Dear Beautiful People,
Within the first hours of daylight, I’ve seen that you’re graduating, getting married, going on vacations, and traveling the world. I see you through your perfect pictures with inspirational quotes and giddy posts about how blessed you are. You have the perfect home and the perfect partner who surprised you with a puppy simply because it’s Tuesday. And you got hired for your dream career. All of this has happened to you while I’ve barely managed to swing my legs off my bed and have a cup of coffee. I didn’t get to see your struggle to see if you were like me. You know, sometimes crying and drinking simultaneously when you really need company but the world is intangible. Continue reading
I don’t see how you think that watching your brother-in-arms die on his deathbed is funny. He served our country and died for it, and you just turn your head. But that’s not the worst part. No, you go and dump me right outside the hospital room as he passes. What selfish person does that to a man? Loses his closest friend and then dumps him on the spot? I hope that one day you will be in the same spot that he was in. And that you’ll have to watch you friend’s boyfriend laugh as you fade away. Then you will know true pain.
Why is it that I’m always there when someone needs me? I am a very strong person, and I am very good at hiding my emotions, but at some point, things become too much for me to handle and I break down. I almost lost the love of my life to depression. When I finally broke down from being strong for him, and helping him get better, and saw that there was hope, no one was there.
I was told things like, “If he killed himself, you’d be over it in a week,” and, “No, he wasn’t serious.” When you are begging someone you love not to take their life in the middle of the night, I’d consider that to be pretty damn serious. No one took my feelings seriously. That entire time I suffered and I even considered ending my own life due to all the pain that I was in. It was excruciating and I felt so alone. Continue reading
Do you remember what you said when dad was on his deathbed? You said, “I was hospitalized too you know.” Well, I don’t f**king care! Sure you got some mental illness, but that doesn’t make you disabled or anything.
Dad didn’t get proper medication for his cancer because of you. He said, “Who’s going to take care of my daughters if I’m not home?” Well, if you had just stepped up and been a mother instead of a whiny b*t*h, he wouldn’t have died! You don’t even shed a tear for everything he’s done for you.
Now you’re burdening your old parents. They gave you everything that you don’t even deserve; yet you still yell and whine at them. I’m sick of being your mother, when you should’ve been that for me and my sister.
Neither one of us wants to be the first to say goodbye. The words to that song aren’t just for a romantic couple. You and I are platonic friends, and it seems clear that we have grown apart. We don’t talk the way we used to. When we do talk, the conversation seems forced, trite, and a bit superficial. Even your texts to me aren’t the same. They lack the warmth that they once had. Friends grow apart all the time, but I never thought it would happen to us.
You don’t seem to want to hang out anymore. I sensed exasperation from you the few times that we’ve talked on the phone lately. You have a horrible poker face and voice. I’ve tried like hell over the past few months to reconnect and re-bond with you. I know you must have seen all of my efforts. But you don’t often reach back, and sometimes you ignore my calls and my texts. Now I see why. You’re pushing me away. When you do respond, you are always busy on the dates and times that I propose for us to hang out. Whenever I asked you to tell me when you’re free, you have ignored me again and again. I’m beginning to read between the lines. Continue reading
I loved you so much. We got married and I expected that things would only get better. After all, we had a baby on the way. Then you started getting angrier than usual and you became more withdrawn. I was worried and tried to talk to you, but you insisted that you were fine. If you ever divulged anything during this time it was because I pried it out of you. It made me so sad. Then that girl came into the picture. You seemed better, but at a cost. She was all you wanted to talk about. You told me about her life and her shitty boyfriend. If it had to do with her, you were telling me about it.
It was almost like the baby and I were pushed to the side while you helped her out. All I wanted was to spend time with you, and to be with you, but she kept getting in the way. Then our baby finally came. Three weeks after the baby was born you decided to tell me that you slept with her. You told me that all of this time you’d been nervous about parenthood, and instead of telling me you told her. You got closer to her. Then you “messed up” and had sex with her. And when I got upset, you claimed that that’s what you were afraid of, and that you didn’t want to tell me for that exact reason. Continue reading
You’re all talking about this police brutality thing. But in reality, you’re all to blame for this. The NYPD risks their lives daily to protect us. But you’re throwing it in their face. Nobody, not any cop, just started shooting blacks out of nowhere. No. You guys gave them a reason to. You guys gave them a reason to fear for their own lives.
Me, a normal American teenager, appreciates what police officers do for us. I show them respect. If I’m pulled over I follow their instructions. If you have a weapon and the cop says “hands up,” you pick your freaking hands up. Respect what they’re doing. Respect their protection. Continue reading
I can completely see how frustrating it is that there seems to be unnecessary police brutality towards black people. But you also need to look at it this way: Would the police arrest them and even go as far as killing them if they weren’t doing something bad? It tends to be black people who are doing a lot of murders and who are involved in gangs and gang violence. Don’t always assume that the police are just randomly attacking black people because they are black.
Another thing is that many people (white people included) are saying that white people have never suffered. THAT IS NOT TRUE. Sure, we have less history of slavery and prejudice against us, but believe me, we go through the same crap you do everyday! If you think that the only reason a black person can’t get a job is because the employer/interviewer is racist or white, YOU ARE WRONG. You have to earn a spot in the workplace, and maybe they just need to work a little harder! Continue reading
Let me make something very clear about my position in America as a black woman, mother, and wife. I will not tolerate any unjust acts of violence against my family in ANY way, shape, or form. I have the right to bear arms, and I have vowed to protect my family and myself. Now if any man or woman, of any color or any position, should pose as a direct threat, please understand that I will not hesitate to defend my family. So before you pull me over, you better make sure that I broke the law. Because at this point, I will not give you a chance to harm me. I will shoot first because of the innate fear you’ve placed in the heart of the black family. Please believe, we won’t be a hashtag. I’m tired of peaceful protests, and I’m ready to take action.
I am sick and tired of the same narrative playing out over and over again across this country. A black person is killed over cigarettes, a bag of skittles, for selling CDs, etc., and the murderer walks. It grinds my gears that my father, a hardworking man who provides very well for his household, is followed home by the police because of the car he drives. They only leave him alone when the garage door opens up and they realize that he actually owns a home in that neighborhood.
It angers me that my two-year-old is growing up in a world where she can be roughed up or even killed for the most frivolous things. Things that would earn her white counterparts a slap on the wrist and not a bullet to the chest. And I am angry that I have to have true concern for my family. Especially my husband, father, brothers, uncles, and male cousins. I’m concerned for them day in and day out, in 2016, in America. I’m tried of the RIP hashtags, the pointless protests, and the destructive riots. I want people to be angry. And I want them to channel that anger into something that is conducive to true change.
image: ABC News