Unconventional Beauty

Self-expression with peace.

[shesoabstract]

Show Yourself

I been anxious as f##k lately, but I am going to take this moment of clarity to use my pen and fight back.

I’ve been singing my whole life, like seriously, I can’t even remember a day when I didn’t have song.  But somewhere down the line I turned the volume down and quieted my song.  I can’t remember exactly when I started to feel not good enough, but I was young. It could’ve been when my own blood told me at the age of 10 that I was “black and poor” or when I got teased for not having named brand shoes, or when I got ridiculed for coming to school dirty. I wanted to use my voice to tell my story.  I was happy to have shoes even if they were falling apart, and I would’ve crawled on my hands and knees to school if I had to, even if I had to come dirty because that was once the only place I was getting stable meals. I just shut myself down and kept my song inside feeling that my voice couldn’t go beyond what was outside. Like every other kid I wanted to have friends so I just used whatever light I could muster up to put it behind others because I just didn’t feel like I was worth the effort.  Eventually this led to a pattern where I would coach myself not to appear too smart, too outgoing, too good. And it wrecked my creative life. I even pulled off two degrees in the process. 

While I never gave up on singing, I did disguise my true passion for it.  And it hurt. I would stop and start, and start again and just end up in this crazy mind pretzel. I had to get real with myself, shit wasn’t sticking because I wasn’t being true to who I was. Nothing that I did made sense because I wasn’t being true to who I was, everything I said fell flat because I wasn’t being true, every step I took went nowhere because I was depriving myself. I was mad about people not showing up for me, I was still holding on to some things from the past, and then it  clicked.  I don’t want to be the sacrifice for others, anything I want out of life I will get, even if it’s not in the time span I want. If my plans fail I cannot blame anyone but myself because I am responsible for me.

I say that to say this. Recently, I started with another voice teacher and taking sight singing lessons. I rehearse every day (singing,vocalizing, diction) and i’m proud of myself.

One of the things I love about myself is that no matter how hard things get I never give up, I may have to put it down for a while, do a self-assessment, then go back to the drawing board with a fresh plan, but I never give up.

So often we get caught up in showing others love that we forget to give some to ourselves.

Save some for you, show yourself some love

Congratulate you for your small victories.

[shesoabstract]

Nevertheless she persisted...

loI was embarrassed. I wasn’t ready to admit that I didn’t finish my Master’s degree in 2013, and I had one more credit to go.

Majority of my life had gone toward academia. From tutoring, to editing papers, to being a peer mentor, I was very good at helping people, but I wasn’t really to admit or say that I needed help.

I had always wanted to go to Virginia Tech for grad school, but when I was nearing the final step, my mind was spinning the fuck out, and to be quite honest, I was muhf___kn tired of school.

Not that the work was too hard, or that my schedule was over-demanding, I was just over it.

During my undergrad years at NSU, I had lived a pretty tight existence-choir, honors college, library, church. I did indulge in an occasional party and had some drinks every now and again, but for the most part that was my daily life. I thought that playing it “safe” was best for me, but in reality I didn’t trust myself, I didn’t trust myself to get the job done I was afraid to have too much fun. For 10 months out of the year I had a bed, hot water, good food- and I was not about to do anything to mess that up.

Virginia Tech though.....

When I first arrived there, I didn’t really know anyone other than a few undergrads from my area, and I was hella nervous. I didn’t know if I was going to sink or float during my first semester, and I was bugggggiiiinnnn. I went from being at a small university with the same friends-some of us had been in the same schools since Kindergarten- to being at a school with 30,000+ on the southwestern edge of VA. I was truly a fish out of water, and it put me all the way out of comfort zone, but it was necessary.

You’re probably thinking that I am going to type some deep message about having an epiphany, but i’m not. I just looked around at everyone who was having fun and I decided to join in. I was going to every party, consumed more libations than I can remember, and lived my best life. I was feeling helllllllaaaa free, and I still completed my coursework with a 3.5.

I did have a thesis in mind, but I knew in my heart it was trash, so I decided to scrap it, walk, and I told myself that I would come back in December 2013 to finish. Life didn’t happen that way. I decided that I was going to go to DC

I took an internship in Northern, VA that I wasn’t really fond of, but it paid well, so I was cool, except for the fact that I was commuting from my cuzzo’s house in Baltimore County to Northern, VA everyday...ouch...When that ended, I didn’t have anything lined up after so I spent just about two months looking for a job in the city and I found one. It was at the newly reopened Anthony Bowen YMCA, and it paid minimum wage. I also found a room in a house in Ward 4, for the low. Now I was cool with that because I had been in college before and I had a roommate, so it couldn’t be that bad right?...wrong. For the most part, my roommates were pretty awesome,  but that first one in 2013, I was about to beat her ass...but that’s another story for another time.

Minimum wage isn’t much to live off of anywhere, but especially not in DC. Paying for the train, bus and food, on minimum wage....you know a homie was scraping. There were days when I didn’t even have $1.50 to pay for my bus fare, but I took that 3-mile walk (or run) to work when I had to, and I was never late either. My diet pretty much consisted of whatever on sale canned goods I could get, and oodles-n-noodles, but I wasn’t tripping too hard, because my goal was to get to DC, and I did, no one said the road would be easy though.

Let me bring this back real quick. I finished undergrad with a 3.8, and grad with a 3.5, I did research at the U of Miami, and I was the president of the Honors College. I never would have thought that my life would be like this after I had poured so much into my academic studies, but what i’m really saying is this: You have no idea where life will take you, you may think you have a solid plan, but life can switch up at any millisecond, just open your soul to what life is trying to teach you because there is a lesson in everything.

Through it all, I was still writing my paper and convincing myself that I was going to back and finish grad school, but I just got a taste of life without school, and I kind of liked it. Being in DC I was around so many people doing so many different things, traveling stories, foreign languages, I was inspired.

I decided to apply for a Fulbright ETA in Tajikistan, and i was nominated, didn’t get it though, so I decided to give China a try, and that was some wild shit right there. After, I came back stateside, I got hired back at my previous job at the Y, and I didn’t have a solid place to stay, but my homegirl let me sleep on her floor, and my church sis let me crash at her place for a week. I wound up getting hired with another Y association making way more that I was, but I still wasn’t satisfied because I knew I had to finish what I started. 

Fast forward to Fall 2017 and I don’t know what came over me, but something in the atmosphere told me it was time. I knew that if I didn’t finish this school year, then I just wasn’t. I ain’t the for that though. I may move at a snail’s pace, I pick things up and put them down, but i’ve never been a lay down/give up type...tuh. So for the 5th time I reapplied, and put a committee together, and got readmitted for the Spring 2018 semester. On Tuesday, Feb. 6, 2018, I defended and passed my major paper defense, and earlier this month I went back to VT to participate in Spring 2018 commencement.  And for real I just have to say thanks to everyone who helped me along the way.

Saul N’Jie, Chris Price, Danette Beane, BSO VT, Kevin, Teesha, Maya, Kayla, Brooklyn Sha, John Wesley AME Zion Church, 15th St Presbyterian Church, Dr. Wiseman, Ms. Theresa, Clarence, Salone Clary, Juic--aaayyy lol....and so many more.

I must say that i’m feeling and doing better these days, but i’m still out here working and figuring things out like everyone else. 

....she cried, she prayed, she fought, she crawled.....nevertheless she persisted

This grad cap is dedicated to my namesake, my Grandmother Catherine Virginia Hinton (top) and my Great Aunt (Grandfather’s Sister) Mary Louise Hinton-Davis aka Mary Lou (bottom)...on the shoulders of giants

 ...fin

[shesoabstract]

Wild Thoughts

Things that just be on my brain sometime….

Sometimes I over eat because my mind still goes back to the days when I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from.

I’ve been feeling funny about relationships ever since my ex laughed at me.

I’ver  recently started reading books again, after going straight through school from Kindergarten to grad, my love for leisure reading died a bit, but it’s coming back to life. :)

Everyday, I look at random Black men and wonder if one of them could be my father. I know i’m not the only one, but I still feel inadequate at times because I never had a dad, kinda wanna do the Ancestry thing, kinda scared..

When I think of the goodness of Jesus and all that he’s done for me, I burst out crying sometimes.

I’m still very self-conscious about my skin issues, but not as much as I used to be.

Cardboard boxes and large Sterilite containers make me uncomfortable, I used to move around a lot, and i’d be afraid to unpack my stuff because I never knew when i’d have to move again.

My confidence has been blooming lately, and I feel a bit crazy about it.

I wasn’t sure if I should write this, but I don’t want to hold myself back anymore.

People used to tease me to the point where I didn’t even feel like I was worth self-effort…tuh

I just started to fully embrace all of the gifts that God has given me, and i’m much happier now.

I am still growing as a woman, as a person, as….like everything…shotout to C. Alicia for that FB status.

[jehovahhthickness]

Shout out to the weird lonely black kids who have little to no friends.

Love y'all stay strong.

[jehovahhthickness]

And …. Shout out to the weird lonely black adults who have little to no friends.

Love y'all

stay strong

[shesoabstract]

🌻

[shesoabstract]

Walking Before You Crawl

Pre-thought:

I start and stop you know, worrying about whether or not the words will come together, or if it will flow right or whatever. Then I usually stop myself, but yeah not now. A 1,000 mile journey begins with a single step, and this isn’t my first step, but it’s another step on the journey. Reflect.

When you think of the typical stages of developmyent it probably goes something like this: you role a little bit, you crawl, you walk and then you may even start to run. But, have you ever thought about what it would be like if one of those stages happened out of order, but you still had to go back and learn the other?...alone 

Crazy, right? Well that’s exactly how I view many situations i’ve endured. Like all the times when I needed a hug, or a hand to hold, that I didn’t get, instead I had to “suck it up, and push through” and while “staying strong” has gotten me through a lot of things, I would be lying if I said that being vulnerable isn’t something that I struggle with. Think of it like, I built a house, it’s beautiful, and the foundation is strong, but I never learned how to draw a blueprint.

Or when I felt like my life was at a standstill, and I wasn’t sure if I could go on, I wanted fo someone to tell me that everything was going to be ok, but a lot of the time I would put my hands up in the air so I could feel something. The wind flowing through my fingertips was my high-five to God and further confirmation that although I could not see God physically I could feel God moving, and God could move me.

I guess what i’m really saying here is, life may happen out of order, and it doesn’t always go the way you think, but don’t be afraid to go back and work on yourself in some areas.

 I couldn’t engage in healthy communication for a long time, wasn’t much of a yeller (...if you push me FAR ENOUGH!!!), but my go to reaction to everything anger, sadness, excitement, was to shut down. I felt like no one would hear me for real, so I just held it all in, and the longer I held it, the uglier it was when it came out.

I, like many others, was always told to stay in a child’s place and just about every attempt I made to express myself was met with: “who do you think you are?” “You ain’t cute” “I’m not one of your little friends” “being fast”....etc. (you know the usual sayings). Instead of those things putting me in the “child’s place” I supposedly needed to always be in, they put me in a place where no child, and no person should ever have to be, in a dark, low place of having low self-esteem, fear of speaking up, insecurity and doubt. 

Just about the only time I received any sort of praise, was when I came home with a good report card.  So that became my thing, school. But I had to go back and re-learn (and I am still in the process) myself. I’ve had to learn how to become comfortable with the gifts God gave me, the art of self-care, and not feeling guilty about my journey. 

Say what you want, but everyone needs someone in their corner to push them and help them become a better person.I may not have had that when I needed it the most, but that doesn’t mean I can’t grow from where I am (that goes for you too). Staying “strong” has gotten me through a lot, but I’ve had to go back and learn how to show gratitude, forgiveness, and compassion to those situations and people that made me who I am, even when it made me uncomfortable. 

Don’t ever be afraid to get to know yourself again, you’re more beautiful than you know.

[shesoabstract]

In Praise of Lil Kim

Kimberly Denise Jones “is too sexual, her lyrics are too raunchy, she could be never be a positive image for young girls.” WRONG!

I remember the first time I saw Lil Kim on TV, I was about 7 or 8, and it was the “Crush on You” video. Most people remember that video for the lyrics and the outfits only Lil Kim herself could wear, but I saw something different, I was completely floored by this woman before me.

She was breaking every rule they said a “lady” had to follow...”don’t wear this, your skirt has to be this length, your dress can’t be too tight...” and I loved it!

She created her own set of rules to play by and I loved her for it (still do), so Lil Kim I just want to thank you.

Thank you for being a dynamic woman, unafraid to step out of the box .

Thank you for being a true trendsetter for women, in hip-hop, fashion, artists, etc.

Thank you for giving the world all of you in spite your personal struggles.

Now I can’t front and say I know every word to every Lil Kim song (because I don’t) but I won’t every forget the way I felt, and how my life changed when I first saw you....Thank you Kimberly Denise

Moral of the story: Someone, somewhere needs your gift to free them.

[shesoabstract]

10 : 28

It still feels new sometimes.

Friday, October 26, 2007, I got the call that my grandfather had died.  It was my first semester in university and I had a class at 9 or 9:30.  I was supposed to come back across the bridge to visit him the night before, but my ride fell through. I was already struggling to get used to uni life, and I had kinda been on my own for a while, but I was truly on my own now.

I didn’t really know what to do in that moment, but I just knew I couldn’t give up. I called my track coach, broke down, wiped away my tears and made it to class on time. I’m not really sure where I found the strength to keep pushing, but I did. 

What I didn’t realize though, at the time, is that I went into a state of distorted reality and depression when he passed. I just checked out, ignored my emotions, and pushed through because I was not about to fail, ever.  I went to his wake and sat in the hallway because I was in denial and couldn’t accept it. 

When I graduated from high school in June 2007, I was angry because he had to stay home, and wasn’t there physically, but it was because of him (mainly) that I was able to walk across that stage and into college in the first place. I reflected on all the times he had been there, and got mad all over again because he just wasn’t supposed to leave me. 

I remember being 4 and 5 years old and he would fix my lunch and put a hi-five cookie in it (i’m still looking for those btw), his countless lectures about the true meaning of the word nigga, checking my homework when my mom was working, introducing me to languages, books, music, etc., my teachers threatening to call him when I was cutting up,  and him constantly, constantly, C O N S T A N T L Y lecturing me about the dangers of the world.

My original plan was to go away for university, but he encouraged me to stay in the area because he didn’t want anything to happen where I wouldn’t be able to get home. And, NSU was such a powerful learning experience for me. 

I can’t say that i’m over it, and I haven’t gathered up enough courage to visit his grave since he was buried 10 years ago, but I thank him for holding on as long as he could to see me make it to college. And I also thank my grandmother, who was fighting for her life while I was being born, for refusing to leave this earth until she knew that I had arrived safely.

They may have left the earth physically, but I am so much like them it’s crazy.

The moral of the story is this: you may never know all of the battles fought for you to have what you have and to get where you are, somebody, somewhere fought long and hard to see you rise. 

This post is dedicated to my papa and nanna

William Cleveland Hinton 3/14/25-10/26/07 

Catherine Virginia Hinton 8/31/26-12/15/89

[shesoabstract]

Waiting to Exhale

I don’t write as often as I should…truth be told..it’s hard to find the words sometimes. And i’d usually dance about it or run through it anyway. But i’m pushing myself these days…so yeah

A few weekends ago I went to blerDCon (Black nerds, comic books, anime, convention,etc.) and for the first time in a long time I felt ok. 

For as long as I can remember I have had a passion for anime and Japanese cartoons (I don’t use the two interchangeably). I used to wake up at 5:30 & 6 AM every morning to watch Sailor Moon before school. My mom stayed taking me to video update and Blockbuster so I could get my movies! Hell, I even attempted to draw a few characters and write a few stories myself. Couldn’t draw one bit (still can’t), and my story lines were crazy but it was my escape and I wanted to protect it, but when my notebook would be found or snatched from me I felt vulnerable.

It wasn’t so much that others saw what was in my notebook that bothered me, it was the laughter and taunting that followed…that’s what made me shrink.

Then a decision was made…I thought that if I kept my ideas and interests all in my head then they were safe there, no one would know, I would fit in, and I wouldn’t be teased. As wrong as I was, at 8 years old that line of thinking made a lot of sense and it actually became a pattern for me as I got older.

I found myself constantly trying to shrink, hiding my thoughts afraid to walk in my purpose and talk about the things I truly loved. And that didn't make it any easier for me. I was still bullied and made fun of for everything from wearing glasses to not having name brand shoes, the way I talk...literally everything (aaaggghhh)

It wasn't until I moved to Washington DC after grad school that I began to reconnect in a sense. I started going to meet-ups and networking with people who shared my interests. I began pursuing music again, I was awarded a scholarship to study voice and I entered my first vocal competition. I didn't win but I can't tell you how much courage it took to even put myself out there like that. I had always talked about traveling but I was kind of discouraged because it fell through so many times before and I just didn't think I could ever make it happen, but I finally had enough of doubting myself and told fear to kiss my brown ass, and within 3 months of each other, I danced in the Bahamas and left to live in China.

Now I'm not saying that everything you do needs the approval of others, and there are times when you will have to go at it "alone," and you may not ever get the love and support that you really deserve, but taking a chance on yourself and reaching out to others can change your life. 

Going to blerDCon was one of the ways I reached out. Seeing so many cosplayers of color, hearing their stories, and realizing that there were so many young men and women who had a similar experience to mine made me feel at ease...truly at ease...I had been holding my breath, waiting for an event like this my whole life, and when I got there....finally, I exhaled.

QFTP:

"You can lay down for someone to walk over your back and they will still complain about you not being straight enough"

[shesoabstract]

there she is...

...and suddenly she cried out in a language I couldn’t understand

Who are you? I asked.

i am you, the deepest part of you

You are me?

i need to breathe

You are me?

i need you to give life to me 

and suddenly she cried out in a tongue I couldn’t understand...

Who are you? I asked

i am you, she replied

You are me?

the realest part of you

You are me?

the real you

and just like that I saw a new reflection in the mirror

.hi .i’ve been waiting for you

[shesoabstract]

By Faith, Not Sight...How the Ridicule of Stephen Curry’s 30 Sneaker Made Me Look at the Bigger Picture

{{***Disclaimer: To be honest, I suck at playing basketball. I love to watch it and I get excited...yeah. I’m actually pretty good with stats on the low, but whatever, I just know I love OKC***}} 

Stephen Curry has been heavy in the media,for quite some time. Whether its a story about his undeniable talent, or him being outright unashamed of his faith, that man is everywhere. You see, he recently released a new sneaker, but it wasn’t the sneaker itself that got my attention, it was the ridicule of them that turned my head.

By now, I know you’ve seen all of the memes, comments, and tweets about the shoes, “The You Will Hear From My Lawyer 9′s”, “The Official Life Alert Sneaker,” and that hilarious Jimmy Kimmel ad...maaaan. From the reviews I read, they’re actually a very decent sneaker, but because they didn’t fit into the “typical” category of what a presentable sneaker ought to look like no one really bothered to talk about that, only the outside appearance. And it made me think like how many times does that happen in real life?

Like in every day situations…

You know like when you try to do better, and you actually do, no one talks about the progress you made, only the person you were before.

Or how sometimes when you don’t fit into the mold society says you should be in, you’re automatically a deviant, some sort of tragedy

When you don’t agree or subscribe to someone’s respectability politics, no disrespect, forget it, when you’re not part of the groupthink…let the character assassination begin

When you had to get yours straight up out of the mud, never mind that you actually got yours, people only see the mud on your clothes, but not what you to go through

When you always say yes, but then the one time you say no, you never said yes before right….

When you always support other people, but then when you make the decision to stay true to yourself and put yourself first, you’re a f**k n***a or a w**k b*tch

I could go on forever.

 I used to be so worried about these things, but it wasn’t until I got older and started travelling more that I realized no matter who you are, how you feel, or what you believe, there will always be someone, somewhere willing, scared of themselves, disappointed in themselves, and unsatisfied with themselves ready to criticize you.

 That’s why I love Stephen Curry’s sneaker, because even though his sneaker was crucified in social media court (modern day law) he still believes his shoe is straight fire. And that’s how you have to be in life, people are only going to see what they want to see from their limited perspective…but understand this, most people are only concerned with surface because they lack the maturity to understand what’s beneath.

 So you…stay straight fire...keep the faith in your purpose and journey, and know that some will only speak on what little they “think” can see (ha…isn’t for about them anyway)

 2 Corinthians 5:7 “For we walk by faith, not by sight”

-this here is me. snacks. I love snacks. I wrote this :)

[batgirleatyourheartout]

Slob on my knob.Like corn on the cob. Check in with me, And do your job.

*bass drops!*

[longlivefise]

Ertime

[darkmatters-world]

[shesoabstract]

yes

[shesoabstract]

Welcome-Haiku

I came out of myself-

but more into myself

I am here now.

[shesoabstract]

Girls with fathers...

I’ll never know what it’s like to be one of them and i’m not bitter about it, but that’s just what it is.

Growing up I kind of developed a sort of mythical thinking about fathers, I would sit and ask myself questions like what do they do? What do they eat? Did I really have one? Are they nice? Would a father care about me? Would they take me on a walk? Like, I would seriously think about these things. 

I sat and listened to girls gushing about their father-daughter dates, and watch their faces light up as they said “my daddy is coming to get me from school,” I would literally sit and hang on to every detail shared and watch everyday as my schoolmates skipped out of the doors to link hands and go home with their father. All I could do was fantasize about something like that happening for me.

Because I have never seen the face of the man who made me, I just had to think it up.  I looked at my mom and whatever features we didn’t share I automatically attributed them to him.  And it made me feel better knowing that even if I never got to see his face I could make one up in my head. So this is what he looks like, dark brown skin, 5′10″-6′, athletic build, high cheek bones, is musically inclined. and he’s not mean but has an aggressive nature (maybe that’s where I get it from). Still no matter how hard I tried to fill in the details. unless I could see his face then I could not see his face.

So I have heard a few stories about how I came into this thing called life, but only from one side. I would walk around looking into the faces of different Black men comparing them to the image I created in my head, trying to figure out if they had similar features or if they could possibly be my father. Crazy, I know but with no explanation or reason as to why he wasn’t around that was the best I could do for myself.

I never really thought not having a father in my life made me unique or different, because for every 10 girls that actually knew, talked about, had a relationship with, and lived with their father, there were 100 more like me, girls who knew nothing.  Like I said i never thought not having a father around made me special, I thought it was quite normal actually, so when girls talked about their fathers  I found it strange because that was something I would never be able to identify with in real life (only in my head). That was until a few years back when a friend tweeted “girls with fathers >,” and it made me think of the why and how are they greater than me.

I asked myself questions like: are they better girlfriends? Are they more nurturing? Are they more caring? helpful? prettier?...what? how? I just don’t understand.

To be honest i’m not really sure how not having a father has affected me because I don’t have anything else to compare it to, but what I don’t want is for a situation that I had no control over to be counted against me.

I just might be a bit guarded, and my father may only remain a fantasy (a girl can dream right), so what if i’m not like the “girls with fathers >”, know that i’m doing the best I can with something I never had, don’t shut me out.

dear dad, 

     I’m still that little girl hoping that you will come to pick me up from school one day

-kitty

[marsmisses]

Sex with no passion sucks… Kissing with no passion sucks… Conversations with no passion sucks… Life with no passion sucks…

[throughkaleidscopeeyes]

OMG I feel this

[shesoabstract]

On Toya Wright’s “How to Lose a Husband.”

How to Lose a Husband by Toya Wright

 I know the title may be daunting for some, but trust me it’s so much more than that.

This book follows the lives of 6 different women (British, Sade, Madison, Kennedi, Paris, Lola), who are friends, as they navigate through their careers, love, and relationships.

 I was going to save this part for last but I must say it first. The thing I loved the most about this book is that although these women were vastly different from each other they still maintained their bond, and they never let their differences separate them. That’s powerful! Not trying to say that you have to be down for every single person all the time, but this story definitely demonstrates how necessary it is to have some sister-friends on deck at all times (VITAL!)

 So let’s take a look at the characters:

 You have the story outline being introduced by Lola, we’ll get to her later though.

 First up we have British.  British is the character that is still trying to find her way in the world, but the problem is that she is wrapped up in her relationship with popular rapper Stacks who is already married.  For me this character hit home because just as I read about British losing herself and becoming so wrapped up in her relationship that her career falls behind, I can’t help but think of how many women are actually in situations like this. Dealing with men who are unavailable will leave you drained, out of control, and vulnerable and that is exactly what we see happening with British. However, she did get what was coming to her when Stacks wife showed up and went upside her head. Karma don’t play!

 Next is Sade, Sade is an up and coming actress trying to make a name for herself without relying so much on her father’s name to get her in. This chapter takes us through some of her failed relationships until she meets her husband Doc who is everything that a woman could ever want: SUPPORTIVE, humble, paid..etc. .He never once tried to prevent his wife from pursuing her dreams even if it meant her being away from home. And, he never questioned anything until the wife of the man his wife had been sleeping with invited hikm to a divorce celebration dinner and presented him with pictures of his wife and her husband on getaways all around the world. I have to hand it to him though because he left in the classiest fashion, packed his bags, left the pictures and bye. Sade’s character displays the selfish side of women, wanting a man who is everything, getting it, and then still having to have something on the side. You chicks like that make me the sickest, great men are hard to come by, and she had her cake and was eating too but not for long.

 Then there’s Madison. Madison worked her way up the legal ranks becoming a prestigious attorney in Fulton County. Her husband Robert, once a prominent figure in the music industry, found his career in shambles once his ex-girlfriend released a tell all book detailing their relationship. Madison advised him not to go public and defend himself because in her mind it would all blow over. However, Robert wanted to go forth and defend himself, with his wife beside him, supporting him through it all, but she was working her way up the career ladder and didn’t want her husband’s “temporary” troubles to ruin everything she had worked so hard for. Hmmm so this poses an important question…to ride or not to ride? Should she have at least appeared in public with her man as he defended himself? Should she have spoken on his behalf? Read and find out for yourself.

  Kennedi, one of the greatest musicians of her time, met and married prominent film producer Ty Woodley. He had all the trappings money, power, connections, and stability, however, he just wanted one thing from her, for her to drop everything and focus solely on him.  She even invited other women into their bedroom hoping that if she gave him something he wanted, he would give her something she wanted. After, that plan failed, she still had to sneak and record. She was successful in getting her music out, until her husband caught wind of it and actually paid radio stations to stop playing it, to make matters worse, he even started having a relationship with one of the women she brought in. Even so, he still tried to make her choose between her career and him.

 Ms. Paris, hunny! OOOOOO tea! Paris was one of the top hair stylist in Atlanta, who met, fell in love married, and had a child with Trey who was a sports agent.  They had a wonderful life together, nice house, bills paid except for one thing. Paris was suspicious of Trey demanding that their nanny be present at all times, and she thought…..can’t tell you anything else ….read the book and catch this tea.

 Last but not least, there’s Lola, the one who has everything that they all are trying to get to, the husband, the kids, and the lifestyle. However, her closet didn’t come without a few skeletons in it either. She was always the one giving advice, telling her girls (especially Kennedy) what they ought to do, and when in spite of the fact that she too had an extramarital affair, but she wised up and took her happy hips right on home.

 I can’t stress enough how beautiful it was seeing these women support one another through everything and never letting their differences stop them from being there for another. This was a great read and I can’t wait to see what happens next. Hopefully, British gets a spin-of!.

[shesoabstract]

The Realest Words Ever Spoken

"...I thought you loved me, you was my baby, my fucking cinnamon apple, my rose"