Lessons.

Hey y’all. I know, I know … where the hell have I been right? Listen .. ya girl had a moment, relapsed and got her little feelings hurt but I’m back now and ANOTHER lesson has been learned. When I finally came out of my funk, I realized I had neglected the thing I love to do most and that’s write. Hell, I didn’t even know what I wanted or needed to write about until now. 

I celebrated my Freedom Anniversary (as I like to call it) on May 28, 2021 as it had been a year since the day I finally chose myself. Since that day, I have been up and down emotionally but learning consistently. I’ve decided to share a few of those lessons with you.

Lesson #1: Nobody is coming.

Listen y’all as this is one of the toughest lessons I had to learn … 

NOBODY IS COMING. 

Nobody is coming to save you, nobody is coming to help you, nobody is coming to pick you up. Nobody. YOU have to be there for your own self. YOU have to be the one who picks themselves up off the floor after you fall. It’s YOU, baby. YOU have to be your own savior. This was one hell of a lesson for me as someone who has been a savior all her life. I was always the one who was quick to jump whenever someone needed me. It took me being in the darkest chapter of my life to realize that it was up to me to free myself. It was up to me to love myself. It was up to me to heal myself because unlike the fairytales, there is no knight in shining armor.

Learning that nobody was coming to save me helped me learn how to depend on myself and not others. It helped me to rely on myself and have faith within myself. It taught me that I was capable of doing much more than I believed I could. It taught me that I was stronger than I thought. It taught me to focus on my cup, my plate, hell MY table, only because at this moment in life, I’m the only one who I’m worried about having a seat at my table.

Lesson #2: Be Patient.

If anyone knows me, they know one of my biggest flaws is my impatience. Soon as my Freedom Anniversary hit, I was like YES, I’M HEALED! Let’s date. Chileeeeeee .. thee absolute ghetto. Who said the dating pool has pee in it? On everything, they did NOT lie but let me elaborate on this a bit before I sound like I’m bashing men.

After spending an entire year with myself and Ace’s ass (my puppy, for those who do not know), I was ready to venture out and meet new people. Unfortunately, I rushed myself and literally forgot everything I had learned because bayyybeeee, those rose colored glasses were on AGAIN. It was in that moment that I opened myself up, forgetting all boundaries and no sooner than later, God was poppin’ me on the back of my neck with his chancla while saying DIDN’T I TELL YOU through gritted teeth.

That setback woke me TF up. I had to check in with myself and realize I was rushing again. You know how hard it is to want something so bad but you keep getting told you can’t have it yet? Trust me, I know this feeling all too well. This feeling and my impatience led me to a lot of the fuck shit I’ve dealt with in my life. I finally told myself to take my foot off the gas and just coast for a bit. I needed to continue learning myself and what it is that I truly want and don’t want because I do want to be a girlfriend again. I actually want to be a wife one day … I just want to be a happy one.

Lesson #3: Establish boundaries and BE FIRM with them.

Boundaries are something that have been foreign to me my entire life. It was because of my lack of boundaries that I’ve experienced some of the hardest lessons. In my codependent and abandoned mind, I felt boundaries were a bad thing because they kept people away. After being abandoned by my biological father as a child, I held tight to people … no matter how unhealthy their presence was. I feared being left but that was all that had been happening after individuals got what they came to receive.

It was at the tender age of 32 that I realized boundaries weren’t a wall that kept people away. Boundaries were indeed a wall but they were a wall of protection. For so many years, I neglected to protect that bright eyed and innocent four year old. It took exploring my inner child in therapy for me to realize that I’ve been conditioned to this behavior because I’ve never felt safe.  It was at this moment that I realized I had been living in survival mode for so long. What I thought was my personality was actually a full blown defense mechanism. I’m not a “hard” person. I’m not an “angry” person. Sure, I’m quite the asshole at times with my quick wit and sarcasm but in all actuality, I’m sensitive as shit. Like a true Aquarius though, I’d rather die than be that transparent, LOL.

I still struggle with holding tight to my boundaries but lately, they have been doing me justice. I still feel like I’m in survival mode because the only time I feel safe is when I’m in the comforts of my own home with myself. Boundaries are my security blanket as of right now. They’re keeping me and allowing me to be me as I continue to learn me. The best part about this journey has been finding myself and loving myself, being attentive to my needs, and being in control of my emotions. If you say I’ve changed, my response to you would be … about time.

Disappointments.

I know, I know y’all … it’s been awhile since I’ve dropped a few words but the real can’t be forced. When I write, I usually grab a notebook and write my thoughts down as a rough draft before I type and publish my work. Tonight, I decided to set the mood by lighting some of my KullturedKandy candles and pour a glass of wine … then sitting myself down and just flowing.

I decided to title this piece, “Disappointments”, because in life, we all have experienced them. They say having expectations leads to disappointments and damn, if that ain’t the truth. In this chapter, not only am I learning that I can’t control the outcome of situations in my life but I am also learning it is okay to be the disappointment in the chapters of others.

Having someone disappointed in me used to unsettle me. I wouldn’t feel as though I was performing as my best self unless I was doing something for someone. Previously I mentioned to you all my issues with codependency and in unlearning this behavior, I am also learning to wholeheartedly not give a fuck … just flow (April Nichole, @NikkiesThoughts). I used to care so much that it would be to my own detriment. Now, I am so focused on the betterment of myself that I truly do not have the urge to please anyone.

When you are becoming comfortable in being a disappointment, you realize your interactions with people will change. Lately, I’ve noticed in my interactions with some people, many of them are still stuck on the “old Shayna.” The Shayna from the past who was apologetic even though she had nothing to be sorry for … the Shayna who consistently poured into others though her cup was empty … the Shayna who accepted apologies she never received … the Shayna who loved others more than she loved herself.

I recently had someone tell me that I had a history of not telling the truth and to their credit, they were right. Did I get upset with that statement? Not at all because honestly … that was the past. I can’t be mad at someone who is still stuck there and doesn’t want to take the time to see my growth. 2007, 2012, 2016, 2019 Shayna is not the same woman who now sits in 2020. I recently had someone tell me I was a horrible friend because I don’t answer calls or text messages anymore. Honestly, they’re right. If I know there is something coming to disturb my peace, I will not receive it … at least, not until I am ready to. If I know there is someone coming to receive and not reciprocate, I do not accept them into my space.

I am learning it is okay to not always show up for everyone. It’s not okay to not show up for yourself. I am learning that it is not my obligation to fix nor heal everyone. I had to wake up and realize that I was slacking in my boundaries … slacking in using my voice to acknowledge my wants and needs. I was so used to being a giver that I wouldn’t voice when my cup was empty and needed a refill. RECIPROCITY … I’m not giving you no more than you giving me. This isn’t to say I no longer care about certain people .. this is to say, “Yes, I want the best for you but not to my detriment!” (April Nichole, @NikkiesThoughts).

Some people aren’t going to accept your growth. For most people, it’s more comfortable for them leaving you right where they left you at … in the past. Especially when your past self was easier to deal with .. easier to manage and easier to use to their benefit. There are some people in my life who have noticed my growth and have acknowledged it. I have been told on many occasions that the light has returned to my eyes and my smile. I thank you all so much but please believe me when I say, this is only the beginning because …

 

I’M ABOUT TO LIGHT THIS MUHFUCKA UP!!

Bringing Sexy Back.

Today I saw a quote on Facebook that said “Being called ugly all your life then having people attracted to you in adulthood is weird”, and I immediately felt that. Growing up, I was always chubby, heavy set, overweight … whatever the hell they wanted to call it. I never knew what it felt like to be desired or wanted in middle school and high school. My tomboy ass was on the basketball team and rocked straight back cornrows like I was Cleo in Set It Off. I rocked Jordans like it was my job and the most girly thing about me were my SWV nails, LOL.

Life changed when I got to college and I started receiving compliments which I couldn’t take to save my life. One of those compliments were “sexy.” My awkward ass didn’t know ANYTHING about being sexy. SEXY?! I was the type who would try winking at a dude and ended up blinking but each eye was delayed. Embarrassing much? Lap dance? HA! Excuse me while I fall over your legs and step on your toes .. SEND HELP SOMEBODY! I need Meg the Stallion’s knees!

Reclaiming your “sexy” is no easy task, especially after a bad relationship or a string of bad relationships where your confidence took a hit. Remember last week when I spoke about chapters … well, bringing sexy back is apart of my “self” chapter. I recently spent a weekend with my sister tribe and we enjoyed some libations and laughs. Apart of the soirée was to wear some sexy lingerie and I, for one, have never wore sexy lingerie. First of all, some of the shit be complicated as hell. Where does this string go? This snaps to what? F*ck it, be happy my bra and panties match sir 😂

I am in a space where I get sexy for myself and I let my definition of “sexy” be what it is. I’m awkward and I’m funny therefore that’s what comes along with my “sexy.” Sometimes I will prance around my apartment by myself in my little sexy numbers with music playing and wine in my glass. When I pass by a mirror, I hit reverse and say, “DAMN GIRL … YOU KILLIN’ EM!” I say all of this to say, embrace your sexy again ladies. Do it for yourself and enjoy it because regardless of your size or shape, you look good girl! Don’t you EVER forget it!

In conclusion, I can write some sexy shit so I’m blessing y’all with a little something …

 

BEG ME

There he stood, with eyes glaring at me from behind black-rimmed glasses and a smirk on his face.
Meanwhile I stood before him, motionless and wondering how on Earth did I get to this place?
I’ve fought these feelings, this temptation … date after date,
Thinking back to that movie like “90 days girl, make him wait.”
But the sexual tension began to build higher than the wall I’ve made,
and the anxiousness I’ve been feeling, I can no longer escape.
He took a step forward and pulled me into his chest,
so close I could smell the cologne he wore through his vest.
Our eyes met where I could see his lust and desire,
my breathing quickened, preparing for what was about to transpire.
He grabbed the back of my neck as our lips met,
and our tongues danced as my hands tugged at his pants.
He broke our kiss and released me suddenly,
as I stood there … hot, bothered, and ready.
”Tell me what you want,” he said as he walked over and sat on the bed.
”I want you to fuck me”, I replied, looking directly in his eyes.
He smiled and laid back with his hands behind his head and said, “I want you to beg.”
I walked over to him and sat myself on his lap as I pulled him up and wrapped my legs around his back.
He grabbed me by the hair, pulling my head back as I heard the hooks of my bra unsnap.
My neck was exposed and the trail he left with his tongue to my earlobe resulted in the curling of my toes.
I couldn’t fathom some of the sensations he’s awakened,
as he licks and blows, my body shivers with every breath that I take in.
As he continued his assassination of my will, the urge increased for my juices to spill.
I could no longer withstand his tease and the last thing I remember as he slid his fingers in me was my moaning voice cry out …

 

PLEASE!

Chapters.

I think it’s safe to refer to myself as a writer now but what I’ve always been is a reader. To me, there’s nothing like a good book to sit down and get lost in. A truly good book would have you wanting to skip ahead because certain chapters were taking too long. This is what I’ve been doing in my own story.

I don’t believe in New Years resolutions. If I made a resolution, it was always to lose weight and would end up in an epic fail LOL. Instead of having a resolution, I would consider the new year a new chapter in my life and I’d name it. For the past few years, I’ve been naming chapters “Self” over and over again because I screwed up the story the chapter before.

I was constantly naming chapters “Self” because I kept telling myself, this is the part of my story where it’s going to be solely about me … and it wouldn’t be. I kept trying to skip this chapter and get to the good part because writing your own story without any supporting characters is outright hard. I never thought being the main character of my own story would be so lonely. In most good books, (well the romance ones I read) the main character has some type of hero that swoops in and saves the day … saves the story.

In life, we have to realize that we are the authors of our own stories. We can’t look for that hero to come and change the storyline. The pen is always in our hands therefore we’re in control. I know some of us would prefer writing our stories in pencil so we can erase the mistakes. I have plenty of mistakes that I wish I could erase but it’s those mistakes that make the story worth turning the page.

From now on, I’m writing my story in pen … without hesitation. I’m not perfect so the mistakes will continue to be made meaning the lessons will continue to be learned. I’ve decided to take a break off the “Love” chapter. I can always go back to that … when I’m ready. In this part of the story, I’m just going to keep writing and hopefully the main character of Shayna will continue to grow. Keep turning the pages … there is more to come.

08DE4448-2C21-4DC3-8455-7074EB255280

 

 

 

 

Time Heals All.

How many of us can actually say we give ourselves time to heal? How often do we engage in the healing process after we’ve experienced a traumatic or life-altering event? Do we take the necessary steps? Do we rush it or do we just completely ignore the whole thing and act as if it never happened?

I can confidently say I’m one of those people who never actually engaged in healing. I either rushed the process or acted like the event never happened. I was the type to experience a heartbreak then jump head first into another shitty ass situation … just making the same mistakes I had before. Ignoring the red flags I was well aware of and just focusing on the “love” I had been longing for.

I’m currently in a healing process and I’m doing things differently this time around. With that being said, I am uncomfortable as all hell. How does someone who never put themselves first learn this new behavior of being selfish? How does someone who had barely any boundaries now start drawing lines in front of people they used to feel they couldn’t live without? … with time, patience, and work!

I’ll be the first to say I’m an impatient person. I despise waiting .. especially for something I dearly want and feel I deserve. Being impatient though is what’s gotten me into situations that I had no business in. I’d be in those situations and have the patience of a saint yet the whole time, I was unhappy. Unhappy and thinking, “If I give it more time, things will change.” Stupid, right? Hey, we’ve all been there before but hopefully, a lightbulb has went off for some of us and we realize it’s time for a change. There are also those of us who are hard learners and think, “let me try this a third or fourth time, JUST TO BE SURE.”

Change is uncomfortable but growth is apart of the process. Don’t stay in a situation because to you, it has become your new “normal.” There’s nothing normal about being unhappy. There’s nothing normal about losing yourself and settling for the bare minimum. The healing process will not always be fun. Hell, it’s a rollercoaster ride with times where you feel yourself heading up, anticipating what’s at the top. Then suddenly, you hit a drop and you’re just screaming while you plummet and hope you don’t hit the bottom. Embrace it .. the uncomfortable and the ugly because in the end, a beautiful butterfly breaks out of the cocoon. If this healing process thus far has taught me anything, it’s taught me that putting me first isn’t selfish … it’s necessary.

Heal first … love can wait but self … cannot.” – Moore or Less

That Wasn’t Your Place.

Stop asserting yourself into a role you weren’t asked to fulfill.

In figuring out my purpose, I’ve played many roles in life that were not meant for me. There is one role that I reflect on most. I was never asked to play this role. I never auditioned for it. I just asserted myself into it. My childhood trauma impacted me to the point where I was scared of conflict … even the ones that didn’t concern me. I always remembered myself as being the peacemaker, trying to make sure everyone was happy because things were good when everyone was happy.

Now that I am in my 30s, I realized these circumstances led me to become a “fixer.” I was someone who was broken … so in return, I ran around trying to fix everything and everyone I came across. This tied into my relationships as I attracted some of the most broken people. When we become young first time daters, we don’t ask the person we’re dating, “what happened in your childhood that has made you the person you are today?” We don’t ask, “have you any demons that you haven’t addressed through therapy?” In our teens and 20s, we weren’t thinking about things like that even though we were setting up a beautiful life with this person in our minds already. Fixers like myself saw all of your past trials and tribulations that hurt you and thought, “I can fix this.” I thought with this big and generous heart that God blessed me with, I could love away another’s trauma. I thought I could affirm away their insecurities. What I didn’t realize was picking up someone else’s broken pieces only cut me.

Hurt people hurt people, especially when hurt goes unacknowledged. You obsess over proving yourself as the fixer, not realizing that this stems from your own trauma. You’re doing your best to prove your worth and you’re far different from the disappointments that this person has experienced.

Fixers feel like they get what they deserve. If they have been treated like shit then obviously it’s something the fixer is doing wrong. In true fixer fashion, fixers try to “fix it” in the hopes of being loved again. Being a fixer is a toxic trait that many of us have to let go of.

Boundaries are important when you’re overcoming being a fixer. When you’re a fixer, you’re also a giver and you have to be mindful of your limits because these takers have none. Don’t let someone guilt trip you into believing you’re obligated. You are not responsible for the broken pieces of others … just your own.

As for me, I don’t consider myself as broke anymore. I spent a lot of time falling in love with broken people. I spent a lot of time being a fixer and a healer for others. To combat that, I am spending plenty of time alone so that I could fall in love with myself and receive a taste of my own medicine. No longer a fixer, I am now a potter … someone who put the pieces of her broken pottery back together with her own hands.

Friends Break Hearts, Too.

It’s weird how time changes things. Growing up, my childhood trauma and codependency lead me to establish friendships that weren’t always meant for my higher good. I’m an only girl and being an only girl had me looking for sisterhood anywhere I could find it. As a young girl, I was always looking for acceptance and validation … but that wasn’t always what I found.

I remember every connection I’ve ever had with certain individuals with whom I’ve considered to be a friend. There are so many times where I begin to miss them and take a trip down memory lane but these memories also caused me to remember the disrespect.

In the past, I’ve tolerated the highest levels of bullshit and disrespect for the sake of keeping a friend. Trust me, I had all of the excuses for these ain’t shit friends:

”They didn’t mean it.”

”They said they were sorry.”

”We’ve known each other for so long.”

Nikkie’s Thoughts said it best, “Time don’t mean shit! Time is a man made concept. You can meet someone tomorrow who has better intentions and supports you wholeheartedly more than somebody you’ve known all your life.”

I had to learn to accept this harsh reality because I was keeping too many people around straight off of longevity and the love I had for them. Things always started off good in the beginning. We’d hang out and have a good time. We’d laugh and share jokes. Hell, we’d even partake in some gossip together. Soon after, the tables turn and now you’re the topic of conversation when you aren’t around. You start noticing differences in behavior towards you when y’all are around other people. Snide comments are made about your achievements or they’re disguised in sarcastic compliments. You’re left out of certain events and outings because “they forgot” or “they didn’t think you’d want to go.” You realize you’re the one always reaching out and once you decide to no longer extend the effort, y’all no longer speak.

I can’t say how many times this has happened to me in my life. I’ve honestly lost count. I used to grieve and mourn as if I’d just ended a romantic relationship. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized not everyone you lose is a loss. These friendships had to happen and they had to end because I wasn’t holding them or myself accountable. These “friends” were only doing to me what I allowed. As I grew and matured, my tolerance for half-assed friendships lessened and my friendship circles grew smaller.

I’ve experienced my share of friendship heartbreaks, one being recent, and the impact still weighs heavy on my heart to this day. I’ve had people whose opinions I’ve valued point out unhealthy behavior and toxicity in the past that I completely ignored. When you think you know someone, you feel there’s no one who can speak about them to you. Unfortunately, true colors tend to show when situations change. I think as our stories unfold and we write our chapters, never do we think that someone we considered a friend would be written as a villain.

I recently attended a retreat called The Mending Space where I met and connected with women I had never met before. With these women, I felt safe. It was there where I learned that your true friends must provide you with a safe space. Space to be yourself, space to release without judgment, and space to be vulnerable. Friendships are a different version of love. If you can’t comfortably tell your friends you love them or receive it back, spare yourself the heartbreak.

Venture out. Build new connections. Establish healthy boundaries. Love yourself first and everyone else second. Don’t hold or carry any hate in your heart because it’s too heavy of a burden for YOU to bear. Hell, I still have love for old friends as I had loved them before. So to wrap this up, shout out to those “friends.” I still wish the best for you. I still have love for you.

 

Stay away from me though.

 

 

What makes you a good friend is not doing something that you know will intentionally hurt another person.

Black Girl, Interrupted …

The Merriam-Webster dictionary describes self-love as to “love of self” or “regard for one’s own happiness or advantage.”

“People who have more self-love tend to know what they think, feel and want. They are mindful of who they are and act on this knowledge, rather than on what others want for them. Act on what you need rather than what you want. You will love yourself more, when you take better care of your basic needs.”

How old were you when you first heard of self-love? How old were you when you actually learned how to engage in self-love? Let’s be honest, they didn’t teach us how to love ourselves in school. They didn’t teach us the concept of conceit and egotism. They taught us bullshit like “y = mx + b” because finding the slope and y intercept is sure helping me address my mental health and past traumas along with Sallie Mae who won’t stop calling my phone. (BITCH, I DON’T GOT IT!)

I decided to write this post because NO ONE TALKS ABOUT MENTAL HEALTH WITHIN OUR COMMUNITY, and if they do, they’re not being real or transparent. Well, for those that know me, I’m giving it to you straight up, no ice nor chaser, JUST TAKE THIS SHOT!

Sunday, February 24th was a monumental moment in my life for me. I was alone in my apartment when my depression got the best of me. I said “alright Shay, let’s go have this good cry,” (if you haven’t gathered what a good cry is, look up Dane Cook’s “Vicious Circle”) except this good cry was different. I cried and cried … and cried because I kept saying to myself, “I don’t want to be here anymore.” Now my dramatic ass has had these moments before but not to the extent where I actually started formulating a plan. My fellow mental health professionals know what “the plan” is and means. I even started writing the letter I’d leave behind in my head. Out of nowhere, I stopped and got up off the floor (told y’all I was dramatic, LOL). I looked in the mirror and thought, “holy shit, I’m the 2007 Brittney Spears.” I had completely and utterly lost my shit for a moment. I broke down after constantly bottling my emotions and telling everyone that asked I was okay when I wasn’t.

Not too long ago, one of my best friends told me that I was the “strong friend.” I had to agree because I am selfless. I’m the type to talk someone off a ledge while my world is collapsing beneath me. I always put others before myself. I was always the type to invest in everyone else’s happiness except my own. Then February 24th happened and I realized that in that moment, all I had was me. I looked at my phone but then realized what time it was and said, “Girl, ain’t nobody going to answer the phone.” For the first time, I had to be the strong friend for myself because when you’re up at 3am crying like Taraji in Baby Boy, all you have is you and God.

According to the American Association of Suicidology, there were 44,193 suicides in 2015 alone with 5,491 of them being youth aged between 15-24. The association conducted a study in 2008 which researched the impact of low self-esteem and lack of self-love and its relation to suicidal tendencies and attempts. They defined self-love as being “beliefs about oneself and beliefs about how other people regard oneself.” It concluded that “depression, hopelessness, and low self-esteem are implications of vulnerability factors for suicide ideation” and that “these findings suggest that even in the context of depression and hopelessness, low self-esteem may add to the risk for suicide ideation.”

I say this to say, IT’S OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY! It’s okay to think ‘maybe I should find someone to talk to.’ Your friends won’t always have or know the right thing to say, and it’s not their fault. It’s not fair to put that type of pressure on your friends. You don’t know what they may be going through. I have a best friend who checks my mental state before we talk about his shit and I’m thankful for that because some days I’m like “not today, bruh.” I’ve learned to stop answering the phone when I don’t feel like talking. It’s hard giving others a feel better speech while you’re broken inside. So for my black and brown people, ain’t nothing wrong with going to therapy! If you’re going to try and get your shit together, you might as well talk to someone who doesn’t know you and won’t judge you. I’ve been through two therapists so far and I myself as a mental health professional do not like that “So how does that make you feel?” approach. Talk to me as if I’m your sister, let’s have a real conversation! This is why I love April Nichole because she honestly whipped my ass back into shape mentally. I haven’t signed up for one of her therapy sessions yet but I have listened to her podcast, “Nikkie’s Thoughts” and have gotten the READ of my life, LOL.

Love yourselves. Get out of your own way. Life isn’t a walk in the park. Hell, life is like a walk through Jurassic Park honestly but you can make it through. Just believe in yourself, be patient with yourself and trust the process!

Moore or Less …

KEEP YOUR FOOT ON THE NECK OF DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, OR WHATEVER THE WHOLE MOTHAFUCKIN’ WAY!!!

BeyonceMiddleFinger

10 years after high school and then some …

Let’s start off by saying that my high school graduation was trash. It rained and we had to cram God knows how many people into our gymnasium. Woodbridge High School is cursed, LOL. Graduation was bittersweet for me because soon after, I was on my way to Baltimore, Maryland to start precollege at Morgan State University. I entered college undecided in my major because I had no idea what I was good at or who I was as a person, to be honest. My goal then was to get into college … CHECK, now what? I thought I wanted to play basketball. I had played since I was young, made it on the Linden AAU team and then my high school freshman team just to be cut the next year. I’ll never forget damn near crying in the gymnasium with my best friend, who was also cut from the team. Being who we were though, we flipped our middle fingers and moved on.

Anyway, I started precollege and passed all my classes, of course. I had made friends and created an image for myself as the light skin girl from Jersey with long nails and every pair of Jordans (My collection of J’s back then was serious since I was a Foot Locker employee, LOL). In the midst of precollege, your girl had her first love and her first REAL heartbreak. Not the 13 year old me crying and singing Amanda Perez’s “God Send Me an Angel” heartbreak but Bernadine from Waiting To Exhale heartbreak. I had been cheated on and everyone knew about it but me. Now, if the motherfucker had a car for me to burn his clothes in, I would have! Instead, I flipped my middle finger up (I do this often in life) and carried my prideful, brokenhearted ass back to Baltimore to finish what I started. Needless to say, I continued being on and off with this man for a few more years after this incident only to continue having my heart broken time and time again. A good eggplant and love will make you do some dumb shit. Eventually, I learned that a tiger never changes its stripes and moved on. I still had my share of shitty ass relationships afterwards because loving yourself and learning your worth was no overnight process. To this day, I still have some insecurities but in no way shape or form is your girl ugly. I have a FUPA but it’s meant to keep your forehead warm, papi! My goal from high school changed from “Lose weight Shay because they like skinny bitches” to “Love yourself as you are, just live a healthier lifestyle.” I used to have this uncanny fear of rejection because a girl like me ran the Welcome Committee for the friend zone, LOL. Eventually, I let that rejection nonsense go and began to flourish. I mean, at the end of the day, there are those out there who will think I’m ugly (and I could give a shit) while there are others who would like to eat my ass with a napkin tucked in their collar (shrugs). With that being said, DO YOU AND BE YOU BOO BOO because SOMEBODY’S GONNA FUCKING FEEL IT!

As for my friendships/sister circles go, I’m STILL running with the same crew from high school and college. I’ve made friends along these ten years who I now consider family. I’ve also let go of some friends as well. Since high school, I’ve learned that a friendship can be just as toxic and draining as a relationship. Instead of holding on to memories and longevity, I’ve let go and walked away with my lesson. Loving people from a distance is essential to keeping your peace. It’s a self care act that I practice heavily now as someone who’s used to be selfless. Recently, one of my best friends called me, “the strong friend,” but I realized I can’t be the strong friend if I’m not being strong for myself …

From high school to 10 years later to now, I can say I was young, naive, and dumb.I am still young and still dumb, on occasion but the Shayna I am now has a better outlook on life and knows exactly what she wants. I’ll be turning 30 on next Wednesday and you couldn’t tell high school me that I wasn’t going to be somebody’s wife and have two kids by now, LOL. Instead, I’m welcoming Chapter 30 with a different set of goals and a different mindset. Like I said in a recent IG post, “I do not apologize for how I’m about to move” because at the end of the day, who gone check me?

I’m a Lover, not a Fighter …

Who were you before they broke your heart? Do you remember? I think I was less tainted … my perspective of love being what I thought I saw in the movies. You couldn’t tell me I wasn’t going to have a love like Monica and Quincy. (This was back when I played basketball, now I look at that movie as a crock of SugarHoneyIcedTea.) Then there was Martin and Gina … other than being obsessed with the show, I LOVEDDD their relationship and swore I was going to be in love and have a relationship like that, until …

Read Moore