Sunday Afternoon Treat

My heart still beat madly out of my chest, the cage of butterflies busted open and when I saw him, my soul smiled. It’s like when we first kissed in 1995, in the church courtyard that linked our schools, and I went to a different dimension. The feeling you feel when you never knew you could be so satisfied and yet wanting so much more, this feeling, this thought, this nostalgia made those seven years feel like seven minutes and I was back in the company of the person who was the most important person in my life on Sunday afternoons in 1995.

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The Spark

The routine of good morning texts, wyd texts, and let us make a plan to hang once a week is the antithesis of a slow burn, and I need slow burn. I believe in reaching out when I have something important to say, when I know I want to see him and we create that plan. I prefer to save conversations for in-person connection and taking it from there. Anyone who is a parent, works and has adulting to do is going to be very selective with their time and will want to spend it wisely. I can get behind that idea and take things as they come.

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Namaste But NammafuckyouUp: Don’t Let The Easy Vibes Fool You

In fact, the advocacy IS to speak up when bothered and if it’s not understood when I say it tactfully, then I’ll just have to bring out my inner goon and let motherfuckers know that my personal peace trumps whatever the fuck they think of me. Yes, Namaste, the light in me sees the light in you, but Nammafuckyouup, the goon in me sees the shade in you. Do not fuck with me. Come to me respectfully, and I promise I will absolutely do the same. However I will not be muted, silenced or looked over because that’s what someone believes I deserve. I’m going to speak up for myself and that’s just that.


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You Can’t Sit With Us

Every opportunity isn’t for everyone, and all spots have to be earned. We carve out our space in this world, choose our communities wisely, and build from the ground up when we weren’t invited to certain tables. Everyone can effectively choose where they will sit and how they will show up in this world based on their sense of self. Everyone at some point will be rejected from tables, however, that’s an opportunity to create your own. Every table isn’t for everybody and if you want to stay at a table there are rules, and if you cannot comply, then you can’t sit here. Period.

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The Deceptive Allure Of Cheating

At some point, one or both parties will want more than either or both can effectively deliver, and this is where the front row seat to the shit show of your life begins to play out. Sure, the desire at the beginning trumped your common sense, respect for all parties involved and the incredibly devastating consequences therefore, now panic and pain resides permanently in your thoughts. What have you done? Well, you sold out the person who you willingly agreed to communicate with at the beginning of your relationship. You chose to play out scenarios in your head when communication became difficult and you effectively allowed the space for an outsider to trample on everything you created with someone who trusted you. Your selfishness became the standard and your integrity has become null and void.

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Sweet Liars

How does one process the painful ramifications of the fallout of the lies from a sweet liar? It’s almost easier to deal with an outright asshole because they never hid their deception. At least assholes are wolves from the beginning and you have a choice to lay with a hungry wolf, who you know will rip your heart and emotions to shreds. Also, with an asshole who is honest, you’ll never have to guess what’s coming, it’ll be in your face and you can make a conscious choice to tackle the situation or not.

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A Letter To Anyone Haunted By The Trauma Of Not Being Believed…

You as an adult never realize when you’ll have a moment of flashback until you’re drowning in tears and unable to catch your breath because you’re being suffocated by the silence and rage you’ve had to swallow for years because NO ONE took the time to make you feel protected, wanted and like they would bring justice to your cries for help. This is for those of us who have sat in silence because there have been no examples where we have ever felt like our bodies mattered enough for anyone to care. This letter is for all of us who are so scarred by our trauma of not being believed or being brushed off entirely. It’s not your fault.

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