The Blank Paige

a lifestyle blog. for the culture.

[the-----paige]

Not being able to be loving after abuse is genuinely ruining that aspect in my life for me. It made me meticulously controlling but it’s gotten worse over the last year.

Confidently I said last year that I wasn’t looking to be in a romantic space after deployment was cute but I’ve been back over 6 months now. I’m not sure that I feel comfortable speaking w a therapist about it will help. I’m scared the PTSD will come back but does it have to so that I can fix the problem?

Who knows but it’s weighing heavy today. The last couple months have been odd for me. Being harassed by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer was scary. Almost losing someone like a sister to sewer slide left me breathless. I feel like I’ve just been coexisting with the rest of the world.

What’s equally confusing is having spent time with a man who I dated years ago and things going so smooth, I feel like I was being punked. Not to say he’s horrible, we were not the nicest to each other from ‘20-21.

GC convos like the one I had today really got me thinking. I’ve never liked being vulnerable or the center of attention prior to all of this but it’s crippling now. I didn’t wanna share what was going on w dude being a weirdo w who I did because I knew he’d come running (the middle of the night call said enough and made me feel for him more). That’s admirable and what someone does when they care for you. Whatever, that’s a lost cause that I don’t want to get into.

I felt like I was trending better but that shit shut me down. I’ve generally felt like I could say no and not worry about anything else but I guess it’s different when you have to see someone everyday. It put something else in perspective, you can’t change ppl’s minds. Acceptance has to be a thing and respected.

My clothing was talked about yet again but not in a way to tear me down but it managed to make me conscious about what I put on. There’s nothing I can do to hide my body, not that I want to but I also need to not be catcalled all damn day, in a safe space.

Maybe that’s why I’m so triggered about it all. I feel like it’s nothing I can do to undo them either. Idk, I’m rambling mainly because I’m tired.

And you know, work is work of course. More asinine reactions that will only exacerbate the real issue at hand. I’ve also felt less impactful with my role because it helps the greater good and not me fully. There’s no balance and it’s too routine. They said I was spoiled in my last role but in actuality, it made me well rounded. The weekends go by too fast.

I don’t want to seem like I’m complaining because I’m blessed beyond measure but I would like to have a genuine friendship w a man and feel safe around him outside of what I have with the two I’ve never had cross the line. I would like to feel safe enough to truly fall in love again, I miss being a lover girl. I would like to enjoy my job again.

[the-----paige]

Michelle Branch really ate down with Breathe

“If I just breathe, let it feel the space between. I’ll know, everything is alright.”

Being back and assimilating back into a routine has been awkward. It’s creeping up on 3 months and things I thought I wanted, I want no parts.

I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for the shoe to drop and have something consume my time like it did a year prior.

There’s nothing coming so I’ve had to fill my time. I have a gym membership and have classes I attend. I’m realizing I can make long term plans and not think about deploying in the immediate future.

I’ve struggled with accepting whether or not the deployment was real or not. Weird as it may seem, it feels like I dreamt it. It also feels like a void in time. Like I was in a comatose state or something. I’ve tried to find ways to make it feel more real. I’ve re arranged my room (they say you mean business when you do that).

All of this shit is heinously weird. Mainly because the previous year’s events feel like they just transpired. Or is it made up? Who the fuck knows at this point.

I feel more awkward interacting with new ppl. Idk, I feel off and I do things to ensure I understand that I have nothing on the books but when you spend almost 2 years preparing to be absent, being present feels illegal.

[the-----paige]

Q4

2022 took more from me than I cared to admit at the time and I was letting 2023 do the same. 

I questioned a lot of what transpired. 

It was unfair that I lost ppl I loved, I had a relationship be completely destroyed for protecting my peace, I had ppl switch up on me. Like WHY?!

As a result, I wasn’t always the nicest to those who had my best interests at heart. Or I didn’t let new ppl get close to me. I turned into a robot just to pass the time. 

Then the biggest stain was being deployed, so I thought. Probably the only time I was truly gracious to myself. I viewed it as punishment since I was away from everyone I loved again. 

The reality is that it was a full reset. What better way to collect yourself than to be around ppl you hardly know? A whole blessing within itself because they don’t have a baseline to judge you by. 

The result of that is a lot of self reflection and self care. Pinpointing when things changed and why they did. Accepting the new reality that was created as a result and reverting back to what worked best before all of the chaos. 

Admittedly, I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing half the time, especially considering I didn’t have T Dawg to gameplan with. Something that rang true that he said way back in January, “no matter what happens, you’ll be better than you were 6 months prior.” 

Per usual, he was right. 2023 avenged 2022. Anything I felt like was out of reach then is in the palm of my hand now. The things I faced with fear then I face with confidence now. The things I thought I was ready for then, I’m actually ready for now. 

Funny how time works and how you have to be shown what will be yours before you’re prepared for it. I’m eternally grateful for the experience and can’t wait to apply the lessons. 🩵

[the-----paige]

nothing like pen to paper sometimes.

[the-----paige]

grief is a final act of love but yet, it can be so painful. it makes you call into question if it is unconditional love as described in the bible but that’s a different story.

just a little over a month ago, i was receiving a myriad of messages all with the same tune, “be strong for micah.” all i wanted then was to hop back on a plane to japan or hide at minimum. he wasn’t all i had to be strong for and because i subscribe to beyoncé’s ideology of “you have 24 hours to feel”, i felt and cried for hours on end the night of the news.

i had and have one lingering question: who is gonna be strong for me?

in that point in my adult life, i had never felt so alone because i knew my other friends weren’t being spammed with messages like i was. i had become the unofficial and uncompensated spokesperson for micah and i was bothered. “oh micah didn’t text me back” what the fuck was texting me gonna do? it wouldn’t change what took place or remedy the situation at the moment.

the last thing i wanted to do was be strong especially considering i had my own shit going on with my dad just days prior. i wanted to coast thru the rest of my time home and follow our routine where i’m on the aux and micah’s playing the game. all i wanted was peace.

i’m not angry about what happened, things happen beyond our understanding. i was angry about the lack of space i requested on micah’s behalf AND one off messages about not seeing me. now that i’m in less of a fog and can recall what took place, im airing my grievances cause some of y’all showed y’all asses.

obviously had the reverent not died, y’all would have seen me. very fucking obviously. i don’t feel it necessary to explain that point but for the sake of not addressing it again, read carefully.

ignoring my demand for y’all to give micah space and still reaching out to him when i asked SEVERAL of you to give him space is so disrespectful. how many times does that need to be said?

micah is my best friend, i am not his secretary, i was not relaying messages just because a message was directed to me. if anyone would like to compensate me for the job they employed me for, i will drop my cash app or you can purchase my upcoming drop.

to those who respected the wish i asked, y’all are amazing ppl. continue to be gracious pls.

finally, i am admitting that do not want to be strong, i want to fall apart and i would like to be afforded the opportunity to do so. though he was not my father, the reverent was very special to me. i think of all of my failed pleas to make banana pudding, the oven discussion, the head pats as result of the pleas and his interactions with micah. i remember him holding my godson and bonding with him and looking forward to him bonding with my children in the future. i think bout how he always knew that he could cook but asking for chelsea’s and i’s opinion on the update he made to the pound cake in the summer.

i take death harder than i ever have, mainly because i know that when i left, the ppl i lost were still here. there’s guilt associated with being away because you don’t have but a few moments that you get with those you love and care about. it’s part of the reason i come home and idc if i sit on a damn couch all day, being present means more than being away. and i know for a fact, the reverent passing is hitting the hardest. not just because i saw him prior to, but because i am so close to my end of service and knowing that the routine i missed would soon return.

instead of questioning why you didn’t see me or if you’ll see me when i return, just send me good energy. if it is meant for us to link, we will. all that i want more than ever is to be surrounded by my friends, i feel like we’ve lost so much time that all my true intentions are to be with them as much as i can.

[the-----paige]

This may be one of the hardest things i’ve written as of late but here we go.

the first time i heard you preach was january 2013. chane’l said we were going to micah’s church. i don’t remember the topic but, i was nervous because some pastors be up there for show. you opened your mouth and i was immediately at ease, you sounded just like pastor jennings. you were there for your flock and that was alright with me.

eventually, the mornings i would oversleep to go to gebc, i’d bust the corner to HOP. then, the mornings that i’d make it to grace, i’d roll over to HOP after. little did i know, you and pastor jennings were great friends, as he says. somehow, he found out i had been there with you and he fussed at me.

you never said much more than micah or brandon’s names and whew it used to scare me. you did always greet me with a goofy grin so i knew that was enough for me. but the older i got and the more i understood, it’s best to make your words count. that’s what you always did.

i never said it but i had always loved how you were with micah, he was the light of your eyes and it was evident. sometimes, you’d come in the basement and just look at him, smile and go back upstairs and give us a “yessuh”.

seeing you and mike interact put a smile on my face.

to you, nothing mattered more than providing for your family, your church family and friends. i loved that the most, you were never big headed about your title as pastor. it would crack me up seeing you sunday sharp in your 3 piece suits at the church but as soon as you got to the house, those scrubs were on instantly. a man after my heart, you were president of the cozy club.

this hurts as deeply as when my granny died, i can’t wrap my head around knowing that when i’m back in april, you won’t be in your chair playing that game 🥺. i’ll never hear micah answer the phone as “good evening boarding company.” i can say that i knew you were happy that micah was back, the house was filled with the vibrations of his sub woofer, the laughter and shenanigans of his friends and most importantly, you got to bless us more often and give us a “help em Lord!”

i’m thankful for you and the life and love you gave, thank you for opening your home to the gang and we will make sure your legacy lives on. love you much, reverent and i’ll see you later. 💙🕊

[the-----paige]

Acceptance is the first step right?

The first time it happened, he was with his friends and we had been texting sporadically throughout the night. At some point, he called me. He was white girl wasted and said some really off the wall things, “You need me, you’re lucky to have me, you piss me off so bad sometimes that I don’t know why I’m with you.” Me being half awake, I didn’t register what was actually happening until he said “if you hang up, we’re done. I’ll hang up the phone when I’m done.” I waited until he was done and hung up and I let a couple tears drop. The next morning, I didn’t text first, I let him reach out and he had no recollection of what took place. He apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again. But it became a repeat, then whenever I upset him, he’d ignore me. Like the time he got besides himself because my best friend and godson came down to Lansing to Chipotle when it was supposed to be just us. He flipped out, my best friend apologized for “getting me in trouble” and that time, he ignored me for a week.

I didn’t see this as abuse because eventually, I began to go heads up with him. There was that time at the casino for our friend’s 21st when we ran into my cousin and she thought my friend who came to do brake work on my car was my boyfriend and not my ex. We traded insults for the rest of the night and made up after leaving.

I knew it wasn’t right but I also knew couples had disagreements but it was nasty. Sure there were sweet moments but most of the time towards the end, I was planning my exit. To be with someone almost everyday and then not was weird but it has taken me 2 years to accept the fact that the last romantic relationship I was in was verbally abusive. There were things he withheld from me when I wasn’t being a “good girl” or times when he would make plans without giving full details and being upset when I would go with my friends instead.

Of course you never think it could be you, I’m fiery, I always have a comeback or some smart remark but there were times I was silenced. I know this will be hard for my mom to read but she didn’t like him for the same reasons I ignored. I thought just because he wasn’t putting his hands on me, it wasn’t bad. Constantly being criticized makes you so uncomfortable with yourself that you’re almost unrecognizable. 

It took my pastor all of 5 minutes to determine and address what I had been avoiding for the past two years. My ex was verbally abusive. Such a short but difficult sentence to write. Here I sit, 2 years removed and a handful of failed attempts at dating and the message from those guys has all been the same, let it go. Letting go means having to name the issues so the right ones get discarded.

Sure we all come with baggage but I felt like mine was my own to unpack because I didn’t want to be a burden. I never thought I was completely unworthy of love, I was traumatized of being strung along by anyone who had good intentions because he started off super loving, intentional and all about me. 

Just yesterday, someone told me “Stop fucking running, dude.” It wasn’t the space to get into details because he kept asking for them. “Why you always running from something, every time I talk to you, you’re running. Stop.” 

This is me acknowledging that the trauma endured has affected my ability to form formidable bonds with men who show genuine interest. So it was easier to use the excuse of me being in the military, me being stationed abroad and being in a different timezone. Sometimes, I feel like I’m beating a dead horse by repeating it but before, I was saying it just to say it. There’s a difference now, I no longer want to be triggered by buying men’s clothes that I find cute for myself, I don’t want to shudder at the sight of a bald man or his name.  

[the-----paige]

I find myself a little over a year from leaving the Land of the Rising Sun. That also means that my military time is dwindling down to a close.

Saying i’m burnt out would be an understatement. Fighting for the opportunities to be heard and not to be forgotten is so exhausting. A lot of times, people don’t help with requests unless it’s on their terms. I don’t expect them to drop everything everytime, it would be nice if I could voice concerns and they be seriously taken into consideration.

At 2.5 years served, I cannot fathom how people put up with certain happenings. I am tired of hearing about how unfair it was to be sent to shore duty before going to a ship, especially because I had no say in that decision. I think that’s rooted in those who did go to a ship first, jealous of the fact that we’re treated like people on shore. Though opinions aren’t always heard, there’s still some decency there that isn’t found on a ship.

That in itself is mind blowing but it speaks to the institutionalization that people endure while serving. “I want you to be mistreated because I was.” Granted, most of the knowledge on my job is learned in a sea duty setting, we haven’t exactly been prepared to manage life on a ship, something I think is a setup.

I am appreciative of the status that comes with serving and the benefits that will pay out after my time is done, I have met really amazing people that I would have not come across otherwise without it. I know that fighting for a seat at the table won’t go away once I’m out, my concerns won’t go unheard because I don’t have enough chevrons or an anchor to back up my claim.

Everyday, I fight for myself and those around me. I ask people to consider scenarios that could be beneficial in the long run. Some people let a symbol be the reason it doesn’t go further, which speaks to the culture of the military as a whole. Some people join the military later in life with corporate experiences. Disrespecting that experience based solely off them lacking a bird and chevrons is asinine. Learning from each other is how we become better and the day you feel you can’t be told anything is a sad day.

Getting off tangent, my time in Japan has been bittersweet, largely due to this pandemmy. It sucks to have had choosy leadership navigating us thru these crazy times. It will forever blow my mind that they deemed going out and shopping in malls safer than getting beauty services, especially with how much cleaner salons tend to be. My other favorite, them telling us we cannot go see OUTDOOR illuminations during the holidays.

This pandemic has taught me that being in control of me solely and governing my choices is the best move going forward. Some days it has been a struggle to even want to get out of bed, knowing the day was gonna be the same as yesterday. No amount of money can put a price on happiness.

I know every season in life isn’t always rainbows and unicorns, though it has been tough, I reside in a place of gratefulness. The choice I made to join saved me from myself and misery. Considering that I am halfway thru this time, I look forward to the next season awaiting me.

[the-----paige]

6 months.

As I hover around just over 6 months in Japan, there’s a million thoughts running thru my mind..

I’ve felt the need to go against my current ideology of not planning shit out to obsessively needing to do so. I always said that after my military career wraps up, I’d return to my hometown but after a recent string of nonsense, I’m questioning that.

I don’t have that burning desire to return stateside after my time in Japan is up, Italy has been on my mind heavily.

The lack of intimacy of late has been driving me crazy. Which I’ve expressed but life is being quite the cockblock. I’ve had a safe space invaded and I’m doing damage control to the point where I don’t even wanna bother because the novelty of it has worn off.

I find myself frustrated, but there’s nothing that I can too much do. Oh and not to mention, the names I had picked out for children who do not exist yet didn’t go over well with my friends and that started a string of thoughts that I have no control over either.

I measure my life on a 12 month basis of whatever month I’m in. 12 months ago, I was at boot camp probably being yelled at with no real clue of where this adventure would take me next and because the military is the most unpredictable thing I’ve encountered, I don’t know what will come this day next year. To be honest, that drives me mad. I have always been one who had to settle into a steady routine with little to no change. There is some routine here but it changes so much that I never can get comfortable in it which is good but not always.

Every night before bed, I tell God what I desire, more than likely praying a prayer that’ll break my heart but I don’t know. Me not knowing what comes next is so enraging, like I need to know if the person I deal with is it for me, I need to know that if he in fact is, when we’ll be married and have kids and continue this adventure. I am completely over not knowing that I just don’t care almost.

What will be, will be is something I repeat in my head on a regular basis. I see Jeremiah 29:11 and I feel hopeless sometimes because that’s evidence that God is working on my behalf, I just don’t know what. It’s maddening and calming all at the same time.

My dreams have been all over the place and I’ve been completely restless. So all in all, I’m frustrated but I’ll be fine.

[the-----paige]

Breathe.

Let’s just say that the last year and a half of my life could rival most coming of age sitcoms of a single female in the early 2000s. I’ve dyed my hair twice, cut it twice, lost and gained weight, been fired from 2 jobs, lost who I thought would be my forever and joined the navy. Not all in that order but you get it. As I sit on the other side of all of that, I think about when I took the time to heal from what would have been a well scripted Shonda Rhimes episode. The long and short of it, I didn’t. I self medicated with terrible coping mechanisms and genuinely didn’t care about much.

One of the last conversations we had was a nasty argument about how I felt like I had to make a move. Before I rejoined, I told him that if the cards didn’t play out right, we would work on us more. I had to set that dynamic because honestly, men come and go. Money does too, but opportunities like the one I had do not. Life happened for him and he had an opportunity to move out of state, a fresh start if you will. Of course I was upset, but my feelings were dismissed because “it’s not like you gone be around here either”. Back to the conversation mentioned above, I had the fact that I had the opportunity to better myself thrown in my face though he had made the same move. Double standard like a mother fucker. I was willing to compromise and he was not. I was no longer in his long term plan though I included him in mine. My homegirl told me how utterly ridiculous I was being but I was beyond upset. I argued that if he felt that way the whole time about me joining, he should have said so then and not a month before I leave the country.

I don’t even talk about my personal life with the world because y’all messy, but I learned a long time ago, there's a lesson in pain. I had come to realize that break ups suck, there’s more I could go on about but I’d be talking forever. But I am saying all of that to say:

DO YOU. No one has your true and best interests at heart like you do, not even ya momma. That’s no disrespect, your mom could want her best for you and yours won’t always align with her.

Sulk, cry but know when to stop having pity parties for yourself. You have to move on, I’m no relationship expert but feeling bad for yourself ain’t gone help NAN after a while.

You are one heartbreak closer to your forever, whatever that may be. Once you stop crying and wipe ya face, your forever coulda been right there the whole time but you wanted to be dramatic.

Be firm in what you want. You have to be okay with the decisions you make because you have to live with them. Idc what ppl say, your choices do affect others but they have their own shit going on.

[the-----paige]

As I attempt to remember this beautiful love story, I forget how it starts. Something like you worked at the market in the neighborhood and would come by the house everyday, hoping to get the attention of my aunt. One day you did and the rest was history. 65 years of marital bliss, that’s something you just don’t touch these days. That woulda made you guys 18&19 I believe. To have met the love of your life then and to know is really something to be marveled at these days.

I think about our relationship, you were the man in my eyes growing up. Auntie always had the good popsicles and you let me play with your toy slot machines. I spent a lot of summer afternoons with you guys, I was so scared of your bear rug, I’d close my eyes every time I walked in your den. You’d tell me about all the trinkets and stuffed game you caught. I remember the two dogs, their names escape me at the moment but they scared me too. When my granny would drag me over for her boring meetings with her sisters, I’d come sit with you. Given all the good times we had together, I’m really struggling with the fact that the last time I saw you, you didn’t remember me. You looked right at me and smiled but didn’t recognize me. That’s when I realized how ugly Alzheimer’s is. My heart hurt in a way I didn’t understand and I cried the whole way home.

I’m even more upset with not being able to properly say goodbye to you. I find joy in knowing you are reunited with the love of your life and that gives me comfort. You have earned your rest Uncle Kenneth. ❤️

[the-----paige]

I’ve been meaning to come back to my blog for a while, I just never knew what I’d come back with and this tribute to the Queen of Soul seemed to be the best fit.

The embodiment of style and grace, you had a career that spanned many decades. I know in the black community, we refer to black celebrities as distant relatives but you truly felt like a member of the family. You reminded me so much of my aunts, from the hair styles, the way you dressed and the way you carried yourself.

When the announcement of you being gravely ill came out, people began to pray for your earthly recovery, if you will. I found that to be so unfair to you. You lived a full life, you deserved to take your rest, you fought long and hard. There was a sense of relief that came over me when I heard you took your rest, the legacy you left the world was immediately immortalized. You made the right business moves to ensure your family would be okay and in my eyes, that’s a true queen.

To that I say, thank you for being such a fearless and outspoken trailblazer. ❤️

[vash-the-stampede92]

Welp hate to not call a spade a spade 🙃🤷🏾‍♂️😎😂

[clarknokent]

Exactly, it’s plenty of black women that love nerdy guys and are nerds themselves. Gon somewhere with the lies.

[palansamusa-deactivated20211003]

Nah. False. It’s hard for us.

[hoekagei]

@keeaall If black women dont fuck with you, its you. Being a nerd or not has literally never stopped a black woman from dating a black man. If anything is hard for you that’s because of you but you’re using nerdiness as a crutch

[dynamic-desperado]

Yeah,some of y'all just treat black women like shit and they peep that. There are plenty of nerdy ass black girls who love nerdy black guys,it’s just easier to put down black women than do any sort of self reflection.

[mr-cashman]

if you not from the hood you don’t understand, or you’re just full of shit. that nerd shit gets you spat on. the girls will literally bully your nerd ass and think it’s cute. stop excusing that behavior. anytime someone is critical of the culture we live in y’all want to defend the shit. niggas have legit complaints, like women do, but the shit gets written off. all y’all selfish, and i’m not talking exclusively to women. mfs want to pander to black women’s opinions on tumblr but know they’ve been put down by that girl they was crushing on because they dressed a certain way, listened to certain music, or had particular hobbies. y’all full of shit. the problem is not just the guys, the girls play a pivotal role. maybe we all should do some self reflection. it only takes one person to shit on you hard enough that you become awkward and self conscious around the group they belong to. 

[hoekagei]

@mr-cashman get your head out your ass and wake the fuck up. If you was crushing on a girl and she didn’t like the music you like or hobbies or clothes you wear them guess what? She just didn’t fucking like you. Her liking you has nothing to die with the fact that she’s black. Do you really think black women are that easy? She might like J. Cole and Jordans. You think she fucking/talking to every nigga in Jordans that can recite a Cole verse? No. Y'all didn’t clique, accept it and move on. You think ever Hispanic, white, or Asian woman will is gonna fall at your feet? No because they might not what you like so you’re not gonna get anywhere with them. But I don’t hear anyone whining “(insert nonblack sec) girls don’t like… blah blah blah”? Why is that? Because black women are the only ones that get demonized for having a fucking preference and not letting every nigga with a heartbeat smash.

[theoriginalblackbarbie]

I am a black girl nerd and I had plenty of black girl nerd friends who wanted to date fellow black guy nerds who weren’t checking for them especially if they didn’t match their beauty standards. You don’t see us complaining about bm not liking nerds. get over yourself

[mimigemrose]

@heyblackrose

As a self-proclaimed blerd, I’ve noticed that some of my male counterparts were really just wanting to date non-black, nerd girls/women. They were never checking for black women. They just needed an excuse and they chose to pick one piss-poor reason.

[luos-ghost]

@vash-the-stampede92 not knocking u or nun but “call a spade a spade” slick means call a nigger a nigger. Js

[the-----paige]

@luos-ghost it deadass means stop blaming your weak ass game on the fact that you're a nerd. If a shorty don't like you, it's cause she don't like you. Somebody gone appreciate ya nerdy ass when the time comes. You took it somewhere it didn't need to go at ALL.

[the-----paige]

Seven Is The Number Of Completion

The number 7 is considered to be a number of completion and fullness. In biblical times, many significant events included the number. I could go on and on with specific stories but, this isn’t the aim of this post.

In my eyes, 7 means a fresh start. After 6 days of hard work, God took the day and regarded as a day of holiness and rest.

I’ll reflect on this 7th year as my year of completion, in a way.

7 years ago today, life as I knew it up to this point completely changed. It’s a day that I will never forget and always dread. It’s the day my Granny went home to be with the Lord. It was the most intense and insane emotional rush I had in my life. The radio played all the slow songs, it had rained all morning. The day I never saw coming was here and I had to face it. My life unraveled at that point, almost instantaneously.

Looking back on the moment, I still can’t believe the brave face I put on. I was only 17 and there was chaos surrounding me. My attitude towards people changed, I probably lost weight, I definitely had a permanent headache and there was more food at my house than we could eat. I was forced to grow up, I was bombarded with hugs, pats on the back and text messages.

To stay sane, I had to continue politics as usual. That actually led people to believe that I didn’t care. I really didn’t care how people viewed or guessed how they felt that I should feel, majority of those with an opinion didn’t matter. I can’t tell you how much I heard “your granny was proud of you and loved you” and wanted to respond back with “Nigga, I know.” I cared more about the gestures than the words. I cared that my best friends would just sit with me or risk having their phones taken away just to text me back. All in an effort to take my mind off the situation at hand somewhat.

My granny passing could not have come at a worse time. I keep thinking how my spring break started and that day we took her back to the hospital was the last time she saw her home. I remember her fussing at my momma to get me something nice for Easter. I also remember us talking about my sister’s recital and her silently whispering for us to not to get her a ticket. I pretended not to hear it because I didn’t want what took place next to be true.

All those thoughts roam my mind constantly, especially on today. Other chaotic happenings took place afterwards that helped make me into who I am today. I think back on all the things my granny gave up for us to be happy. I had a friend give me something to think about when we chatted last. It actually could not have been more on time. Just from what I shared, he was able to give me insight like he knew her.

“Think about if your grandma saved up all her little pennies and she didn’t help take care of you and sacrifice things she wanted just so you could be happy she could’ve lived anywhere and had anything she wanted but she probably felt like she lived her life and that she would rather invest it in you.”

Somedays, I’m okay. Somedays I’ll see something as small as a cardboard box folded up and think how she’d fuss at us about not throwing the boxes away properly then bust out into tears. I think about that doctor who thought not telling her soon enough what was going on and I wanna cave his face in. I can’t predict the future but, her passing when she did was more beneficial to me than I care to admit. It forced me to be self reliant. Not that my momma couldn’t do it, she was too sad to do some things and that’s okay, she had to live on without her momma. I’m sure there’s times she felt like she wasn’t doing enough but we were all on auto pilot and I can’t be mad at that.

Some horribly miscalculated article suggested that your body regenerates itself every 7 years. Given a recent google search, I found it not to be true but I like the idea. 7 years ago, a huge part of my world crashed. I was this little girl, days away from being deemed legal in the eyes of the world. I was scared of how to properly live life without one of my biggest supporters. With each day that passed, I gained the strength to make this tragedy into a testimony. Looking back, I am proud of how my 17 year old self coped and was a pillar of comfort for those around her.

7 signified so much in the Word, it marked the end of ugliness and the beginning of something beautiful. As I recognize this 7 year anniversary of my granny’s transition to Heaven, I feel that after this point, it can only go up from here.

[the-----paige]

Flint breeds champions. Congrats to Claressa for yet again, beating the brakes off someone's daughter and capturing another championship!

[the-----paige]

What Public School Did For Me

As the monstrosity known as the Cheeto Satan administration continues, yet another ill prepared, unqualified person was appointed to a disastrous cabinet of misfits. Betsy DeVos was appointed over the Department of Education. She's a big proponent of private schooling and for-profit education. I really won't get into the mumbo jumbo of it all, mainly because it doesn't directly involve the plot of my story. Anywhoo, I started my educational career in a private Christian academy and I HATED it. Not because the education was bad, I didn't like the amenities that came along with it. With it being a private school, obviously you have to pay tuition for it. I thought that concept was strange in itself, why pay to learn? Another thing I hated was wearing uniforms, they were hot, itchy and ugly. Class sizes were smaller, teachers got to know you on a personal level and all in all, the school was like a big family (it wasn't until years later that I realized that almost all the administrators were in fact related. 😂 talk about the family hustle) When the opportunity came for me to go to public school, it was a little scary, mainly because I knew it would be totally different. I still was upset, I wanted to go to school with my friends but my mom wouldn't let that happen. I made a smooth transition to life in public school, nothing was extremely different. What happens when the city kid goes to public school in the suburbs? I don't think I had ever been so terrified. Not because it was public school, it was public school with majority white people. White people scared me sick, I had actually broke out in hives before I was enrolled. I had never been around that many white people in my life. I crawled back into my shy stage and pretty much stuck to myself. My mom thought it would be a good idea to try out for an AAU team out there to get acclimated with the girls and I'd have friends. It was a very thoughtful and beneficial move made. Going to an all white school was a crash course to life. I learned that some of my peers had two homes because their parents divorced. I learned how to decipher backhanded compliments from genuine ones. I was told I looked like every Black entertainer who had extensions whenever I shared the same hairstyle. I was looked at like a spectacle, something they had never seen before. Though I got fairly acquainted in the white world, I stayed true to my Black self. I was introduced to country music and I shared some of my music with them. I was baited into believing that I had been called a nigga by a girl. Of course, I flipped out on her, dared her to say it to my face. She ran to the principal like a lil snitch and because of it, I had to sit a quarter in my basketball game that night. Privatization of public school is something I am not for, it keeps people separated. The elite stay with the elite in the upscale private schools and the poor get forced to attend subpar charter schools. It stunts character growth, along with the undocumented sensitivity training that happens when dealing with people from different walks of life. Diversity in education is what makes America unique. You cannot learn new things from those who learned the same things as you.

[the-----paige]

One of my favorite dancers to dance with. 😍 Kila Marie recently dropped her choreography to DJ Khaled's "Do You Mind". I hope this is the beginning of more videos to come for her. Subscribe to her channel and show her some love.