THE FACTORY.

There’s this song by a Jamaican artist called Dexta Daps called 7 eleven. The premise of the song is that he has a girl and people keep telling him that she’s cheating on him but he tells them did I ask y’all to watch her for me? He realizes that they’re haters so they’re throwing salt on my good sis name and also her pum pum tun up so he doesn’t care. He says “all when them say six man go there, guess who makes seven?”. Like talk your shit but imma still deal with her. Now the only time I feel like anybody should ever be concerned with anyone’s crotches is when you borrow it sometimes and you don’t want that person to damage it. You know, like a Mr. Potato head toy. I remember trynna gossip to my childhood best friend Rah and him always telling me to mind my business. I used to be so annoyed as a teenager but I get it now.

The thing is we don’t know about people’s lives enough to sit there and judge them. Even if we do, still don’t ! because who’s perfect? I’m not. The values that I grew up with were shaped by so many different factors than the values that someone else grew up with and it doesn’t make them wrong just different. We can agree to disagree on many topics and just keep it moving from there. Even though I don’t agree with things that people may say or do I try to understand their way of thinking. It helps me to understand why they do certain things and although I wish others would take the time to do the same with me life isn’t fair that way. I’ve learned people will create the narrative they feel they need to in order to justify what they have done to you. I’ve also learned people are selfish which isn’t a bad thing because you’re supposed to care about yourself and want the best for yourself. The only time it’s bad is when you get the short end of the stick.

With that being said and a new year approaching fast yet not fast enough cause 2019 dragged me but y’all I’m working on some things. I’m working on healing so that I can let go of yesterday because yesterday is heavy and I have so many other things to carry and I need to make room. I’ve done some dumb shit and I had to sit down and ask myself why? Where do these decisions stem from because they don’t make me feel good at the end of the day. Then after I would try to make myself feel better by talking about others instead of talking about myself and being accountable. These days me and my friends don’t even talk about other people (majority of the time). I’ve even stopped flaming Emily B because only god knows why she allowed what she allowed and that’s none of my business. We talk about ourselves and what we are gonna do and how we are gonna do it. So I promised a really good friend of mine I would work on a really big issue that I have.

Men. I realized I fought like a soldier as a child for the attention of my dad and it was still never good enough. If I got a 98 on a test he would ask me where’s the other 2? If I got 100 on a test he would ask me why didn’t I do this all the time? It was never good enough so I gave up. I mean the man can make me feel so tiny even to this day. After all of my weight loss from a size 14/16 to a 4/6 when I was trying on a pair of pants he said to me those are kind of tight maybe you should lose some more weight. I felt huge all over again and this was in October to show you he still has a grip on me. So when my mom finally let me off my leash or I found a way out I went wild. It’s like how men who beat women can literally sense which women will allow it. I know so many men in my past sensed the lack of confidence and the yearning to be loved and accepted and they took that. Is it right ? No . Can I blame them? No. I don’t know their story to blame them so I won’t. I’m gonna take responsibility.

When men started to want me I was ecstatic. I wish someone would have told me that was Lust not love though because I fell in so many traps. As long as the words were kind the legs were open and that my dear is the sad truth. Then things changed and they changed fast. If you’ve never heard the manipulation part 2 by wale you should listen to it because that’s exactly what happened. After they got what they wanted they were out. It left me more damaged than before and so instead of learning from it I moved on and did it again and again and again. I did it until I made myself think that all I was good for was a walking pocket pussy and that’s sad. I had to put up this tough exterior meanwhile I was home sad and taking it out on myself. I still have scars from the razors to my wrists, alcohol and drugs to numb the pain but that only made it worse.

I know people love to ask me why I quit dancing and I give them this super generic answer because the truth is a lot. I’ve sat on it for a long time and I’m finally letting it go. I worked in clubs and I did bookings as well and I never had any issues. I started adding underground clubs into the mix because they were easy money but they were always at these ghetto ass venues. Then one day I went to an underground club but it was in a house and I was a little uncomfortable but okay, whatever, money is money. So at the end of the night I’m ready to go and I’m looking around kinda lost for the bar area so I can get a water. A stranger who’s face I can’t remember because my brain has blurred it out asks me if I’m okay . I say “yes, I’m just trying to find the bar to get a water”. He tells me to wait right there and brings me back a bottle of water. I drank it down so fast and I should’ve looked at it first but I was naive and I was thirsty and too trusting. He talked to me for a few until the room started to feel weird. I was getting really tired and dizzy and he offered to drive me home but before I could even answer he helped me out and into the taxi he had outside. When he said home he meant his home not mine. He had drugged the water and all I remember is being in and out of consciousness with him on top of me. When I regained consciousness I got dressed and I ran until I couldn’t run anymore. I called a taxi to the address I was in front of to Melissa’s house and I cried in her arms. I went home and I cried some more. My mother being who she is never pressed me but she knows. She said “ someone did something bad to you ?” While rubbing my back. To which I could only shake my head yes. She asked if I wanted to tell or if I wanted to talk and I said no. I stopped dancing that day it depressed me for months.

In the back of my mind that solidified that I was only good for one thing for years, UNTIL NOW! I’m reclaiming my power from him and from my dad and from anyone else who I have allowed to take advantage of me because I am more than that. My friend Zay said to me “I wish you could see what I see”. I’m finally starting to understand what she meant. She sees someone who is beautiful and smart and amazing and funny. So remember it’s never too late to reclaim your power or to right your wrongs. The only thing that we cannot fix is death and I’m very much alive. I’ve made the decision that I’m gonna be happy. Sadness is easy for me and it’s what I fall back on but I’m trying something new. I’m gonna treat myself like the lambo I am no more Honda activity. I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy but listen anything worth having is worth fighting for and baby I’m worth fighting for.