more often that I would care to admit.

But I never did it.

During middle school I would cry myself to sleep almost every night. I hated my life. I felt so alone and miserable. I wasn’t really allowed to spend much time outside the house, so I spent hours inside the house watching TV, listening to music, sleeping, playing computer games and if I could get my hands on books, then reading.

High school came around. I was busier. I felt better, at least I thought I did, but honestly high school was a blur. I do remember spending a great portion of my 10th and 11th grade years in a haze anxiety and a cloud of tears. I would spend hours in a dark closet, rocking myself back and forth, praying for relief from the fear that I was sure would destroy me. I remember taking personality tests and being told that I had a melancholic personality…. I was sure that I would be painfully shy, sad and fearful for the rest of my life. I begged God to help me.

And He did. Because I made it.

College came. I was bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Determined to make a name for myself, to make more friends and to live life to the fullest I tried to be more outgoing. I tried to talk and fake myself happy. But the fear and sadness that clung to me so tightly in the re-emerged. I went to a psychology fair and got a free mental health screening. He told me I might have Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

I told him I had Jesus.

He told me to hold onto the faith.

I did.

My faith got me through my hellish college experience, where I spent more time crying than living my life. And more time wanting to die than actually living life.

My faith got me through a difficult first year of teaching, where almost everyday I contemplated jumping in front of train tracks to escape the inevitable pain I would face that day from broken children and administration that could not heal them.

My faith got me through my second year of teaching when I thought I would my eyes would certainly turn into oceans from all the tears they held. Surely I would get into a car accident if I kept crying this much and this hard on my way to work everyday.

My faith got me through my third year of teaching when I contemplated getting into a car accident so I didn’t have to go to work; when my administration bullied me relentlessly….. when I got unjustly suspended and later fired. During my third year I was 3 steps away from my first attempt. But Jesus saved me.

Because He lives, I have faced many many many tomorrows.

Because He lives, I can find the courage and strength to keep walking in the midst of fire.

And like a phoenix, I will rise from the ashes of this beautiful mess that is currently my life.

Because He lives, anxiety, depression and suicide are not my portion. I don’t need medication. I don’t need a mental institution. I just need Jesus, a therapist, this blog and the loving support of friends and family.



Posted in Relationships

Owning My Choices

I have a loving family, yes I do.

But my parents unfortunately do not believe in healthy boundaries.

They guilt trip me, emotionally manipulate me and make me feel like shit because I don’t spend more (translation: all) of my time with them. This makes it hard to own my choices without feeling guilty.

I am 25…. I have a job, an apartment, a car, responsibilities, goals and dreams.

And yet they want me to leave what is mine and come back to them. To live with them.

I’m trying to establish myself. To make myself a better adult. To achieve the dreams and goals I’ve set for myself in life.

They think it foolish that I would want to become an adult outside the confines of their house, smothering love and care.

Sometimes I feel like I’m crazy. Am I stupid to want to try to grow up on my own? I’m not divorcing myself completely from my parents. I still visit them quite frequently (1-2x per month). I try to be intentional about spending time with them. I talk with them.

But they make me feel like a selfish piece of shit.

They nag me. They tell me I don’t spend enough time with them. They ask me why I’m running away from them.

Mom and dad you don’t get it. I’m not running away from you. I’m trying to figure out my life. I’m trying to find myself.

And then they tell me, “You know we won’t be around forever.”

Fear lodges in my throat. The ground beneath me disappears. And I’m faced once again with the truth that one day my parents will die. They won’t be there for me.

When that day comes, will I regret all the choices that I’ve made? Will I wish I spent more time with my parents?

With each passing day, I feel like more of a failure. I don’t love enough. I don’t spend enough time with my family. I don’t make enough money. I’m not brave enough. I’m not good enough.

With each passing day, my parents remind me of how much I’ve fucked up in life. They tell me in many different ways with many different tones. Subtly, directly.

Being around my parents sometimes makes me wish I were never born. To carry the weight of someone else’s disappointments is a painfully soul-crushing thing.

But it’s too late to die. And I’m too brave to kill myself.

Posted in Relationships

She’s Afraid Of Children

She loves children.

She wants a big family.

When she was younger, she was a self-proclaimed baby/child whisperer, and yet…..

She’s afraid of being around children.

She’s still trying to unpack why exactly, but I have some ideas.

She was molested as a child (between 5 and 7).

She acted out what happened to her on some friends (age 5).

When she was 5, she kissed a baby, tongue and all (ewww)…..

I know this girl. I’ve watched her grow up. We’re best of friends.

She would never hurt or touch a child inappropriately. Ever.

She’s had the responsibility of caring for many young children. And she cared for them well.

Apart from what she did when she was 5, she hasn’t done anything inappropriate to another child ever.

But on the very rare occasion that she lets me into this part of her life, she tells me that she’s afraid that she’s a monster. She’s afraid of herself.

I wish I could convince her that there’s nothing to fear. She’s not the monster who did those things to her. She can re-write the story. She doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. I hate what trauma does to people. I hate how trauma makes people question their own goodness, and sanity. I hate how trauma scares people into thinking that they’re in danger of repeating the past. She’s so much better than what’s she’s been through. I wish she could believe it.

Posted in Heart's Desires, Relationships

The One That Got Away, But Was Never Mine To Begin With

I remember when I first laid eyes on you.

I thought you had a peanut shaped head. Alien like. But you were cute.

I was shy. And obsessed with a friend of yours.

You were into a friend of mine. You liked her breasts. I didn’t have any yet. Damn it puberty. Now I have more than I know what to do with #bigboobproblems #latebloomer

The years went on, and you grew handsomer and handsomer, but we grew farther and farther apart.

You seemed too cool for me. Not my type. And yet my heart…. held this strange attraction to you… stranger than fiction.

I remember when you came over my house with your mom. I was sweating bullets… so nervous because you were so fine and I was so not….

Naija boy. Same tribe. Tall. Chocolate. Piercing eyes. Handsome. Delicious. Not mine.

Years later my mom revealed to me that your mom had come to her with a proposition. She wanted us to get married.

*record screech*

SAY WHAT NOW? Married? Why? How? Oh you’re dating someone. Oh y’all have been dating for a while? Oh you have a baby on the way??!? #rumorhasit

*resume music*

I saw your IG. You’ve been with the girl for a few years. She’s my year, possibly my age. She’s certainly not prettier than me. She cute though. No baby in sight. I think they lied to me.

And yet there you are.

Thoughts pass through my mind, memories of an alternate timeline. Different choices, different lives…. mountains of what ifs…. what if we were together? What if you were mine? What if you gave me the time of day? What if we met up and talked? What if we worked things out? What if what if what if?

And yet we’re not. And I have to be ok with that. I can’t waste any more time on the counterfactuals.

We chose our paths, we chose our lives. We made our beds and we lied in them.

You’re living your life. I’m living mine. We breathin’, we chillin’ we makin’ that guap. I’m hustling and grinding, don’t know when I’ll stop.

Even though you were never mine to begin with. I’m letting you go. I’m letting go of the what ifs, could haves, maybes and why nots. They don’t matter in this timeline, in this reality.

In this reality, I am single. I’m alone but I’m not lonely.

In this reality, I am not where I want to be, but I’m not where I used to be, and I’ll make damn sure that I don’t stay where I’m at.

In this reality, the best is yet to come. Bae gon’ find me, and when he does I’ll be chasing my dreams.

You weren’t the best I could do. You aren’t something to pine after or miss or regret. You are of my past, and you are best left there.




Posted in Relationships

Running Through These Streets with My Woes?????

Parents and bros are in town. I should be happier right?

Well…. not exactly. I love my parents and bros to life. They bring much joy and happiness…. but being around them is emotionally exhausting.

I can’t handle the expectations. My parents have been NAGGING THE HELL OUT OF ME LATELY about being in a relationship.

*record screech*

What the fuck?

I just turned 25 and somehow relationships is now all they’re talking about. I mean… they mentioned it briefly/jokingly when I was 24… but now it’s like the floodgates have opened and every time I see them “Are you dating anyone? WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO? You should have your eye on someone right now at this age. And look at the way you’re dressed. It’s no wonder. Who will look at you when you look like that?”


“Daughter, give me grandkids! I WANT GRANDKIDS!”

Eye roll.

God. Here I am, trying to be content in my singleness and live the life You’ve called me to live, whatever the fuck that means. And now something has possessed my parents to take such a special and invested in my relationship and reproductive statuses.

My heart hurts. I’m more than annoyed. I’m troubled. I’m troubled because I can’t seem to find peace in the now. I’m not where I want to be. I hate where I’ve come from, and I don’t know where the fuck I’m going.

Everything seems so uncertain.

I lift my eyes unto the hills, from where does my help come?

………..from the Lord. But God it feels like you’re harming more than helping me these days.

From where does my husband come?

……….from the Lord. But God, I see no prospects. Even on the best days when I slay, not a single soul glances my way (at least not the men I want to attract)…….You are acting like You want me to remain single.

From where does my revelation about the future come?

……….from the Lord…. but God I’m more confused about my future than ever.

From where does my grace to study for the GMAT/LSAT/GRE come from?

………from the Lord. But God……..I sit down to study and the focus and clarity are not there. My mind races, my heart is overwhelmed. What am I doing wrong?

From where does my peace come from?

………from the Lord. But I feel like You’ve stripped me of Your peace and torn me in pieces.

From where does my contentment come from?

………from the Lord. But You’ve blessed everyone else with the same things I’ve been believing for and crying out and contending for. What the hell are You doing God.

And so it is.

Parents complaining about my relationship status. Parents complaining about the fact that I don’t spend enough time with them.

Parents complaining that all my mates are prospering while I look like I’m staying stagnant. Fuck. They’re right. Everyone is moving on swiftly and I’m crawling along at a snail’s pace. Trying to figure out my life.

Ugh. These woes. These hoes. These streets. These sheets. I’m tired. Of Life. Of strife.