I’m usually annoyed as fuck first thing in the morning. But when I woke up this morning, I was in a better mood than usual and I didn’t even notice it until I started cleaning out my toilet, after my morning business. Who cleans out the toilet after they use it? (Somebody with time).
Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror when I walked past. The glimpse stopped me dead in my tracks. When I looked in the mirror, I smiled at myself. I took a good deep look into my own eyes and smiled. “I look good today.” I thought to myself.
I washed my hands. Brushed my teeth.
Then I went back to the mirror again and stared. I smiled hard. Then it came to me. I recognized myself again.
I had not seen myself since 2016. I can remember the exact moment in time when I last looked at myself good and hard. I was on an Ethiopian Air flight back to Los Angeles that January when I went to the plane lavatory and caught myself under the purple mood lighting in the mirror. That was before the breakdown happened, before I cut my hair, before I became allergic to chicken. Before I lost myself in the shuffle of cards called life.
This morning my routine changed. If I’m being honest, I never brush my teeth first thing in the morning. Mouthwash. But a full brushing? Only after I’ve smoked, drank coffee and before I leave the house. Before I start talking to people directly. Never first thing in the morning. Maybe TMI, but I have the luxury of not having to interact with people off rip – cut me some slack.
While staring back at myself, I thought about Samantha who I ran into in December 2017. After the breakdown happened. She was someone I went to high school with that I randomly ran into at neighborhood bar on a drunken depressed night. Samantha was literally the jump start of me finding myself again. She presented me with a job opportunity after I was blacklisted in L.A. and guided me through all of 2018 along with Kristina who let me live in her house a whole ass 90 days while I worked through what was happening to me and my friend Karen who listened and provided legal advice while also being that friend who bought lunch and was just there for me without judgement. They were the foundation that provided a safe space on the east coast and literally hid me away from the very things that threatened my existence.
When I came back to L.A. in 2019, I avoided everyone. I didn’t tell anyone I was back. I was sort of in hiding. Los Angeles has never been a place where I felt emotionally safe or supported. If we’re being honest, it’s a city full of vultures. It’s a city that takes your all and gives you nothing in return. I’ve always had a love hate relationship with Los Angeles and the people that live in it. People say they have your back and they miss your life, but never show up to parties, they don’t return calls and they damn sure don’t double tap your photos on insta let alone be a friend when you really need one. So why even tell these people that I’m back when it’s always been fake love? I really wasn’t gonna do that when I noticed someone following me around town whenever I left the house. If my homegirl wasn’t in the car with me to witness it for herself, hoes would have for real said I lost my rabbit ass mind. You know how niggas do. But what they didn’t know is that, it was actually happening.
It didn’t help that I had to come back to L.A. for legal reasons, but to be here against your will without support requires a different type of mental strength that most people just simply don’t have. Then trying to figure out how to support yourself when your name has been pissed on makes it even more difficult. This is the part where people fold and buckle. No money. No job. No friends and NO family, is a disaster waiting to happen. But I knew that there was something to my isolation.
As I continued to study myself in the mirror today, I smiled more. I survived the unthinkable. I didn’t break when everything was stripped and every friend was gone. When my bank account was in the negative and I didn’t have any credit to my name. Then I began to think about how I got to back to recognizing myself again. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
Around May of 2019, I left the neighborhood and went to a bar by the beach early one Sunday Morning (for the record, I’m not a drunk, even though I like the bars). In a circumstance orchestrated by none other than the universe, I ran into another High School acquaintance of mine, my prom dates brother. Not thinking it would be anything more than an in the moment situation, it became a Sunday ritual. A ritual that turned into a connection which became an unexpected key to my healing. The connection provided a safe space and reshaped my entire outlook on my unhealthy relationship with Los Angeles entirely. I went there for a drink and left with a friend that loved me like a brother and asked for nothing in return. His friendship has singlehandedly restored my faith in people after being shitted on by those closest to me for years.
2020. The year that rocked the entire planets core. On top of everything else, personally I almost bled to death (I’ll talk about it later), came to terms with things that needed to be dealt with emotionally and most importantly, I started loving on myself more. In turn, it allowed me to connect with friends on levels that surpassed all of our expectations. We had conversations that were raw and life changing. I didn’t think it was possible after being so closed off, cautious and paranoid of everything and everyone because of what I experienced in 2016. Their friendship allowed me to be vulnerable and honest in ways I had never been before. My friends taught me how to love again. Their love and their acceptance allowed me to reconnect with pieces of myself that had been attacked. Parts of me that I was explicitly told were wrong and should be denied. My friends broke the box I had been placed in and set me free while helping me put back together the pieces of me that I thought were irreversibly broken.
Unexpectedly, out of nowhere I connected with a someone I had known in passing for years, but hadn’t ever really had a conversation with them. One random night, we were out and we had a conversation about an incident we were both witness to. Their perspective was just like mine. In fact, their perspective was so much like mine, it was something that I would have said verbatim. Just not as concise. I paused for a moment and thought to myself, “Wow. Someone that actually thinks like me. What are the chances?” And I left it there. But then, we started laughing at each other’s jokes. Then came the random eye contact from across the room when someone made a fucked-up comment. Then it hits you. You’re looking at a mirror, in the form of another person. It’s the scariest and the most beautiful thing at the same time. You know what’s interesting? You can pray and hope that you meet someone that not only sees you for exactly who you are, but they understand who you are too AND they accept it. It does something inexplicable to you. It is not every day that you meet anyone that is just as smart, funny, personable as you that also isn’t full of shit. A gift of friendship in the middle of a pandemic.
I’ve gone through a lot of mental and emotional turmoil in the course of 5 years. What I will say out of everything that has happened to me, in hindsight I’m glad it happened when it did. You know how some people lost everything in 2020? Well, that was my life over the last 5 years. Eviction, breakup, job loss, having to move back home to your old bedroom ‘cause you’re broke and have to start over…plus some shit that I can’t even talk about because people LOVE to try to use your words against you. It low key prepped me for 2020.
I didn’t think I’d ever recognize myself again let alone write anything else or do anything besides sit up in my room like Brandy and smoke reefer. The number of things I’ve had to overcome back-to-back without a reprieve…especially when you’re being watched and stalked all across town AND when anything you say or type can and will be used against you in the court of law.
Through all of the hurt, the emotional terrorism, the feelings of inadequacy, the gaslighting, the ghosting, the lawsuits, the jealous friends, the high-speed chases, the people that don’t know how to love you right…I’m fortunate. I’m grateful. I’m blessed. I’m loved. I’m connected. I’m a survivor. I lived through it all because It’s more than a story to tell.
One thing is for sure, anything you’re going through it starts with making up your mind that you’re going to be okay and you’ll make it through. Just when you think people are full of shit and you hate everyone, God plays a trick on your human ass and drops people right in your lap to heal, inspire and make you whole again when you feel like (and know) the entire world has done you wrong.
Great people are the added benefit to the reward when you’ve survived hell.
All in all, this is a love letter to my friends. A thank you for staying in or walking into my life when it wasn’t easy. For understanding my distance and my moods, for not giving up on me. For making space in your life for me. For sharing your experiences with me, so I wouldn’t feel alone, so that I could heal. Thank you understanding me, for listening to me, for not making me feel crazy, for validating me when I didn’t even know I needed it, for responding to a text, for including me, for having my back, for sparking my creativity, for making sure I was safe. For being vulnerable, for celebrating me, for showing up for me. All the times you’ve hyped me up, buying into my dream, for loving me, for saving my life.
To: Brandon Jade, Samantha, The Black Karen, My Manager Kristina, Black Barbie, Dean Duplessis, Candice of The Dons, My Internationally beloved Celebrity Actor friend Shawn, Shannon O’Neal-Prescott, The Good Time Girls, Don Juan and The Skinny Legend. Thank you for ushering in a new chapter in my life. I revere you in the highest form and hold sacred space in my heart for being a friend when no one else was.