So, it’s Saturday night, meaning the real true weekend night before back to the 9-5… womp womp womp. And I say fuck the diet and gym, I’m ordering pizza and ima be on the weed. So I watch wicked, but later I feel called to hear Upgrade U. I get all into honey in the mirror like I’m Issa. No, deadass. I’m deadass 😏 lol iykyk

Anyways, let me get to the point. I listen to the lyrics and I’m like wait. That’s me! I’m an Upgrade U woman. My mind quite literally exploded and I was like wait - I really do be upgrading these niggas.

I started thinking about the men I dated and yeah, I upgrade u niggas.

Let me give you some details because I’m not being cocky, I just have the data to back it up. I upgrade u niggas.

I think of an ex in college, terrible boyfriend BTW, but when he was with me, his mom called me thanking me because his son had his best grades this semester. He was two years ahead of me. I upgrade u niggas.

I think of a few who got the job because of me. Trust me, they’re smart men or I wouldn’t have fucked with them, but they may not have gotten the job without me. I will help you recognize your power. I will practice the interview with you. I pray a specific prayer for you to get the job. I only want the best for you so whatever I can do to ensure you win, I will do it. I upgrade u niggas.

So now that you get the message, you see why “I’m known to walk alone, but I’m alone for a reason? Sending me a drink at appeasing. Believe me. Come harder this won’t be easy. Don’t doubt yourself, trust me, you need me.”

But seriously, do you know why I’m alone for a reason?

This pussy is powerful. I’m protecting you and myself. I’m serious. I didn’t always know this. Chiiiiiile I’m hard headed, but also I had a lot of generational unlearning to do. It’s some I’m still embarrassed about. He who shall not be named. 🤫 any Harry Potter fans?

I even tried having a friend with benefits and I had to lie and tell him my favorite position is from the back. Why? Cause the nigga was falling in love and I didn’t need us to lock eyes… iykyk. I’m gone change your life if I really lock in. Ima make him tap out if I really tap iiiiin 😜. S/O to Lizzo. And I picked you as a friends with benefits for a reason… it was never gonna be you. Harsh, but true.

Okay so back to the song. Bey and Jay were doing some fun tennis like storytelling in this song. They were both trying to impress each other, but to take it a step further, they’re on the same level. He matches her fly. They’re equally yoked. See how everything was so high end and expensive, we kids didn’t know what they were saying? Oh. Or was that just me mumbling Audemars Piguet watch? Cause baby I didn’t know what they were saying, but what I do know now is I’m trying to play tennis like Bey and Jay. I don’t mean financially, though that would be dope. I mean what’s better than 1 Black billionaire? TWOOOOOO.

I mean, I want someone who will not only match where I’m at, but match my desire for more. That’s how courting/dating/talking should be. We should be playing tennis. Showing we can match drive, generosity, sexually, financially, etc. Time and discernment will reveal authenticity, because the signs will be there if they’re inauthentic. Don’t ignore them! Please, listen to your body.

Which also means, STAND UP! Stop seeing potential in these niggas when you know you gone upgrade a nigga life. It ain’t just your pussy, it’s what comes with it. And with it, with me, gone have our kids saying “I ain’t seen a ceiling in my whole life”. Word to Blue, free styling like.

As an Upgrade U woman, I’m upgrading my own life, so if you gone come around here, you better not slow me down. Instead, I expect you to get me there faster because for you, I absolutely will. I’m gonna Cater 2 U. It’s fuck these men yes, but I’m a true lover girl once I commit. Shamelessly too.

Pause ⏸️. Reminds me of Meg - I cannot cater to these niggas, but I love some Bey. I gotta regulate these niggas like I’m Warren G.

Pause again ⏸️. I should make a playlist.

Upgrade U Playlist on Apple Music

Play. ▶️

If you’re an Upgrade U woman, don’t let anybody enter your womb, whether they’re impregnating you or not. Because we women are creators and multipliers; anything you receive from a man, you’ll multiply. Meaning wherever his high is, is where he’ll eventually bring you. So bring the man who is your equal. Who is in your tax bracket. Who is in your goal bracket. Who is in your travel bracket. Who is in your sex bracket. Who is in your emotional tax bracket. Who is in your looks bracket… LOL but seriously.

You may laughing but I’m serious. If you dated down looks wise, just know you run the risk of them pissing you off. And nothing will piss you off more than somebody ugly pissing you off. I know from experience. 😭

If you know you come with upgrades well past the material, don’t be laid up with any ol body. Seriously. Cause trust, the type of woman you are, men would see it as a come up to be tied to you with a child… yeah I said it, yeah I said it. Hey Riri.

Funny story. One time when I went out, someone asked me why I don’t have kids. I drunkingly said cause this is a million dollar womb.

Pause. ⏸️ She got that million dollar. Let me add that to the playlist.

Play. ▶️

I was just joking, but even my jokes honor how sacred my womb is. To run the risk of anything happening to my womb, you’re not just anybody-body. Ahaaaa. I carry the key to the next generation. I’m not interested in taking chances with that power. I want better for them and if you’re not elevating me, the next generation will be impacted by that, be it financially or emotionally. There’s so much power in who you surround yourself with, from coworkers to the person who has access to your womb; meaning that person better be a damn good one. Cause the wrong one will have you on the wrong journey. You can always reroute, but the faster you do, the faster you get back on track.

Gone and marinate on that a little bit…

Pause. ⏸️ OutKast please if yall do a tour together it would make my inner child elated. OutKast is what made roadtrips with my dad fun. It’s not just music, it’s a core memory of when times were much simpler.

Play. ▶️

I got a little emotional there. Must be the weed.

Note: when I say womb I don’t just mean for fertility. It’s simpler than that. Good sex breeds good results, gender neutral. Why? Because it lingers and you become lighter, more creative, more feminine. But bad sex, breeds bad results. A woman like you deserves to be worshipped for all you do for yourself and for others. You’re the glue to the friendship group kind of woman. You’re their mama don’t ever wanna let you go type of woman. U upgrade these niggas. He knows you do a lot, the least he can do is give you what you can’t give yourself sexually. Especially in the beginning. It only goes downhill, so please get yourself someone who doesn’t want to fuck you, but who lives to please you. Is that my worship kink speaking? Hehe.

No, but seriously it can all go downhill and even with Bey and Jay, or once upon a time did. So how down is your hill gone be? The higher the hill, the higher you fall yes, but the more protected the hill, the less likely you’ll fall far. And know that no one is immune to love life problems. Let’s not forget to mention, Jay didn’t want to go Eric Benét. He would do anything to have his queen back, even if the house is on fire. He knows there is no one like her. She’s UNIQUE, she’s Beyoncé. I mean think about it, he REALLY knows Bey. Very few have access to her and even fewer have access to her womb, her creativity. He understands her value.

“I can do for you what Martin did for the people. Ran by the men, but the women keep the temple. It’s very seldom that you’re blessed to find your equal. Still play my part but let you take the lead role.”

Like yes I’m here encouraging you to pursue your dreams, because I’m here for you. I’m here for all of you and I will protect us; temple, prayer, spiritual protection. I upgrade u niggas.

So what I’m saying is this. Even if “oh it’s just sex”, be selective in who that is because they have access to your womb, especially if you’re capable of a pregnancy.

And I’m not innocent. I have been with the wrong type of many of times, but it’s nothing but the grace of God (and protection) and even if I got got, I wasn’t gone stay got. Believe that. I guess you know where I stand politically reading this. Cause it ain’t nothing but the grace of God some people ain’t had to make that choice. We all got that one or two where we thank God we got away cleanly. Imagine if you didn’t, bet you’d hate to lose that option. No matter how careful you are, there’s always a tiny room for error and what if that error happened when so and so entered your womb.

I’m rambling again…

I’m conclusion, stay selective about who gets access to you period, but especially the one you choose to give access to your pussy. Please. That is your creative portal. You deserve pleasure that ascends. You’re what makes a home a home.

Pause. ⏸️ Hey Siri, play Home by KenTheMan.

Play. ▶️

Last thing - if you’re like, but you don’t understand. The d? The tongue? I do. Please start self pleasuring more. You’ll get some real good post nut clarity once you get to know yourself. “Oops” by Tweet is a great beginner’s guide.

Anyways, I have a feeling this is going to reach a new audience. So when it does, I just want to say:

Happy Black Women’s History Month to my music faves:

Bey - I won’t tell anyone if you mail me flowers. I know that is the only way we get to talk to you. Boundaries. Period! 💐 Oh and can we get the gift on vinyl? Bigger deserves so much more.

Solange - girl, you are so cool. I also appreciated what you did in Houston last June. I took my grandpa to zydeco night and he loved it. I took my dad to see the Clark sisters and that amazing saxophonist. You did that!

Doechii - I hope all the Black women feel this shit is the type of time I’m on. Also, thank you for introducing me to the Artist’s Way, it changed my life. 🫶🏾

Meg - I’m so happy for you and proud of you. The epitome of Katt Williams’ 14 to 16 haters. Cause it ain’t nothing but hate at this point. Tea is, that’s what makes her powerful… Truly, from one Texas girl to another.

Thanks for enjoying this very authentic piece. No seriously, this was a high brain dump. But if it flops, it flops. But if it ascends, it ascends. 😌 There’s beauty in no, or a small audience. I still have to remind myself of it. If you too have a fear of being seen authentically here on Substack, check out the article below. Until next time. 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

https://open.substack.com/pub/thebrianadionne/p/the-beauty-of-no-audience?r=2is9ez&utm_medium=ios

I often close my eyes and think what does comfort look like to me.

It looks like breath that flows easily.

It looks like time outdoors being held by the wind.

It looks like floating in water as the sun sparkles on my skin.

It looks like having the time and capacity to sit through difficult emotions.

It looks like the freedom to take a break.

It looks like more time spent in the kitchen dancing.

It looks like karaoke nights with my favorite people.

It looks like a partner who offers safety outside of myself.

It looks like my children running outside as I sip my morning coffee.

It looks like sunlight peeking through my home.

It looks like a home filled with art from my travels and photos of my favorite people

It looks a home that is clean, yet lived in.

It sounds like birds chirping and butterflies whizzing by.

It smells like freshly baked bread that doesn’t trigger my IBS.

It sounds and smells like an amber oud wood-wick candle burning.

It means I can easily afford a luxurious trip overseas to experience new people and art.

It means that unexpected expenses can easily be handled.

It means my finances have room for seasons of rest and restoration.

It means I can create from the heart and not desperation.

It means when people ask my financial status, I say, “I’m comfortable”.

Comfortable to me has no number, though money is essential.

Comfortable to me means a healthy balance of freedom and security.

It means I can have the material and the spiritual.

It means I can be of assistance to my community, as they are to me.

I simply want to be comfortable.

I wrote this in between meetings. I guess it’s a poem, or an essay, or just a journal entry. Chile, I don’t know! 🤷🏾‍♀️ Anyways, what does comfort look like to you? I’d like to hear all about it in the comments. Until next time 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

Pause. ⏸️ Thank you for reading the second part of my series “Negative Beliefs that Didn’t Belong to Me”. If you haven’t read the first part, please do (see link below). I realized I carry an unworthiness wound, built from 3 different negative self beliefs that started in childhood: 1. I’m ungrateful, 2. I’m sensitive, 3. I’m lazy. After I write about each of these, I will tie them all together in Part 4, where I will explain how these built my unworthiness wound. My goal here is to share how I’ve released these negative self beliefs and the unworthiness wound in hopes of connecting with others who may share, or shared, similar beliefs and wounds. In this article we will go into depth about the second negative self belief projected unto me: I’m sensitive.

Play. ▶️

The statement “You’re sensitive!” was something I heard more times than I can count, and honey, I can count. Often times, what would accompany that statement was “You can’t take a joke!”. Like any other child developing, you believe any authority figure, especially the man raising you. I grew up a daddy’s girl. I wanted to be wherever he was. My dad was my best friend. I didn’t go a day without speaking to him when my parents were together and when they split. However, there was a side to him I bore witness to as I grew up, that stunted me until I was 31.

The thing about me being told “you’re sensitive!” is that, it’s actually true. I’m very sensitive. I’m sensitive to sounds. I’m sensitive to touch. I’m sensitive to what people say about me and others. This negative self belief is the most complex of the three, because it’s true. This truth was unfortunately weaponized against me, causing me to 1. silence my true feelings and 2. not stand up for myself because, they’re not the problem, my sensitivity is. Right? Wrong. His covert ways of silencing me through these blanket statements stemming from the shame around his sensitivity, made me the perfect target for the bullies I’d soon meet in school and the dating woes as young woman.

Childhood Bullying

I’ve spoke about childhood bullying a time or two on here, but not in depth. Childhood bullying did a number on me, especially during ages 9-12. If your safest space doesn’t allow you to express hurt feelings without resolve and labels you something negative, you can imagine my self esteem outside of the home. Self esteem, according to Merriam Webster, is a confidence and satisfaction in oneself. I was not confident or satisfied with myself. My feelings were negated and even mocked by my God given protector. So when I showed up to school, I did not show up confidently; I showed up hoping to appease people. I was the perfect prey for children who likely did not have control in their home and were seeking control outside of it.

The worst wasn’t the bullying, it was the betrayal; friends who chose the “cool kids” over me. At 32, I understand it was social survival for them, but as a child, I couldn’t understand how they could not only abandon our friendship, but for people who actively sought to hurt me for simply existing. Some of these weren’t just friends, our families were friends, we’d been around each other since we were in diapers... Then they’d try to stick up for my bullies while offering advice as to how I can appease them. News flash - it didn’t work. Not to mention, they never once tried to get my bullies to stop, making me feel at fault for how I was being treated. Furthering the belief that my sensitivity is the problem.

Comedic Relief

At age 12, I did find something that worked. Comedy. I remember praying before going into middle school for a shift, a change as I entered a new chapter. Then God reminded me, I am good at making people laugh. I didn’t know it at the time, but I also had incredible pattern recognition. I would practice scripts in my head of what to say if they said something about me - I still do this.

Pause. ⏸️ That is a real dash. I’m a real human. It’s taken me nearly two weeks to write this, because it’s unpacking pain that I still carry. Just had to put that out there in the age of AI.

Play. ▶️

I often could predict who would say what, so I had to stay ready. I even had some “jokes” to say back to them, should it get to that point. Killing them with kindness didn’t work in elementary, but killing them with laughter? It worked, especially if I was making fun of myself, which made middle school a lot easier. I got pretty good at self deprecating jokes, that’s what seemed to work best and honestly, I’d much rather make fun of myself than someone else. You know, the “if you can’t beat em, join em mentality”. Many would laugh and they soon realized, I’m much funnier than them trying to spew hate. Making myself the butt of the joke was great for survival, but I had to unlearn that in my mid twenties.

Not to mention, I got into a scuffle in the spring before middle school and people realized that I could fight. Momma said don’t ever hit someone first, but if they hit you, you hit em back to protect yourself. And when the opportunity presented itself, those hits back weren’t just for the girl who started it, it was for everyone else that hurt me. I suppose that’s why I won, lots of suppressed anger. No one ever said anything to me directly, but I do remember thinking maybe they don’t mess with me anymore - they’re scared of me. Shit, I’d take it!

New Kid on the Block

My sophomore year of high school, I decided to move with my dad which resulted in me going to a new school. I will never forget that first day of school when lunch time came and I didn’t know a soul. It was scary. Where do I sit? I began panicking. Everyone knew everyone. I wanted a fresh start at a new school, but I realized I was emotionally unprepared for said change. Thankfully, I had a crutch; my dad was a teacher at my high school, so I had lunch with him. I did this a few times, but I was embarrassed, so I forced myself to try going to the cafeteria again. I ended up sitting by myself and a group of girls asked if I wanted to sit with them. I gleefully did for the rest of the semester.

I made friends here and there throughout high school, but it wasn’t until I was a junior that I had friends to go to homecoming with. They weren’t my besties, but they were somebody I could call a friend for the first time in well over a year.

My senior year though, it all changed for the better. I met my best friend and she was new too. We instantly bonded and I remember feeling excited and uncomfortable when she asked if I wanted to hangout over the weekend. I’d gotten used to being a loner and I was scared I was going to fuck it up. She was new too and I hoped she didn’t think I could help her make friends. Everyone knew me as Mr. [Redacted]’s daughter - having no identity of my own, so I feared she would be disappointed in being my friend, considering I had little social currency. Fast forward, I didn’t fuck it up. We are still best friends to this day. I’m her kids’ TT Bri. She is literal family. We even have matching tattoos lol. She made me feel safe, seen and loved and even healed the wound of betrayal I had carried from years prior. I love you ES. 🫶🏾

Leaving the Nest

As mentioned in Part 1, I went to college 12 hours away. Despite my dating woes, I blossomed in friendships. There were a few so called friends who tried it, but for the most part, I had friends. Real friends. After college, I continued to nourish those relationships and created more.

Now, I damn near have too many friends. Younger me wouldn’t believe it! It’s hard to keep up with people that I love, go to work, take care of myself and work on my dreams, but I still hear “you’re sensitive!” and “you can’t take a joke!”, even in friendships that I’ve had for over ten years.

Last year, a best friend of mine hurt my feelings. I knew I had to tell her, but I didn’t know how. How do I say, “hey can you like my posts?” It sounds silly and elementary, but I noticed her absence in my posts. On my stories, she was active. On my actual posts, she was not and I was trying to grow my YouTube channel and TikTok presence. After weeks of letting it stir in me, I brought it up and despite the years and depth of friendship, I prepared myself mentally for the friendship to change or stop because I thought “I’m just being sensitive”. I even said to myself, “who would want to be friends with someone who gets in their feelings over social media?” My best friend was so gentle with me and apologized that it was coming across that way and we talked through it like mature adults who value our friendship and feelings. She even followed it up with changed behavior regarding my social media - a real apology.

Afterwards, it healed the wound in me that I cannot speak up for myself without being dismissed emotionally or physically. It also showed me that genuine apologies can exist and aren’t full of the perfect words and empty promises so I can quickly move on and shut-up. I share this story because this is a self belief that I still have to work on, but at 31, my best friend helped me rewrite the story around apologies and speaking up for myself. I love you VM. 🫶🏾

Pause. ⏸️ Whew! This one was not easy because I couldn’t write my truth without protecting those who didn’t protect me. I may face backlash or triangulation for this, but I guess that’s the price I’d have to pay. This is the hardest negative belief because it’s not wrong, but it took time for me to acknowledge and release the shame around my sensitivity. I know I’m not ungrateful. I know I’m not lazy. But I am sensitive and that is okay.

My sensitivity is what makes my love deeper. My sensitivity is what makes me feel connected in nature. My sensitivity helps me to fully see others and their gifts. My sensitivity is what reminds me that I’m a human having a human experience. I’m honored to still hold my sensitivity in high regard in a cold and volatile world; a strength few have.

Play. ▶️

I will leave you with these questions to journal and ponder

1. What is a strength of yours that was once used as a weakness or a negative self belief?

2. Who gave you that negative self belief? Write their name(s) down.

3. Write a letter to those people releasing this negative self belief. Afterwards, store it or burn it. Your choice.

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I will be back soon with part 3 of this series with “I’m Lazy”, but as always, thank you for reading. If you feel called to like, comment, or share this with someone this may resonate with, please do. Until next time. 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

Pause. ⏸️ Before I get started, I want to start off by saying this will be a 4 part series. I realized I carry an unworthiness wound, built from 3 different negative self beliefs that started in childhood: 1. I’m ungrateful, 2. I’m sensitive, 3. I’m lazy. After I write about each of these, I will tie them all together in Part 4, where I will explain how these built my unworthiness wound. My goal here is to share how I’ve released these negative self beliefs and the unworthiness wound, in hopes of connecting with others who may share, or shared, similar beliefs and wounds.

Play. ▶️

Formative Years

“You’re ungrateful!” a statement that I often heard in my upbringing when I expressed my dislike or disinterest in something. It could be as simple as mentioning my dislike of sweet potatoes (sorry yall, I don’t like them - healthy or unhealthy), or if I was gifted a Lil Romeo album even though I was team Lil Bow Wow (I will still stand on Lil Romeo being cuter though). In order to appease my elders, I politely smiled and showed gratitude, while silencing my true feelings. I learned it was better to do this, than to express myself, because expressing myself would turn into lectures of how there are other children who receive nothing that would be grateful to have some sweet potatoes or a new cd, or worse - I deserve nothing if I keep it up. This made me internalize, maybe I am ungrateful, because I do receive nice things; it may not be what I wanted, but something is better than nothing. Right?

The truth of the matter was, it wasn’t that I was unhappy with receiving gifts, I was unhappy because this isn’t what I wanted and my elders were well aware of my likes and dislikes. These examples are minuscule as an adult, but as a child they are huge and your elders are your Gods. If your elders say you’re ungrateful when you speak up, well then, you’re ungrateful. Also, talking back? What’s that? Not allowed in my household growing up. I’m ungrateful and that’s final.

Teenage Years

Like any ordinary teen, I tried expressing myself more. Sometimes expressing myself meant, I don’t agree with one’s opinion. When trying to speak up like the young woman I was becoming, I was shot down and yet again told “you’re ungrateful!” and/or “after all I do for you?!”. I knew it didn’t make sense to be labeled ungrateful for simply having a difference of opinion, but you hear something enough without proper dialogue and resolve, our minds have no choice but to believe it. Me disagreeing didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful, or didn’t love them, it simply meant I didn’t agree with that specific opinion. Just as a child, I realized having a difference of opinion would result in anger from my elders, so to keep the peace, I swallowed their words in silence.

Young Adult Years

Once I left home, I was free to rebel, or so I thought. I went to college 12 hours away just to fall into a familiar chaos with a man. He felt like home I used to tell myself, not realizing, that’s not always a good thing. Home is comfortable, but home for me meant: I’m ungrateful, I’m sensitive, I’m lazy. Funny enough, he didn’t have to say those things to me because I was determined to prove to him and myself I wasn’t what my elders projected unto me. I sang his praises because I truly was grateful for the scraps he gave me. Here’s the thing, all that “I’m ungrateful” talk programmed me to appreciate any and everything from someone. I was overjoyed to receive a gift, even if it came after an argument where I was put down. A Valentine’s card a day late? Hey, at least he got me one and it’s on sale; something is better than nothing. A blanket apology instead of a genuine apology followed by changed behavior? Hey, at least he apologized. He was flirting with someone else? At least he didn’t sleep with her. See how programming me to simply be grateful led me to accepting shit with a smile? If I had been more sure of who I am, who I’m not, what I deserve and what I don’t deserve, I may not have subjected myself to a familiar chaos. But that’s neither here nor there, as I learned some valuable lessons about myself.

Post Frontal Lobe Years - Dating

I dated a lot after 25, A LOT. Each man I encountered, I put my best foot forward aka being grateful for the crumbs, or lack thereof. You know, “fucking the texts man for texts” type shit. Yeah that tweet humbled the hell out of me. I wasn’t fucking them all, but the fact that a text was currency to me then… EEEEEYUCK! But why wouldn’t it be? My conditioning made me look for anything to be grateful for, even a measly text.

Dating, in my opinion, is one of the best ways to see yourself. You say you love yourself, but your actions say otherwise. You say you love yourself, but your partner fucking hates you. You can’t love yourself! I didn’t love, or know, myself at all. I simply moved through life with the belief that I’m ungrateful, so to prove I’m not, I’d tell myself “it’s not that bad” or “he doesn’t owe me anything anyways”. This type of thinking is exactly why I was single for 8 years, I wasn’t even allowing the bare minimum to be met and when it wasn’t, I made excuses for them, instead of cutting contact.

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The Catalyst Year - 31

An ex I’ve mentioned here a few times, drunkingly berated me for days on vacation and when I chose to walk away from his chaos, he said “people go through worse”. What do you mean by that? You tried throwing every insecurity of mine in my face and called me out of my name, while I was sick. So what was worse? I never asked by the way, what I imagined was horrific things I’d never want to endure, nor would it change my decision to leave him.

Pause. ⏸️ Hey Siri, play Number One Rule by Megan Thee Stallion - specifically the first verse cause TUH. 🙂‍↔️

Play. ▶️

He was the catalyst for me realizing I have some work to do because, who you attract may not have to do with who you are, but who you continue to entertain sure does. I was entertaining shit because I was seemingly grateful for shit. Why? I didn’t believe I was worthy of more. I also felt if I proved that I didn’t require much, I’d be given more. The lie detector test proved THAT was a lie. I fell for the future faking and scraps he gave me. Yes his scraps were more than what others gave me years prior, but they were still scraps. I know I deserved and desired more, but my actions were consistently choosing shit, so shit is what I received.

In Closing

Gratitude doesn’t mean to be grateful for anything anyone gives you. If I order a lobster dinner and receive a chicken dinner, no one would say I’m ungrateful if I send my plate back; they’d understand why I’d be upset receiving the wrong thing. And a good restaurant would remedy their mistake! Don’t be so grateful that you accept less than your worth. Decline what they’re trying to give and know that what you’re asking for will come in due time.

Grateful, according to Merriam Webster, means appreciative of benefits received : feeling or showing thanks. If someone gives you something and it’s not beneficial, then it doesn’t make you ungrateful at all.

Merriam Webster further defines grateful as pleasing by reason of comfort supplied, or discomfort alleviated. Was comfort supplied? Was discomfort alleviated? If not, then again, expressing your dislike or further discomfort, shouldn’t categorize you as ungrateful.

Furthermore, when you think about it, not liking something shouldn’t equate to being “ungrateful”; it simply means, ‘nice gesture, I just don’t like it’. Someone may have every right for their feelings to be hurt, or to be annoyed, but that doesn’t give them the right to label you as something you’re not just to satisfy their fragile ego. That’s manipulation at play babes.

Also, people know what they’re doing. If you tell someone your favorite color is blue and they keep buying you purple things, they’re not listening to you, or worse, it’s a “test” to see how you’ll respond. Again, manipulation.

WHEW! So, that was a lot, but if you saw yourself in this scenario, know that you’re not what people labeled you. In my particular case, the things those elders labeled me were projections; admissions of guilt. I carried their own negative self belief, but it’s not mine to carry anymore. I’m good luv, enjoy! 😘💅🏾

I will leave you with these three things to journal about.

1. What negative self beliefs do you have? Write them down and when you first began believing them. Did they come from you, or someone else? If someone else, put a name and maybe a story to it. This will help you in knowing what negative self beliefs are truly yours and which ones are not.

2. Do you overcompensate for these negative self beliefs, or try to prove you’re not those self beliefs? If so, write down the actions you take to overcompensate for these negative self beliefs. Writing them down will help you to acknowledge them so that you can abandon them. They may have served you then, but they do not serve you now.

3. What positive self beliefs do you have? Write them down and when you first began believing them. Did they come from you, or from someone else? If someone else, put a name and maybe a story to it. This will help you remember who your people are.

As always, thanks for reading. Don’t forget to share this with someone who you believe it will resonate with! I’m excited to continue this series and release the negative self beliefs that don’t belong to me. Until next time. 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

I wrote this poem last summer while on a 14hr flight. It’s a conversation between my current self, my inner child and God.

I once thought I wasn’t creative;

What a fucking lie.

I was silenced by love,

I was hardened by reality.

I was told who to be and how to act,

But that was never me.

I’m a wild woman.

I’m an esoteric woman.

I’m a human fucking being.

I’m not your pretty little machine.

I’m a goddess.

I’m a novelist.

I’m the anchor.

I’m an actor,

Acting to satisfy the world.

But who’s going to satisfy me?

And where’s my Hollywood star

For acting thus far?

I may not sing on key,

I may not sell art like Banksy,

But I’m creative.

I’m here to create.

My words are to be heard,

As if I were a mockingbird.

Ever had one wake you in the middle of the night?

It’s beautiful, frustrating and intriguing.

It will have you questioning why you’re listening.

Like a mockingbird,

My voice is meant to invoke you;

It’s meant to invoke me too.

It asks -

What are we holding back?

What could we be creating?

You can try to ignore my voice,

But it will keep coming back

Until you finally do what I ask.

Create something,

Be something,

Work through your fears.

Don’t stay stuck here.

I am God.

I am within you.

I will lead you.

• Briana Dionne 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

I was born and raised in Texas, where the state bird is the northern mockingbird. Northern mockingbirds can sing up to 200 songs, including the songs of other birds and sounds from insects and amphibians - according to wheretexasbecametexas.org. Male mockingbirds looking for a mate, tend to sing through the wee hours of the night and especially during full moons. Birdfly.com believes that the spiritual meaning of mockingbirds’ singing includes freedom of expression, transformation, connection to the divine, and joy/playfulness.

As always, thank you for reading. If this poem resonated with you, please like, comment, and/or subscribe. If you feel called, share this with a friend. Until next time. 😌

It’s important to note that while I’m an angry Black woman, that is not all I am. I exude joy more often than anger, because I’m not stuck in one perpetual emotion. I am a Gemini with a heavy mutable chart, I’m always changing my mind, mood, interests, etc. I am also a lover girl through and through and dare I say that it’s probably why I’m so damn mad. Cause where is the love?!

Pause. ⏸️ Hey Siri, play Mad by Solange.

Play. ▶️

Anyways, I got a lot to be mad about. Here’s a short list of why I’m mad.

1. AmeriKKKa

2. Childhood friends who bullied and betrayed me

3. My exes - RAWT IN HAIL lol

4. That old situationship - cause how did you not see how powerful we could have been together?

5. My father because when will you get it?

6. My bank account cause you should be as big as my titties.

7. Hyper independence - this is actively being worked on, but I’m still mad I feel the need to do it all alone.

8. My soulmate cause you’re taking too long UGH.

So yeah, I’m mad/angry. For years I suppressed it because anger is uncomfortable for those feeling it and its recipients. I never properly learned how to handle my anger. I started getting angry around age 10. My mom, bless her soul, got the brunt of it. Childhood bullying broke me down so I would lash out at home subconsciously, because my mother was my only safe space to do so. I couldn’t stand up to my bullies at school, but at home if my mom said something I didn’t like, my rage would see it to cut her deep. It wasn’t about her, it was about me and the pain I was feeling from many at school, because at that age, school is life. Eventually my rage started scaring us both, so I saw a doctor about it. It somewhat helped, but what did help was the birth of my brother shortly after I turned 12. I was a big sister now, I said to myself “I have to get it under control for him”. Also, how can you be angry when there’s a cute baby around? So I did what I knew how to do at the time, suppress it.

Pause. ⏸️ I want to say thank you to my mom. She knew something was not right within me and many wanted her to spank me into submission, but she didn’t. She sought out professional help for me instead of harming me in a way that would harden me. I love you deeply mommy.

Play. ▶️

Fast forward, I kept my rage to a minimum. I had my moments because period hormones as a teenager? 0/10. But overall, it was nothing like the 10 and 11 year old version of me.

However, there were a couple of moments in college where my anger scared me. I blacked out in a fit of rage twice. I told people I loved, I hated them. The only reason I know I told them this, is because they told me I said it. I did not hate them, yet they cannot unhear what I said, even though I never meant it. I also had an ex, who very much deserved the rage I spewed cause how are you going to cheat on me when I’m in the next room?! Literally, the next room. Asshole. Anyways, I blacked out in a fit of rage and it scared me. I left him alone after that, because I did not want to stay with someone who pulled me that far out of character. Both of these situations showed me that my anger needed to get under control, STAT!

Now I’m in my 30s, I haven’t had that level of rage happen in over 10 years. Part of it is just knowing who I can and cannot be around, because some people make it their mission to dim my light by any means necessary. Being both beautiful and kind is a dangerous game - there’s an article I could write about that. Another part of it is also knowing that my anger can cause irreparable damage to those I love. Alas, in 2025 I started to sit with my anger. I began writing and it served as a gentle and sacred release. I went to a rage room. I also went to therapy - now I had been in therapy for years, but I had to take care of urgent matters first, before getting to the root. I realized the root of my anger was telling a story and there was a pattern; “I’m not enough”.

From the bullying, cheating exes, father wounds, and lack of commitment from men, they all hit a deep wound of not being enough. I performed my worth day in and day out, just to be told in so many ways, I’m still not enough. To be both Black and woman in America, you’re not enough to both your non-Black counterparts and to those who look like us. Sexism and misogyny is felt by Black women not only outside of our homes, but often inside too with our fathers and partners and even the women who uphold it. You can another layer if you’re a Black woman who is queer and/or disabled. Ugh. Misogyny and sexism are the bitches who have stole many people’s joy. Grrrr. 🤬 but I’m here to tell you if no one else has, YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Pause. ⏸️ Hey Siri, play This Bitch Matters by Doechii. Speaking of Doechii, girl I appreciate you! You’ve inspired me and I hope to meet you one day to say it in person. But as I deal with my wounds around worthiness, it’s important to remind myself, THIS BITCH MATTERS!

Play. ▶️

So what do I do to handle this anger? I realized my rage was scary because I wasn’t expressing it until it completely boiled over. When triggered, my body would take over to protect and regulate itself, no matter who, what, when or where; hence, the blackouts. Very much, the body keeps the score-esque. Now? Any small bit of anger, I release it. How? Below are some healthy ways that works for me.

1. Scream in my car

2. Journal like Regina George in Mean Girls

3. Go on a walk or run

4. Play my sound bowls

5. Nap

6. Deep breaths

7. Sing and dance - twerking is my fave

8. Go to a rage room

9. Look at the sky

10. Rap in the mirror like Issa

11. My last and favorite - LEAVE THEM! ☺️😘

By doing this, I’m able to feel and release my anger as quickly as it comes, instead of letting it build like a RICO case. Sometimes it creates art, but more importantly it is a release.

So yes, I’m an angry Black woman, but my anger is not anything to be feared, but to be heard and released. Anger is what often fuels change. Anger is what started movements such as the Civil Rights movement and Me Too. Anger is sacred. Anger is a catalyst for change. Anger creates art. Anger is what made me leave rooms that were not serving me anymore. Anger has a story to tell!

In conclusion, let me leave you with these 3 questions.

1. What do you think your anger is telling you?

2. How are you releasing your anger? Healthily and unhealthily, write them down.

3. What changes have you made due to your anger in the past and what changes is your anger asking you to make today?

As always, thank you for reading. Each article is like a peek into my overactive mind. If you feel called, please comment, like, follow and subscribe. Lastly, if you feel this will resonate with someone, please share with them. Oh and the dashes I used are MINE, ain’t no ChatGPT round here patna.

Until next time. ☺️🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

I had this idea in my head as I was driving home from work, as I do often - what if I created a rom-com with classic love songs for my fellow hopeful romantics on Valentine’s Day?… so here it goes. Playlist to follow at the end.

I’m excited for the day when Love Calls…

I imagine I meet you at a record store and our eyes meet for the first time and we both experience Happy Feelin’s. We speak about our favorite artists and the levitating experience of witnessing a live band before exchanging numbers.

The following week we go on our first date. You take me to a concert hall where your favorite live band is performing; the same band we spoke about upon meeting for the first time. I wear a red dress and I can feel through your constant gazes, you try to refrain from saying My My My, because you don’t want lust overshadow a blooming connection. While nervous at first, we dance the night away as if we’ve known each other for years, even making fans throughout the night.

Soon we begin to spend more moments together, with each time we spend it’s almost Never Too Much. Sometimes we see a movie, other times we go to dinner, but our favorite thing to do is to take A Long Walk. We talk and observe the trees, not noticing that seasons begin changing. This feels different. This is consistent. This is easy.

When we aren’t going on dates or walks, we chat on the phone while preparing dinner or away with friends and family. Again, it is easy and timeless, as if Nothing Even Matters.

Your friends begin asking what keeps you so busy these days and you let them in on the privacy they should know. You refer to me as your Cococure.

My friends and family ask me the same. I tell mine I can’t find the words, but you feel like the beginning of Maxwell’s Fortunate… woooooooooh ooh oooh oooh oooh woo woo woo wow woooo… something about Maxwell, intentional and sensual. All the while, us not knowing we describe each other to our closest people like a Maxwell song.

Now it’s been fall, winter and spring is ending. With the seasons changing and summer ramping up all I can think is “Why Don’t We Fall in Love?”. We haven’t said the words, but it’s there. I know it’s there.

I kept us waiting because you understood how important it is to me that this feels right. You take me back to the record store where we met and ask me, “Will you be my girlfriend?” as Snoh Aalegra’s “I Want You Around” plays in the background. I laugh and tell you it took long enough. We kiss and head to a local bar to drink, dance, and celebrate our new relationship status. While it felt like forever, it felt right we moved at our pace. The DJ plays Floetry’s “Say Yes” and the night takes a turn for the better. We are no longer laughing or yapping, we are still knowing what’s about to take place.

We head to your place in the city and there’s cake and balloons as another surprise to celebrate me being your girlfriend. I thank you, but it can wait. I finally feel safe to explore each other physically, and you tell me I’m such a sight to see in the month of June. Reminding me of one of my favorite songs from Usher, “Love You Gently”. All I can think is can we chase the moon forever?

Gentle, but masculine and smooth like Crown Royal on ice we had earlier. It’s nasty and sacred. It was well worth the wait. You’re no longer the guy that nerds out over music with me anymore, you’re my man.

In the morning as we lay in bed, you let me know that this isn’t physical and All You (I) Do is think about me. You said you’d been planning this for a while, but didn’t want to rush things and risk losing me. I told you that wouldn’t have happened, but I’m glad we waited. You get up to make me breakfast before taking me to the airport, as I head on a girls trip. You hug and kiss me goodbye and say “I love you”. You laugh and say ooops, I tell you “I know you meant it!” followed by “I love you too”. All I can think is how sneaky you are to pull this right before a girls trip. How can I hide this joy from them?!

We begin on a journey of merging our lives for the next year. We start taking our own trips across the world to places we spoke about on our first date; Tanzania, Joshua Tree, and Italy, just to name a few. We meet each other’s family and friends and again, things are easy for once. Easy and we both Don’t Ever Wonder.

The following spring, we head to the Oregon Coast, one of my favorite places to visit. You ask me wear the red dress from our first date. You then tell me that night you felt like Johnny Gill. I laugh and my intuition begins going crazy, because I remember thinking about how you looked at me that night and it felt like that song. I then think, “could this be the day?” but I allow the night to unfold without being in my head. After a nice dinner, we return to our Airbnb and under the stars, you plan a private proposal playing the song at the record store when we first met, When Somebody Loves You Back. I never knew you remembered the song playing, but I quickly say yes. I begin sobbing uncontrollably because the little girl in me got her wish, but you hold me and we dance to what is officially our song.

While we moved slow in the beginning, we marry less than 6 months later on my family’s property, surrounded by our favorite people. My favorite memory of the night is singing We Are One in unison like a choir. A choir comprised of those who have supported us both individually, and will now support us together as a we begin life as a married couple. It was intimate, it was Black AF, it was a night many would speak about for years.

After our loved ones leave, I ask you How Does it Make You Feel? You describe to me every feeling you’ve felt from the day we met, up until now and assure me, You (I) Can’t Stop and won’t stop Loving Me (You).

Unfortunately all of this was just a figment of my imagination, you’re a Distant Lover I suppose…

https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/for-the-hopeful-romantic/pl.u-mJy88grtDLB2ma

This was something different, but fun to write. Let me know your thoughts and share this with a fellow music lover and a hopeful romantic this Valentine’s Day. As always, thanks for reading. Please like, comment and subscribe if you feel inclined. Until next time. 🥰

I found my inner rapper and not only is she cocky, she reminded me of who I’ve been, who I am, and where I’m going.

In December of 2024, I visited one of my besties. She’d just moved into a new home and I was excited to come into town and see it, as we often FaceTimed throughout the process of it being built. Inside the home, her husband built a recording studio. He is a talented musician and honestly they’re both creative beings that inspire me. Side Note: Liking your best friend’s husband is a HUGE flex. Anyways, I joked with him and said let’s hop in the studio, I want to rap. He said okay. I put it off for a day because I got scared.

On my final full day there, I began writing my “rap” on my notes app and even shared it with my best friend. It was horrible! We were laughing at it over dinner and I thought I cannot go through with this and embarrass myself. Later that day her husband asked if I was ready to hop in the studio. I told him I was hoping he forgot. He assured me it would be fun, but I needed some liquid courage first in case I made a fool of myself. Which who cares if I did, this was for fun and in a safe space. Once we all got in the studio, he asked me what my vibe was. I told him southern female rap. After-all, I am a Texas girl so I wanted something that resonated with my culture.

He finds a beat, tweaks it around a bit and asks if I’m ready. I’m not, but I started rapping from the notes from my phone. Yes, the same notes me and my bestie laughed at over dinner. I had less than 16 bars, but I put my all in it. I tell him “that’s all I got 😅” with the thought that we are done. He says no, keep going. I told him I don’t have anything and he said that’s okay, just start rapping whatever comes to mind. HUH?!

I freeze for a second and look at my best friend with the face of “HELP ME”! She just laughs and then something powerful happened. Something took over my body. I was not me and I began channeling for the first time. I spoke about dormant dreams and venerated my ancestors. I exuded confidence that I’d only dreamt of having. It was my higher self talking and she was taking HER shit, well deserved might I add. My best friend has a video of me hearing the playback and I say “she’s so cocky”. It was giving Tina Snow vs. Megan Pete or Sasha Fierce vs. Beyoncé; my alter ego was my higher self. I was in complete awe. Who is this woman? I love her! And why was I speaking about my great great grandmother?!

Pause. ⏸️ let’s define channeling; channeling is the act of receiving messages or energies from a higher or non-physical source.

Play. ▶️

From then on, I remembered things and people I had suppressed, including my great great grandmother, who was a beacon of light during my first 15 years of my life. I spent a lot of time with her growing up and at one point me and my mom lived with her while our home was being built. She wasn’t super talkative, but with her we had a deep connection. I’d yap and she would smile with pride. I can still feel her hugs. She made the best pinto beans and cornbread, even in her nineties, and she always had soda water (NOT pop) in the back, especially my favorites; Diet Dr. Pepper and Big Red. She was revered by many in her small town. As I crave a slow life these days, she introduced me to it. Sundays were for rest, church and family and NO cleaning whatsoever, not even laundry! We spent hours sitting on her porch, shelling pecans from her pecan tree, waving at neighbors, and reading the local newspaper. I would often share my school lesson plans with her and her middle daughter, earning me the nickname of “Teacher, Teacher”. Her life was simple, but full of love.

My great great grandmother was everything to me and I’d forgotten about her. When she passed I was stuck, as it was the first grief I’d known and I began to understand I have a tendency to disassociate when overwhelmed with emotion. She wasn’t sick, she was a couple months shy of 100, so it was a quick and peaceful transition for a wonderfully lived life. However, it was a transition I thought would never happen. It sounds silly, but knowing how old she was, mixed with her sound mind and mobility, I didn’t think death was in the plans for her. I fully believed she would see me married with children one day. LOL, which is crazy because I have neither yet. A few months after venerating her through my “rap”, I found pictures and post cards I’d sent her through boxes which brought light to memories I’d dimmed. I now keep her pictures and our memories close to me.

Something else that came from my time in the studio was remembering my love for music. I’ve always loved music and funny enough, I was a great singer as a child. I would often open up for our church city wide revivals for both children and adult choirs and my great great grandmother would proudly be in attendance. People still ask my Granny if I have long hair and can sing, she sadly says no to both LOL. Puberty, or maybe a vocal cord injury, took my angelic voice away so I haven’t been a great singer in years. But I forgot just how deep my love for music was until I found my song book about a month after the studio with songs I’d written at age 10. I even found some fashions I drew. I would often cut up old clothes, attempt to sew them and record songs that I’d written on a tape player. I even used to perform my songs, along with Destiny’s Child’s, during Family Reunions and gatherings. I fully believed I would be a triple threat star. Singing, acting, modeling.

Maybe I still will be, or maybe I can still use my voice, creativity and beauty in a different way. Either way, ever since I channeled in the studio, I can’t stop. Not to mention, how wonderful it is to have a personal song that reminds me of who I’ve been, who I am, and where I’m going. I feel God within me and I honor our relationship more than ever since this moment. And of course I would, there’s no way I could venerate my great great grandmother without experiencing how great God is. She rarely missed a Sunday service, prayer line call, or Bible study. Now will I join the church again? That’s up for debate, but again, my relationship with God is even stronger since I stepped foot in that studio.

Have you ever channeled? If so, what was your first time or most memorable channel like? Sound off in the comments. I would love to hear about it if you’re comfortable.

As always, thank you for taking time to read! If this resonated with you, please like and subscribe and if you feel this may resonate with someone else, share it with them. Until next time. 😌🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

I had been job hunting for over 6 months. I knew it was time to move on from my current role. I learned a lot, but I was constantly reminded, this is not a good fit anymore. Do I move across the country, do I stay put? Do I change companies, or seek a role in my current company? Do I quit my job and go full creator mode? So many decisions and I was getting frustrated with God. I’m praying, I’m applying, I’m networking, I’m even open to pivoting. Still, nothing but silence and rejection. At one point I made it to a final interview round and thought yay, this is the job for me! I didn’t get it. I was crushed. Everything felt right, it felt like a HELL YES, but they said no. The same day, another position I had applied for within my company, requested a quick screening. I wanted to say no because I was upset, but I compartmentalized my feelings and proceeded to continue. The phone screening went well and HR cleared me for a first round interview. Yay. I made it to the second interview. Woohoo! The following week, I got the call, we would like to offer you a role. I felt nothing.

Finally, an answered prayer, a new role that I had been waiting for, for over 6 months and I felt nothing?! How could this be. I didn’t tell anyone for a day. My closest people knew I’d been waiting for this moment, but why did it not feel like a HELL YES? Does that mean I say no? Confusion set in. I chatted with God asking for understanding. Then it hit me. Every yes doesn’t have to be a HELL YES, or a big moment. The bigger question I needed to ask myself was, does it feel like a no, or worse, a HELL NO? No, it doesn’t.

Fun fact: when it is a no, I feel it and usually in my stomach, I’m very in tune to how my body reacts to people and decisions. I did not have those feelings, I just expected to jump for joy. I proceeded to sit with these feelings a little while longer.

The next day, I decided I will say yes. Why? Because it is not a HELL NO. It’s a quiet yes. Maybe the HELL YES will come later as an affirmation I made the right decision, but first I must say “yes”. Could it be the loud fear of making the wrong decision, that is making the yes feel quiet? Maybe so. Fear will always be loud and fear is important to the human body at times, but fear is also limiting. We must work through our fears in order to progress in life. If we allow fear to dictate every decision, we would live a life full of limits. And as for me, I serve a limitless God and I will say yes to every opportunity that allows me to expand and feel God in new ways.

I later thought, maybe on the other side of the yes, is more than what I could have prayed for. Maybe on the other side of yes, I unlock a new and improved version of myself. Or maybe on the other side of yes, it doesn’t work out. Whatever the case may be, I’m learning to say yes as long as I don’t hear a HELL NO. Because if it doesn’t work out, I can always change direction again. That’s the beauty of life, change. And with this new role, God answered what I ultimately was praying for, which was change. And it couldn’t have come at a more perfect time at the completion of my Saturn return in less than 2 weeks. Any Saturn in Pisces people here? We made it through a hectic 3 years. Woohoo!

As always, thank you for listening. 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨ I hope this message resonated with you. If so, please share with someone else who may relate to this message if they’re job seeking or on the cusp of a major decision. Please subscribe if you feel called to as well.

I’ve briefly spoken about this before, but after gaining 11 subscribers (THANK YOU!) and a conversation with one of my best friends, there’s beauty in no audience, or a small one. I get to make missteps, figure out my groove, and connect with others on an intimate level. Do I want this to grow? Absolutely. But for now, no one is harshly judging me. I’m free to be me.

I write and sometimes I get a like or a comment, but I do this for me. I’m not performing, I’m being me and I get to on a new platform quietly (for now, my time is coming, TRUST). When you have an audience, you can get lost in performing. You’ll focus on satisfying your audience instead of satisfying your soul. I want to feed my soul and connect with like minded individuals. Maybe by bearing my soul on here I will find new and aligned opportunities. Maybe I can use Substack to generate more income. Or maybe this is just something that my great grandchildren can read to connect with me once I’m gone. Whatever the case may be, I do this for me and not having an audience makes it a little easier.

You may be thinking to yourself “I’m not performing on social media”. Maybe you’re not, but performance can look like being overly critical when posting a selfie because your crush may see. It doesn’t have to be a big spectacle. We perform all the time, for example, interviewing for a job. I don’t want to perform anymore than I already have to (I work in corporate America). I’m 32, I started social media in middle school first on Xanga, then MySpace, Facebook, Instagram, Vine, etc. and everything I did was to make sure I was liked by my peers. I also don’t relate to the previous versions of myself that I built on those platforms. In 2025 I got tired of that and started showing the parts of me that I once hid on Threads, TikTok, and now Substack. Why? Because starting over with no audience I wasn’t worried about being perceived because no one was really watching. Eventually people started watching, but they were strangers and they too were looking for organic engagement. And guess what? I grew my accounts organically and my followers feel more like a community than observers.

So if you’re starting over, or you have a small audience, don’t focus on the numbers. Use that as a way to show up authentically for you. Stop judging yourself and allow yourself to grow and figure it out. No one is going to judge you, no literally you have no followers, so who’s judging?! Harsh? Maybe, but it’s true. That’s an advantage that larger creators may wish they had. You get to start fresh and be YOU! That is the beauty of no audience. And for the few that follow you, it’s like an intimate concert. Trust me I love an arena concert, but how nice is it to connect with an artist at a smaller venue? I always walk away feeling like I have a piece of their soul with me. You can do that too. The intimate venues are how you grow and prove you’re ready for the arena status baby.

Lastly, a woman from Houston Texas told me “You are the visual”. I said you know what, you’re right Bey, I’M THE VISUAL so I need to act like it and show up as my authentic and “niche-less” self. The aligned people will come and appreciate the visuals, but above else, I will never regret being me. Thank you again to my 11 subscribers. I hope you enjoy me and the Pause, Then Play. publication.

If you enjoyed this, please like and feel free to share with a friend who you think this would resonate with. You can also subscribe to read more of my “niche-less” articles.

PAUSE. Right as I was about to hit send to subscribers, I got a new subscriber notification. 🥹 thank you to my 11 12 subscribers. I know that was nothing but a confirmation from God! 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

Before getting started, let’s define what discernment is. It’s a hot word right now, but let’s ensure we are using it correctly. Merriam Webster describes it as the quality of being able to grasp or comprehend what is obscure. In spiritual terms, a discerning person is often labeled as a seer. I will use both words interchangeably throughout this article.

Being a seer is interesting to say the least. I love when I can discern when someone is safe vs. unsafe. It’s something I’ve known as a child, but adults around me suppressed it. I’m not mad at them because my discernment can easily turn into paranoia, especially as a child. However, I understood tone and body language well. Why? Emotional trauma. I can read the room. I knew when an adult was upset just from hearing footsteps across the hall. I didn’t hear their voice or see their face, but I knew trouble was afoot. I studied people not because they intrigued me, but because I knew when it was time for me to essentially, be quiet as a child.

Fast forward to early adulthood, it is still there. I see it often when dating. I paid the price for the times I did not adhere to what I was seeing. I wanted to prove myself wrong. Why? I’m sure there’s a reason my therapist can tell me, but I didn’t want to be right about what I was seeing and what my gut was telling me.

Pause. ⏸️ If someone was seemingly dangerously unsafe, I listened to my gut, but this is more so for the people who are emotionally unsafe.

Play. ▶️

I will never forget the first guy I dated after leaving home. Within 5 minutes of knowing him, I knew he was dangerous. Physically harm me level of dangerous? No. But I knew this man is not emotionally safe, still I was intrigued and I suppose I wanted to see the good in him. There was a lot of good in him, but there was a lot of reasons why I should have never dealt with him. I’m not upset though, through dating him I strengthened my discerning capabilities. I wouldn’t trust my gut to the extent I do today, had I not dated him for a couple years. In the end, there was verbal and emotional abuse, but there ended up being some physical abuse as well. I will say I didn’t realize until years later that someone grabbing you or punching holes in walls next to you was physical abuse, but it is. Had we continued, I’m sure it would have escalated to what most people consider physical abuse.

Whew! 😅 I’m not even to the part of why I’m writing this, but I suppose it is a precursor to what I would like to share.

I won’t spend too much more time on this, but I will say roughly 12 years later I met the same man again, different physical body. Charming, funny, but verbally and emotionally abusive. One night he drunkingly berated me and called me out my name and I began to see things. I sat there in what probably looked like disassociation, but I saw my future. I wanted to marry this man and while he had great qualities, I saw a life where this would be the norm. I saw a version of myself that would dissociate to survive his outbursts, but I also saw a version of myself that left and was happy. I couldn’t see what my life would like exactly, I just saw I was happy. Maybe I had a man, maybe I didn’t, but I was happy and free. Once we were physically apart a couple days later, I broke up with him. My discernment said we have been here before; as I seer I saw what life could be if I stayed and if I left. I chose to step into the unknown by leaving, simply because I saw myself happy. Fast forward ⏩ it’s been over a year and I’m happy. No man, no fat checking account, but I’m happy.

Around the same time I dated this man, I moved into a new apartment. The day I received the keys and opened the door, my stomach dropped. I ignored all the signs, signed my lease and as soon as I stepped into my new home, my body physically told me “no.” It was too late and while I made due, I counted down the days until my lease was over. Now, I’m in a new place and I felt joy as soon as I toured and even saw a butterfly when I picked up my keys. My body felt calm, safe, at peace. While it’s important to take note when it doesn’t, it’s important to take note when your body does feel safe. That way you can recognize the next time you begin to question things during decision making, this is a good feeling to move forward.

While my discernment has helped me know who and what are safe and unsafe, now it is getting stronger and I’m starting to notice people who are “safe”, but they’re stuck. They’re not inherently bad people, but they’re stuck and there’s nothing I can do about it. You know, the person who is perpetually pessimistic. I’m starting to see those people more clearly and limit my interactions with them. The life I desire is limitless, and they’ve allowed life’s hardships to place limits on them. While I sympathize with them, I cannot be in that headspace anymore. I also cannot share my hopes and dreams with them because often times they unknowingly project onto me, under the guise of protection. And yes, they don’t mean to, but just because someone doesn’t mean to, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I can’t afford for anyone to put a damper on my hopes and dreams.

WHEW! That was a lot and unexpectedly. I always write when I get the urge and I felt it in my bones, but I didn’t know how exactly it was going to come out.

I hope that if you are a seer or really great at discerning, that this reminded you to trust yourself. Below are some questions and statements I say to myself that may be helpful to you, when you’re unsure of trusting yourself.

1. Would you lie to yourself?

2. Why is this decision scary? Because it will ask more of you, or because it will hurt you?

3. If at any point after you say yes, you can always say no.

4. Even when you get it wrong, you’ll eventually course correct to get it right.

5. Have you ever felt this feeling before? Where in your body, and what was the outcome?

6. Are you fearful of something, or is there discomfort in the unknown?

7. Do I feel tense or relaxed when speaking to someone?

I ask myself these questions when it comes to any decision, something as big as a job or relationship, or as minor as to why I don’t want to leave the house. Discernment is my superpower and it just may be yours too! Lastly, this superpower has always been there, but all good things require exercise and practice. This didn’t happen overnight and while I may be good at it today, if I don’t continue to exercise and practice, I may get rusty and find myself in sticky situations again.

As always, thank you for listening. If this resonated, please share with a friend. If you feel inclined, like and subscribe for more. 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

As a single woman in my 30s, I’m very selective on who gets access to me in general, add sex and it gets REAL selective. Sex is vulnerable and freeing. I wear some sort of mask each day, so when I have sex, I don’t want to mask. I want authenticity, intensity, giggles, exploration and more. I will feel if someone is holding back or simply desiring to experience me, vs. getting to know me. With that being said, you see why sex with me is selective.

Anywho, I had an encounter with someone and they regulated my nervous system. Yes honey, REGULATED MY NERVOUS SYSTEM. For an entire month after, I was different. I walked lighter, I moved slower, I even brushed my teeth slower. It got me together better than Zoloft. Why? Because he assessed what I needed, which was safety and relaxation, and for a moment in time, provided me with both.

I’m an anxious girl, hence the Zoloft joke. I’m not trusting and I’ve been used by men with very good masks. I’m also an eldest daughter and a Black woman paying all the bills in this economy. If you get it, you get it. What is safety, what is relaxation? But with him, he let me have both.

He sat me down and we talked, mainly me. He let me get out all my awkward small talk about my day so that I could somewhat relax. It had been a while since I’d been with someone and he knew that. It had also been some years since we’d last been together. I could tell he was undressing me just by looking at me while I was talking. Not in a weirdo drunk guy at the bar way, but in the way of you have no idea of the ways I want to take care of you. Eventually, he pulled me in so we could get closer. He kissed me. He kissed me again while grabbing my neck. We kissed like two virgins waiting until marriage for about 20 minutes on the couch. Eventually we made it to the bedroom.

From there he started undressing me, but slowly. First my pants, but he left my panties on. I still had my bra and shirt on as well. He started slowly petting her as if she truly was a cat. Then the same way he kissed me earlier, he kissed her. Panties still on. I figured he needed help, so I start taking them off. He stopped me and said no, we have plenty of time. I internally said “oh” and let him continue to take the lead. He wanted to wait until both she and I were fully relaxed and ready.

Then, the tease. Now he has taken my shirt and bra off. Wait, I’m ready, she’s ready. Why go north I thought. He kissed every inch of my body. Each gaze up at me, I felt his eyes tell me I’m safe.

Finally, he takes my panties off. I’m naked. But wait, he’s not. Should I do more? I try to move, he says no, not with his words, but with his body. I obey. Yes, obey. Me? I obey no one, but with him, it felt right. He takes his shirt off and oooh he’s been in the gym, what a sight to see. He still has his pants on though. I wonder what this is about, but again, I’ve been obeying and he’s already told me we have plenty of time. So I stop thinking and live in the moment.

Pause. ⏸️ I’ve never written anything like this and I feel very vulnerable, so use your imagination please as I try to find a balance of explaining without exploiting.

Play. ▶️

I felt like an ice cream cone on a cheat day. Slowly devoured. Not one drop wasted. All while being pinned down in the gentlest of ways. Our hands interlocked and with each orgasmic release (yes, each), I gripped his hands tighter. I felt like I was levitating. I wasn’t in control of my body; for once it was being carried. It’s as if he knew every burden I was carrying and for a moment in time, they were being lifted by him. The arms that had clearly been in the gym could carry each burden I carry, so I could relax in his safety and fully indulge in pleasure.

He stops and proceeds to ask if I’m okay, I say yes. He knows damn well I’m more than okay, especially with the smirk he gives me. I lay there stuck and watch him as he undresses and grabs a condom. Yes, a condom, safety first and I’m not ready for kids. I think to myself damn. I look at the clock, it had been an hour. I say damn to myself again.

So we get started in missionary. I guess he’s not done looking at me and honestly I could look at him all day after that. I just laid there defeated in the best way. Not to toot my own horn, but I typically f*ck back. This time, I didn’t and I could tell he didn’t want me to either. The few moments I tried to f*ck back, he said no, I need you to relax. I obeyed again.

He stops. I think we are done. I get up. He said no, I’m just getting another condom. I said oh okay. He asked if I was good. I said yes. For a woman of many words, he left me with few. We start again, this time he holds me. Again, I feel light. Nothing in the world matters but us. No bills, no fears, nothing. He proceeds to tell me, I want you to manifest something. I say huh? 🤔 Remember, at this point in time I’m a woman with a few words, but my face says “what the f*ck do you know about manifesting?”. He says, nah, I can tell you’re about to orgasm so I want you to manifest something. I obey with delight. We finish. It’s as if he knew exactly what I needed.

Yall. In all my 32 years I had never experienced sex so life altering. I felt as if I was in another dimension. A dimension where I was honored and worries didn’t exist. It was as if I was frolicking in a garden, free and light. I felt this way for a month and we didn’t even have sex again. I was okay with it because I felt regulated after. Sure I wanted more, but I was so ecstatic that for a moment in time, I got to escape the hyper independence and let someone take care of me. I got to simply be and my nervous system thanked him for it.

Has this ever happened to you before? I think we as a society don’t realize how powerful sex can be, but in a positive way. Sex is a powerful way to release and deeply connect with someone. It doesn’t have to be a rush or one sided. If this hasn’t happened for you before, I pray it does. You deserve it.

Thanks for reading a side of me I normally don’t share, let alone online. If you feel called, please share this article with a friend and subscribe as I figure out this whole writing and Substack thing. 🫶🏾

“The death of perfection, is the birth of momentum.”

THE DEATH OF PERFECTION, IS THE BIRTH OF MOMENTUM. 🤯

I didn’t have the words for this season, but now I do. This year I’ve shared more on social media. How? I stopped overthinking and started doing. I told myself, “you can always get better once you get started”.

Pause. Um, wow.

I stopped chasing perfection, but instead I enjoyed the journey, which led me to more momentum. This momentum I now have, has led me to having more confidence and alignment; whether it be in my algorithm or real life.

I even think about how I grew my social media accounts. It’s not a lot, but growth is still growth. I simply did it. On Threads and TikTok, I made a point to not follow people I knew personally, unlike my other accounts I’ve had for over 10 years. Instead, I focused on following people who inspired me. From there, I started writing and speaking, because I didn’t have an audience yet. Not having an audience allowed me to be. I didn’t perform out of fear of others, I showed up for me. I shared things that meant a lot to me. I engaged and showed kindness to like minded individuals.

It’s really all that simple, but then again it’s not.

I had to do a lot of internal work to reach this place of sharing online. I might have started sharing this year, but it’s all been there, buried behind the fear of being perceived. I had to face shit head on; getting to the root of who I truly am, which includes getting to the root of who I am not.

Sometimes this is learning to be okay with losing people along the way, as I step into the woman I desire to be. Sometimes this is clearing the clutter internally that no longer serves me. Sometimes this is acknowledging that those closest to me, may confuse their protection, with projection. Even if no one understands, I can’t keep living my life for others. I have to show up for me, otherwise I’m a side character in my own life. “It’s my liiiife, don’t you forget”! 🎸

Posting is simple, but the journey to posting isn’t. It’s important to honor the journey. It’s important because it reminds you to show yourself gratitude and to inspire others along their journey. We may be in different points on our journey, but there are others on a similar journey that may need a gentle nudge forward.

I find it amazing when God gives me a download from a few words. A few words from someone else, led me to a moment with God and now a moment that gets to be shared with others. All of this from “The death of perfection, is the birth of momentum.”

Thanks for reading. Please feel free to pass this message along to a friend who too may need a gentle nudge that momentum is on the other side of perfection. 🧚🏾‍♀️💕✨

At the top of this year I was fresh off a breakup, one that was necessary and honestly a little scary. Breaking up with someone for their behavior and the person refusing to accept the breakup is rattling to say the least. If you’ve been there, then you know. Shortly after, there were fleas in my home, fleas on my dog and my car was giving me trouble. Mind you, the flea and car trouble happened in a matter of hours. I sat outside and sobbed for 30 minutes, in January, in the freezing cold. Crazy? Yes, but for the past month I had been going through the motions and trying to make sense of what happened in my relationship. Knowing I did the right thing, but angry it had to come to that. Angry my peace had been disturbed in more ways than one.

I tried getting out of my apartment, but I had no luck, so I had to wait finish out my lease in a place that felt disgusting and compromised. For 9 more months I lived somewhere I didn’t like. I had possums, lizards, raccoons, and neighbors who argued to no end. Your home should be a safe space, mine wasn’t. It was a constant reminder of how I chose to settle in 2024. I thought I could live in a cheaper apartment and boy did I pay for it. I thought I could make this relationship work and I realized I’d been sold a dream. Both were instances where I knew I could do better, but I thought to myself “no, this can work”.

In February I decided I’m going to move to a new state after my lease ended. I started looking for jobs in April so I could land a job by September. I received my first call back in September. No interview, just a call back. I applied for 5 months and nothing, just the standard rejection emails. By this time, I said I guess I’m staying here. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted everything new. I was telling everyone around me I only want to take what will fit in my car to wherever I move. I wanted a whole new life. God said, nah.

I was gutted and then I got angry. Angry that I have to do everything alone. I’m proud of my independence, but I’m tired of it. I look around and see the people closest to me having the things I too desire. I feel joy for them, but sadness for me. I want that too, why is it harder for me? And again, why do I have to do everything alone? And after a long day of working a job I know that’s not for me, I come to an empty home where I have to feed, clean and soothe myself. Then my phone dings! It’s another rejection email.

I wanted to quit life on several occasions. I was tired. Tired of doing it all alone. Tired of trying to bring myself joy and comfort in the midst of all this.

I kept asking God for change. I asked to change my mindset, change my finances for the better, change my job, change my city, change my love life. Something! I just needed change because clearly what I’m doing isn’t working and why? It wasn’t like I was moping around doing nothing. I was crying while applying for jobs. I was posting on YouTube and praying afterwards. I was moving my body more. I journaled like crazy to get it all out. I was doing things to improve my situation, but it still wasn’t enough.

I was carrying grief. A grief that I wasn’t prepared for.

Grief that no matter how hard you try, your life may not look the way you’d like it to look. Maybe it won’t ever look that way? Or maybe it will in due time, but for now you’ve got to find some joy in the “in-between” while also honoring that grief. Yes, I traveled and I went to concerts, but I also learned to find little joys like looking at the moon, replaying a song that made me feel good with no shame, saying “no” more often, and being mindful of the media I consume. These little joys helped me get through each day. I honored my grief through writing and acknowledging it’s okay to be angry. I went to a rage room and broke things. I screamed in my car a lot. I’m being vulnerable here on Substack. I’m also posting without the need to be perfect, but to be real. Besides, perfection comes with practice. This is only my third post, in due time I will find my rhythm

So yes, the “in-between” can be beautiful, but it can have lots of ugly days too. As for now, I’m in a much better place than I was a few months ago. I still have the same job, I still live in the same city, but I have a new place and a new mindset. For that I’m incredibly thankful, but also God, I know you’re listening, I’d love to speed up the whole multimillionaire, career freedom and love life prayer. Please and thank you. LOL

However, I remembered a conversation with one of my best friend’s about what do miracles mean to me, and a miracle is something that happens with minimal effort. So, I begrudgingly trusted God and decided to be still because while I’ve done a lot for myself, I want to experience something happening for me and with minimal effort. I want a miracle. I want the soft life. So, I’m in the “in-between” phase of life.

PAUSE. Let me make myself clear, this is a practice, meaning I’m not perfect. I still try to control things because that’s how I’ve run my life the past 32 years. I’m still working through the mindset of “nothing happens for me unless I do it”, but I’m trying.

PLAY. So how has life been since I’ve decided to attempt being still? Better than I could have imagined. At the top of the year I booked a trip to Bali. I remember pressing book not knowing how it was going to happen, but I felt this pull to simply do it, so I did. I put it on my credit card and prepared for the debt that would incur. I was ready to take it on, but I experienced a miracle. A portion of my trip was paid for through the help of family. I didn’t ask, but they offered to help eliminate my debt and this trip was included in some of the debt that was eliminated. Fast forward to August, I attended a women’s retreat in Bali with 12 strangers and had a blast. Through this trip I was able to connect with lost parts of myself and see a part of the world that my bloodline had yet to see.

While I booked the trip to Bali at the top of the year, the first trip I took was special too. I joined a new team at the end of last year and on this new team, I was able to attend a conference in Boston in February, unbeknownst to me. Something else I asked for at the top of the year was to travel to a new state. Without any efforts from me, God said, “I got you” and my job paid for my trip. Not only did I travel to the state of Massachusetts, but I also visited Connecticut, Delaware, and Maryland.

PAUSE. I didn’t “visit” those states, but I did pass through on my way to Washington, DC via Amtrak LOL. I decided to extend my work trip and visit DC for the first time.

I had been wanting to go to DC for years, but never got around to it. However, my 2025 vision board included to visit one new state and God said, “how about 4?”. All with minimal effort from me. Had I tried to control it, it probably would have been just one state. See what happens when you listen and be still?

A few other things happened this year, not necessarily on my vision board, but things I had been wanting to do. One of my friends asked me if I wanted to visit Terlingua and Marfa, Texas. I wasn’t sure what was in Marfa, but I had lots of Airbnb’s saved in Terlingua, so I said yes. This was a trip for the books! It was a complete nervous system reset. Terlingua and Marfa are the places to be when you just want to slow down, eat good, and connect with art. I left this trip feeling that God is even more real than I previously thought. I met people from all over, including Israel, and got to sleep in some of the most sought after homes on Airbnb. What. A. Dream.

Lastly, music. Since I was a little kid, I have loved music. One Christmas my grandfather bought me a karaoke machine and I’ve been writing poetry off and on since I was in elementary school. I even recorded my first ever song in December of 2024. I have attended concerts of legends and future legends this year. Some I made happen, others, nothing but God. God saw fit that I would see Janet Jackson at no cost last week, Doechii for free with a coworker in October and not to brag or anything, but… I DID SEE DESTINY’S CHILD IN LAS VEGAS NIGHT 2 OF THE COWBOY CARTER TOUR IN JULY. Okay maybe I am bragging, but all of these were nothing but God. I didn’t “plan” to see these artists. I would consider seeing them miracles because according to my definition, there was minimal effort on my end.

So why am I sharing this? Well I did have some wine, but also because often times in order to receive, we must be still. It’s hard to be still when we live in a society that tells us otherwise, but for my hyper independent girlies, God will still provide if you ask and sit still. Also, being “in-between” doesn’t mean “nothing is happening”, it’s preparing you for the “more” and the bigger prayers you’re still waiting on by answering your smaller ones. It’s as if God saying, let’s build trust together through the minor league, before I take you to the big leagues. Again, the wait or the “in-between” is the preparation for “more”.

Oh and don’t think it was all rainbows and sunshine, I’m still a human with lots of big emotions, disappointments, and confusion. Not everything I asked for came true in ways I had asked. We will get to that another day, but today, I wanted to share that despite it all, there’s still beauty, gratitude, and much to receive in the “in-between” while we wait for “more”. I hope this serves as a reminder to remember the good and to be patient as it all unfolds.

Often times we want a life of ease, or a soft girl era. However, in order to create a life of ease we must release something. You only want ease or softness, when there’s discomfort or harshness. What in your life is making you uncomfortable? What in your life is so hard? What is within your control that would allow you to change that? are you overwhelmed by something? That means you’re OVERproducing something. All of these words I’m using, describe the same situation; the load you’re carrying is too heavy. Hey Siri, play Bag Lady by Erykah Badu.

When things are heavy you have two options, but they both will result in some sort of release so that you may feel at ease.

The first option is to let something go. You look at everything you’re carrying and you realize this bag isn’t necessary. Or this bag isn’t even yours and you need to return to sender. Whatever the case may be, assess your baggage and decide what you need to let go of, cause you know these airlines be taxing! Some may be easy to let go of. Some may require a plan of action. Some can be outsourced to others aka “get somebody else to do it”. Do not let others’ perception of you stop you from releasing things that are weighing you down. This is YOUR life, not theirs.

The second option is to change your mindset. Maybe you’ve looked at your bags and realized, I simply cannot let go of anything. That is when a mindset shift is needed, nevertheless, it is still a release. What old beliefs do you need to let go of? Could it be that you often heard “you’re weak” or “you’re lazy” so when things get hard, you believe that’s why. If you feel overwhelmed, let me tell you, you are not weak or lazy. Instead, you may be over-performing to compensate and need to look back at option one. Regardless, you should change your mindset to “you are strong” and “you have the tools and capacity to succeed”. Maybe you’re carrying the mindset of “I have to do it all alone”. If that is the case, remind yourself that it is a blessing to be able to do it alone. Not to compare too much, but some people are unable to have any level of independence, but until you receive the help you desire, be grateful that you can be independent. Both of these examples help you release an outdated mindset or belief that no longer serves you.

So, what is stopping you from a life of ease? Take a look at the physical and mental baggage you are carrying and release them. It may not be easy, and there may be uncomfortable feelings when releasing, but trust that there is ease and room for more abundance in your life, once you do.

Now let the church say “Amen”.