I’m grateful that I responded and didn’t react. That’s growth. For the first time in my life, I didn’t respond in anger. I listened. I listened to my father say these things about me, and I was able to come to peace with the fact that I am finally choosing myself. If my father wishes to be stuck in his ways, so be it. I don’t need to be present in his life to continue witnessing his self-destruction and willingness to make everyone else miserable. There’s no peace in that relationship.
In later years, I would ask my father why he’d make such a choice. I grew up looking at photos in my grandmother’s house – our school photos sitting side by side and thinking, how could he ever deny me when I looked just like him? My father says this was never actually a thought of his – He says he made the decision because he was doing what I now know absent father men to do – continuing to deny his responsibility – now in the financial sense, and to make the woman out to be the offender.
Excerpts on Francois from my Journal 2017-2018 Without even trying, but due to my lack of discipline, I became a mistress. And I struggle with that. Francois didn’t tell me he was married in the beginning; but now, I know. I try to tell myself that we’re having a good time, but that’s not true.Continue reading “I Was Schooled in L’s – Part 3”
Francois sat across from me, staring into my eyes, as if trying to find the perfect lie he could craft that would make me believe him. My eyes rendered pain and frustration. He dropped his head to stare at his twiddling thumbs.
“Hey Mohammed,” I said, entering the deli. At this point of life, could Mohammed be my next husband? He already knew my needs better than anyone else did. I talked more to Mohammed than I did anyone else following the deaths of Bradley and my grandmother. “Jamila, beautiful! You want me to get your icedContinue reading “I Was Schooled in L’s”
To be sung to the Tune of Run D.M.C.’s Christmas in Hollis: It was December 23rd when I arrived at his house After 8 hours driving I was ready for the couch He said, “You’ll nap later. Come here, don’t play.” Then he put my ass to sleep right to the next day Woke upContinue reading “That Christmas L: The Bedbug Story”
If I were to pick up telling the story about Bradley’s final days, I would want to pick the moment up in the car. It took us quite some time to get to his sister’s house in Maryland, which was only about 4.5 hours away from our Brooklyn apartment. Bradley and I had developed aContinue reading “Part 2 – The Ultimate L: Losing the Love of My Life, Part 2”
Flashback to 2016, pt. 1 Today, I picked up my journal in an attempt to get my creative juices flowing and to write more stories. I prayed, “God, please allow me to land on a page of a story that needs to be told.” I knew not where my hands would wander. When my spiritContinue reading “The Ultimate L: Losing the Love of My Life”
Osiris. I can write novels about him. How we were children kissing in the back of the coat racks. The awkward teen years where we were too cool for each other. The reunion in 2018. The separation in 2019. The time in between. The moments after. But for now, I’ll talk about my layover inContinue reading “That Layover L Story”
I met Vaughn on April 7, 2019. It was Sunday afternoon after church – at the only esoteric shop that existed in Birmingham. We would also happen to be the only Black people in the shop. I noticed him the moment he walked in. He was tall – around 6’8″, muscular, with a mahogany complexion.Continue reading “That Birmingham L Story”