Steak and Mashed Potatoes

Ladies, what happens next when you find out you were the side chick…


We live in a society where the fetishization of being the side chick is at an all-time and high and these women do not care. So, when they find out they continue being the mashed potato beside your Filet Mignon ass. Most times they already knew they were the mashed potatoes but were satisfied with being on the plate so long as the gravy was poured upon them.


Me however, I am about to go off. (not-so subliminally)


(Dodging Bullets was tbr first but the questions in my advice inbox needed this answer)


Being that I have enough going on in my world, when I had the time I decided to engage the person I was sleeping with in a deeper conversation. To my surprise the response I received was, “well, we don’t speak much anyway, so why now?” In this moment, after having had sex with this person three times, I had realized I was being hoed. (Side note: sex is casual in the lifestyle of a hard-working person, male or female, and although the busy person may not have made anything exclusive in most cases the sex is, exclusive.) My response to this was, “oh. Okay. Bet.” Infamous. So few words, with so much meaning. I backed off.


When we bumped into each other out and about I would spot him first and make sure to stay away. Until that one time when I was entering a door he was exiting and made an awkward exchange of acknowledgement through a half hug. In the times in which I did not see him at all, he spotted me and made sure to send me a text later in the evening. A ‘wya’ or ‘wyd’ or two heart eye emojis, just a few simple words that all mean- ‘I am hoing you’. The correct responses were: ‘In my bed with my legs closed like a good Christian woman’, ‘Minding my business’, and ‘Thanks’. I needed him to understand that, the sex was never happening again.


The first time, was sweet and just as I expected. The ‘second’ occurred when he drove his silly ass to my house and got swerved with the ‘I am on my period’ but not really line.


After all this I kept our contact strictly via social media, aka Snapchat. Whenever I decided to watch snaps and came across his I would occasionally comment on whatever was posted. I mean, that is how most millennials engage with their friends today. That’s when out of nowhere, he tried to ho me again. Via snap-


After declining the dick pic. Less than twenty-four hours later he posted a shout out to what may or may not be his girlfriend. (no confirmation on this nor do I want one) The status began with “I can’t believe it has been a year” I didn’t read much after that, I simply scrolled through the photos, recognized her from an event he brought her to, realized he hadn’t been out of the country exploring as he pretended he was when conversing with me, and then I read the comments. Because as women, unfortunately, we are forced to be part detective. From this I managed to realize, he had hoed me far worse than I ever thought. He had made me an unwilling side chick.




Someone that had prided in being the Filet Mignon was some damned Mashed Potatoes.
I know what you’re thinking. Where is she going with this? To be honest I had no idea either so I went and asked a few friends- what do you do? I text the first person that came to mind, the co-founder and brain behind The League and I text her: “YOOOOOOOOOOO, screenshot 1, screenshot 2, screenshot 3” I watched the three dots in the bubble form on the page. She responded with “Niggas ain’t shiiiiiiiit.” I had proceeded to tell her how bad I felt and that the situation I found myself in was foul. That I would be in my right mind to slide in the woman’s dm’s like “Woman to woman…” My friend stated that it would be in everyone’s best interest for me to fade to black before I blacked the fuck out. I text another friend too, and she gave me the same advice- you never know how someone would take that information and you don’t have to see either of them anyway. I mean, do you even know her? No. So that is his problem not yours.


I took her advice. Still, I could not just let it go. I felt some type of way about him feeling as though he had this much game to pull some shit like this. Especially with me. How disrespectful. How toxic. How disgusting! So, I waited a few days and then I went back and screenshot the last snap exchange specifically for this article. Then I deleted him. Snap is too personal for me to have just any old body on there, watching me. Emphasis on old body.


In lieu of this I stayed away from any event that I felt or knew he would participate, which pretty much meant everything in the city that I enjoyed. Until one night I linked up with a bro who was with his bruh and we all went out together. My friend was celebrating her birthday and we were supposed to link up before heading out- there was some confusion and God intervened for a reason. The moment I separated from the fellas and stood near my friend, the woman from the shout out approached her. I fell back against the wall and sipped my drink sideways. We were not introduced, praise Jesus! My friend, with her intuitive ass, looks back at me and as she bids the woman goodbye. She asks me what’s up. I was sick.




I made my way towards the door and she stopped me. We sat at two bar stools and I let her know I needed to leave. Her intuitive ass and my empathic ass had an understanding and I gave her hugs and wished her a Happy Birthday before I made my exit.


The following weekend, my sis comes to town to get her hair done and of course we played catch-up. In this I had to tell her about this situation as well and having known me the longest, I knew what she would say. Unlike my new friends, she posed the question “What would you want the other woman to do?” In my case(s) the other women already knew they were the Mashed Potatoes so I never expected any of them to contact me ‘woman to woman’ because they weren’t women. Just Mashed Potat-hoes. She was right but I knew I could not and would not ever have this conversation with that woman. Why ruin someone else’s happiness? My only issue is with him. Making me into a side. And having the audacity to put another woman in the position where she would make decisions for her future not knowing about the ugly present and or past. I was not afforded the information I needed that would have persuaded me to make better decisions, a life built upon lies had been chosen for me and this is what is haunting me. That my lips are sealed. Concealing the information that may help another woman.


This same weekend, I end up out after celebrating a fellow Virgo and while I am having pizza to end my evening, outside the window within clear sight is the woman from the photo. Jesus, why me? My throat has been aching ever since I found out. The meditation and crystals isn’t helping this one. My spiritual advisor told me to eat some food to assist and my pastor told me to pray for the man and the woman.


Ladies in The League it is imperative that these situations are discussed. We all know somebody that knows somebody that knows somebody. The ugly truth always come to light and so long as you’re on the up & up, stay strong! Ladies that have posed the question, what do you do? Do what’s best in your situation, if you know the woman break it down for her, if you don’t and you don’t feel comfortable speaking: drop subliminals (lol) and/or pray.


A week or so goes by and I receive a text from an unknown number. The last message sent to that number was a ‘Thanks’ and the last text received was two heart eyes. I knew who it was. I chose not to respond. This new text that stated, “Are we not good?” is what led me to write this…



Stay woke, Stay strong, Stay tuned #TheLeague


I can recount the details as if it happened yesterday. Loving. What it felt like to be in love and to have full faith that it was protected by God. That nothing could ruin it and that no other woman or man could penetrate it. I’d been consumed by the love that I felt surrounded me and I wrapped my unconditional love around another being. We play fought and roasted each other often to keep comedy and humor in the relationship, I even play bickered and nagged because the relationships on TV had them and we lacked that sense of petty. The arguing was always dramatic and his responses were always comedic. I woke up every day to the face of the man I knew I would marry someday. I went to sleep every night on the chest of, and listening to the heart beat of the man that I knew loved me as unconditionally as I loved him. Time away from him drove me up a wall and all I could think about being away is how my body would react when we were in each other’s presence again. I was happy. Happy to also know that he was happy. Without a shadow of doubt, I knew that he was faithful. I was secure in my looks and in my ability to be who I was in this world. I knew I was great and that he came from greatness so we would always be great together. I watched him breakdown and cry. I watched him grow. I know the gritty details of who he was. I knew his goals, dreams, desires and stood by him as he chose to pursue those things. When he fell down I was there lifting him up and ensuring that he was good. When he was without something I made sure to pick up the slack. We fucked often and made love too many times to count. We role played. We did everything under the sun. We snuck into movie theaters. We smoked weed. We cursed people out; he held me back, I calmed him down. When I was sick he nursed me and when he was sick I nursed him. We were there for each other.

Then something changed. Time went on.

I can recount the details as if it happened yesterday. Hurting. What it felt like to be betrayed and to be embarrassed by the one human that you had faith in. That more than a few women had come in between the love we had for each other. We argued every day. Sometimes we would yell so loud that we could not hear what the other person was saying. I worried. I worried every time he left the house if he would come back and hold me. If he would be back on time for dinner. If he would return and get straight into the shower. I’d been consumed by loneliness. It swept over me like a thief in the night, stealing my joy, happiness, confidence and bright outlook on the future. The arguing was dramatically painful, it was like I was in a Lifetime movie that Tyler Perry directed except there was no reconciliation. I woke up every day to my enemy. I went to sleep every night with my eyes focused on my enemy whose back was turned to me. I knew he didn’t mean to hurt me, he didn’t mean to burn me, he didn’t mean to lie, he didn’t mean to forget who I was or where his heart lived; he meant to look out for himself and the expense was my love to which no longer had value in his world. Time away from him was a weight lifted from my shoulders. I was hurt that he was content with his actions, that he was un-phased and that he could not see nor feel nor hear the pain that he caused me. After I forgave him, without a shadow of doubt, I knew he was still cheating. I was secure in my situation and fearful of what awaited me outside of it, so I stayed. I felt ugly on the outside and the more I tried to make sense of the situation, the uglier I became on the inside. I was drained. I had been his battery, his chargers and his crutch for years. I gave him money that never went towards paying the bills. He watched me breakdown multiple times. He watched me move backwards. He knows the gritty details of the psychotic break and he received the brunt of it. It was his comeuppance. He knew my goals, dreams, desires and took away all of the things that fueled the energy for me to pursue them. When I lost other things and people, he was nowhere to be found. At the bottom of it all; the true bottom; where you can’t see anything around you, anything in front or behind you and too afraid to look up, there I was alone.

Then something changed. Time went on.

I can recount the details as if it happened yesterday. Leaving. What it felt like to finally be free and to be alive again. To walk away from the things that no longer served me. That more than a few successes awaited me on the opposite side of this pain. The love that God had for me was greater than any love that I would ever seek or need from one of his creations. Sometimes I would plan a dramatic exit in my mind but there was no need for that; it was more so an escape. God introduced me to another of his strongest soldiers. She introduced me to a young man, who introduced me to his best friend and when it was time these two young men helped me leave. I rented a Uhaul. No longer fearful of strangers, although still hard to trust, I had a light conversation with the man. He was from the East coast too, I told him I was moving away from hell. He charged me $19.95 for the six hours I had the Uhaul. Before moving I requested that the former love of my life move his things from off of my furniture- I leave with what I came with. To my surprise our living area was spotless, everything was in its right place- he had made an effort. I cared for a split second before I threw his things on the bed we had shared for years that had now be contaminated with the sweat, hair, and bodily fluid of another. I grabbed all of my shit, not thinking to pack- everything went in the Uhaul. His mom came home with her boyfriend and asked where I was going- she said she’d miss me. She introduced herself to the two young men, paying special attention to the one that looked like he lived in a gym. I didn’t correct her flawed thinking. Everything was out. My linens off of the shelf he built me, my shoes off of the shoe rack we put together, my junk out of the headboard that now disgusted me, my bookshelf, storage shelves, dresser, mini fridge, clothing and sanity were finally safe. I had forgotten my Hookah and the little things around the house, but in that moment the only thing that mattered was freedom. It was more than a weight off of my shoulders. It was my mind being freed from being held captive by lies and deception. His text to me upon returning home was that he had not expected me to take everything, he was under the impression that I was simply moving a few things to my mother’s home. How bold of him to believe I’d stay knowing he had begun another relationship while we still shared a living space and while he pretended to still be there. In my new space. We tried to reconcile, I tried to ignore the hurt and hopeful that time away from me would show him that he would miss me. It did not work. I had already wasted a year trying to repair what I had not broken. I spent five more months after moving out, trying to believe the words that he told me. On February 14th 2016 a Vermont Teddy Bear was delivered to my mother’s home, he made me believe it was he who had sent it. With the note, ‘You deserve so much more’. He meant I deserved more pain, which he delivered. In that month, I gave up for the first time in my life and that was hard. But I was safe again. Still alone, I wept and prayed. I was finally free.

Then something changed. Time went on.

I can recount the details as if it happened yesterday. Excelling. I graduated from College. No big deal. I wrote my first article on LinkedIn for Generation Now. No big deal. I had solidified my position as a Prevention Specialist. No big deal. I traveled almost everywhere. No big deal. I made deals and learned to follow through. No big deal. I bought my website. No big deal. I made life long connections with people from a different world and background whom I was under the impression that I should not trust. I trusted them, and it led to my being recognized by those who were making a difference in the Cincinnati community. No big deal. I positively impacted the lives of thirty-seven young girls. No big deal. Why? I stopped myself one day and looked in the mirror. Why? I asked my reflection. Why are you downplaying your successes as if they are No big deal? This is not everyday normalcy. You are great! I wept. I’m great! It turns out, I wasn’t free. I had only been freed physically. The psychological and emotional toll that the previous relationship had on me was still a burden. I recognized it and confronted it. In place of his downplaying my successes, such as mustering up the courage to perform spoken word live in Northside; the inner ugly had surfaced and took his place to demean me. He had never been satisfied with me and now it was me who would not be satisfied and would not congratulate myself on my achievements. My mind was shackled to negativity. The smile I expected to return to normal was not there, or it was faked daily. The confidence I had been raised with and embraced and projected upon others was not there. That strong soldier. The God sent young woman had shown me how to get it back. Initially I perceived her hype man presence as mocking. In reality, it was encouragement and an example to follow. I became my own hype man. Every morning I woke up to kindness and love from and for myself. Every evening I went to bed with me and my successes and my hopes and my plans and my dreams. It was a big deal. I was active, I was living again and I could not get enough of it. Traveling between suburban and urban areas. Networking, with sweaty palms, I spoke to other people. I began to trust strangers again. Cautious and aware; but trusting. I recreated myself. From nothing and nowhere I was someone and going somewhere. I hid so well, in plain sight.

Then something changed. Time went on.

I can recount the details because it happened just yesterday. Actualizing. I planned often, I dreamt often, I spoke often and I prayed more than often. I knew where I was headed where I was going and each time I made it to ‘here’ I stopped to take a breath in the form of a vacation. In just a year I had become a manager, I had begun two after school programs for young girls, I had become a content writer for a start-up marketing firm, I had become a blogger for a non-profit, I had been accepted/welcomed into different organizations, I had received a scholarship from one of the oldest and largest women networks of American History, I wrote and had encouragement from a fan base overseas and at home. When I reach my ‘here’ I take a moment to breathe, to reflect and look back at where I was. I prayed for this, I worked hard for this and I stayed true to breaking the chains that held me back. I looked back, I read over that first paragraph to remember where I won’t ever be again. I look back to see just how far I have run. My network, my mentors, my friends recognize that I move swiftly. Not too many know the why. I have been running for so long, and I have no desire to stop.

Self. Love.

Relax. This isn’t your typical piece on how important self-care is. This is a simple list of ways you can practice self-love.

1)      When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself how awesome you are. Be thankful for the ability to see another day and then tell yourself again to get up and go get it! (If the Lord so wakes you, do not insult him by returning to a slumber state. An idle mind is a conquerable mind.)


2)      When you see your reflection in the mirror upon waking up, greet the person looking back at you with a “Hey Handsome!” or a “Good Morning Beautiful!” Most of us tend to scoff at the unruly eyebrows, ‘Dwight’ around the lips and/or sleep in the eyes. Embrace those things, be the first to acknowledge your true self.


3)      Rub on the areas of your body you don’t like or feel can be enhanced or changed in some way. As you rub those areas tell yourself how much you appreciate them being there. Example: Rub on the butt that you believe is too small in comparison to the botched built booties! Love that booty and tell that booty that it’s perfect for your figure.


4)      Instead of paying someone else, break out your old foot bath or sit on the edge of your tub and soak your feet. Go to work (on Myra’s toes) on them with your pumice stone and dead skin scraper. Add bubbles for your piglets to play in! Massage them. I know you’re wondering about the hot towel wrap. Pro-Top: Run the hot water until it’s steaming, soak hand towels in the dangerously hot water and wring them out wearing gloves (kitchen/cleaning), it’s just like you’re at the salon. Side Note: this applies to men as well, crusty feet doesn’t make you more manly.


5)      Spend some time alone. See what thoughts arise without the influence of social media, the television or any of your friends. Alone time could be meditation, reading a book, curling up with a furry animal and talking to it like it’s human, deep prayer etc. (naps don’t count) Pro-Tip: Take yourself to dinner and then to the movies (Date Yo’ Self!).

Practice some self-love today

Black Woman for God-

The melaninated depiction of myself, bowing before God. Vulnerable, ready to be used for his purpose. Eager to give to the world and shamelessly doing so as she asks for guidance.
Her bareness shows she is unashamed and proud to share his glory. She has surrendered every inch of her being to Christ, like a newborn baby fresh out of the womb. She speaks to her father.
He listens.
Her wild hair is a collection of the needs of her brothers and sisters. It is a representation of the African roots from which she descended. Alas!
It is a metaphor for how powerful she is. Black woman. Untamed, uncontrollable and indescribable.
On hands and knees planted in faith, she sees with no eyes, hears with no ears. For she is the replication of God’s grace.
-Star Candelaria 2.9.17
Artist/Artwork: Cvlismv

The League (TLFO)


The League of Female Owners

Come one! Come all! Ladies, Women, Panty Wearers, Thotty-O’s, Girlfriends and left-hand ring bearers; Gentleman, Boys, Bros, Boyfriends, Players, Thugs and left-hand ring bearers.

We, The League, have re-opened the arena.


 It has been said that there is a point in a woman’s life where she goes through a phase of trying to figure out what type of man is for her, but no one ever defined what that phase is or the standard. So, The League decided to create the standard instead.

When the average person thinks of dating, we typically think date- to work towards marriage. Then there are others who think of dating as a game though. A game of baseball and they play the field. In turn, we hear ‘dating game’, and we think basketball.


But when members of The League of Female Owners discuss basketball, we are seldom talking about NBA teams. So, now we talking teams?

Yes, we are going to ‘talk teams’. The League has taken a different approach and is saying this about the phase. The standard is: Do. You. Boo. Boo.

But, if you want to become a part of The League of Female Owners then you must first message @millennial_star via twitter with, I pledge allegiance to the league. 

Draft Day Luncheon

The next steps are as follows:


Step One  Scout out a few recruits for the Madness. Scroll through your phone, bait and switch via twitter, join bumble/soul swipe/tinder, you could even go the old school route by going out and meeting people or a simple “Hey big head” sent via text. Once you have recruited some players proceed to step two.1

Bait and Switch


Step two  Get to know your team, find out what gets them going, what hinders them, become one with each player knowing that it is necessary to be besties because of course they are in the league competing with not only their teammates but other teams created by The League. Know them well enough to know when to move them and which recruits will make the cut. This is the trickiest step because you don’t know which way this phase is going to go, should you run into any issues please follow the guidelines outlined in 2.1 through 2.5.


Guideline 2.1: Should you end up getting to know a player that just isn’t cutting it, cut him off. Do not try to trade him either, we don’t want him in any part of The League. Cut him off. Should he get picked up by another team elsewhere, so be it. But no trading.

Guideline 2.2: Should you end up with the player who always wants to be on the field but has no experience. Bench him immediately. You make sure he is the one carrying the water for the other players to drink, he is heating up the bench for when the others get tired and/or he is simply sitting on the bench and never talking to the coach or the owner.

Guideline 2.3: If you have a player who is always bragging but doesn’t actually produce or put any points on the board, he is automatically second string. He may only leave the bench if another player gets tired.

 Men's Faces

                Guideline 2.4: If you should become annoyed or tired with any of the recruits be sure to put them in the stands. If you bench them there is a chance that you may get pissed off at another player and become petty enough to induce competition by pulling that annoying bench player onto the court; don’t be tempted, simply move him to the stands.Guidelines Broken

Guideline 2.5: Should you get to know each one of them and find that none of them should be playing on your team. Send them to the sidelines, and whether you want them court side or nosebleeds is totally up to you. Figure out a different recruitment strategy.


Step Three  Now that you know your recruits it is time for you to place them into their positions. No need to actually study basketball ladies, I’ve got you covered- Please use the reference sheet2 provided below:

*Point Guard = Chris Paul/Russell Westbrook

*Shooting Guard = Kobe Bryant/Dwayne Wade

*Small Forward = LeBron James/Paul Pierce

*Power Forward = Blake Griffin/Kevin Love

*Center = Dwight Howard/DeMarcus Cousins

Player's know


Guideline 3.1: Choosing your Point Guard. This player will be the one whose only goal is to keep you happy no matter what it takes. This player will laugh at your corny jokes, play victim but also hit you hard with the comebacks keeping a smile on your face and possibly waking you up with good morning texts every day.

Guideline 3.2: Choosing your Shooting Guard. This is the position that must be studied hard; and evaluated on a consistent basis because this is typically your most valuable player and is also the one who is calling the shots. Usually the one putting up the most points and typically offensive in their prowess. This player will also be looking to score as many points as possible, but will make you feel as though he is controlling the game (even though we all know who owns the team).

Guideline 3.3: Choosing your Small Forward is intense because this player is often moving too quickly for you to keep up. Which is why we advised you to learn all players prior to. He is typically the one that is down for anything, when you move, he moves, when you call, he comes and when you want to see him, that is where you will be at any given time.

Guideline 3.4: Choosing your Power Forward is going to be the easiest thing to do. You won’t even have to think twice about this player. He is dependable. You can call on him at 5:00am two cities away and he will come get you. Hell, you could be conducting private lessons at another players’ personal court and he would come get you from there. His rebounding skills are A-1. This is the player who is committed to the team period.



Guideline 3.5: Choosing your Center. This is also one of the easier tasks because choosing this position is solely based upon the shallowest of all things, looks. This player is the one the people refer to as Big Fella. You will recognize him when you’re recruiting because you won’t be able to stop discussing with other owners how strong he is, how tall he is and how flexible he is. You can bet on him.


Step Four  Once you have established your team, you have become official in The League. You can link up with your girlfriends or other owners and discuss thoughts on players, look up player histories, and you may even write in (@millennial_star) for a second evaluation of your team. Most owners compare their players to other players in The League to see how they match up on a local, state, national and international level.


Some women might have more than five players, which is okay because you may need some bench players. Please read the following guidelines:


Guideline 4.1: In the event that you have more than five quality recruits that you want to keep as players. Bench them. Simply keep them motivated enough for them to keep trying while also making sure that they are aware that they are bench players.3

Second String

Guideline 4.2: Trading is valuable and will encourage you to change your requirements for recruits. Your views may change while you’re participating in The League and it is natural that you grow in personal development as an owner. The end goal for most owners is to win the championship and get a ring. For other owners, it is about the recognition and avoiding retirement.


Guideline 4.3: There is no such thing as too many bench players. There are going to be times when you have to bench your starters, dismiss players to the stands, ban players from the arena and sometimes you may even have to ban them from The League.

Guideline 4.4: If you find yourself in the middle of the season and you are being pressed to conduct recruitment, be open. You never know what type of other talent is out there. Besides, not one player on your team has gotten you that championship ring yet.


Guideline 4.5: Be patient with your players, assist them in developing their talents as often as you see fit and are able. Keep track of points and thoughts, process these with other owners. There is a high possibility that one of them will get you that championship ring or that you will make a trade and the player will be traded and get that championship ring for another owner.


Step Five  Throughout the entire season, make sure that you are having fun. Don’t just participate but be involved, attend other games and kickback with other owners. At the end, when you have won that championship ring, you may end up trading all of your players to one of them. You are in charge of your team, own that. Set your standard.



1The league does not accept men found on Christian Singles, Match, Sugar Daddy Arrangements or Black People Meet

2 The reference sheet was not created or intended for women who actually watch and love basketball/NBA, the players chosen in reference were only researched by position. No current nor former NBA players have anything to do with this article.

3Bench Players are a variety of recruits ranging from long distance pen pals, entertainment but never taken too seriously

4Banning players from The League is to be taken seriously. This discussion is to be had between a minimum of two owners and once a player has been banned they cannot return to the league for two years

*No member, player, owner nor sponsor of the NBA nor the NBA as an entity has any affiliation to this article. Photos derived from the internet of celebrities who also have no affiliation. Promotional graphics were approved by those for the sole usage of this article. The League, is not real. 


A Word for Young Ladies Who Resemble Me

There comes a time in life when you are shown you are an adult but told that you are still a child. Like, when you are staying home from school to work so that you may feed the family. When you stay home instead of playing with friends to watch your siblings while your parents party. When you are still expected to get good grades and focus in school when you haven’t had an ounce to eat or an hour of sleep; because sometimes the gunshots kept you up and low.

Drafted as an adult to only be talked down to like a child.

Queens 2

What is the meaning of it all?

Are you an adult or a child?


Answer: You are, a mature young adult.


That’s your new title and you should wear it proud. Say it aloud! While you also shout to the world about how you are a Melaninaire be sure to tell them that you are a mature young adult Melaninaire (for clarification).


Melanin 2

At this point in your life, which 99.9% of you reach before age 15, you will come to understand confusion. You will experience fear and anger on the Richter scale. You may even come across more than your fair share of emotionally traumatizing experiences such as severe whoopings or being told that you are not this or that.

Through it all, you will come out on top. You will overcome. You will succeed.


You will wake up and look in the mirror once you reach paying bills type of adulthood and see that you are one of and amongst the strongest beings to ever walk the Earth. A black woman. You will feel empowered because you will know that it was your determination that pulled you through and through.

The only handout you may have received was probably due the next day but you didn’t and won’t allow that to deter you from accomplishing any goal you set for yourself. It’s hard to set goals and reach for the stars when your view is covered by brick mansions, I know, but don’t stand in the same spot. Move to a different level so that you may see the stars in the limitless sky; because you are limitless.


❤ A limitless, mature, young adult, Melaninaire ❤


*If there are words you’ve never seen or do not understand please use a dictionary or google. Read! Be on the lookout for Melaninaire

The Secrets Out

  One evening at the Johnson household when Josiah was supposed to be setting the table, he was preparing himself for the speech he planned on committing during their daily family dinner.

        Downstairs he heard his mom calling for him,

“Josiah! Josiah, the table isn’t going to set itself!”

“Ask Jamaal, he isn’t doing anything and I’m getting changed since I got all dirty at my game earlier.”

Downstairs his mother rolled her eyes up to the ceiling where she heard the footsteps of her other son, Jamaal, coming down to take Josiah’s place in setting the table. Julia’s husband, Johnathan, entered the kitchen where she was adding her finishing touches to her Meatloaf.

“Hi Honey.” Johnathan said as he kissed his wife on the cheek.

“Did you finish up all of the work you needed to get done tonight?”

“Yes, I actually got a little more accomplished than I thought I would”, he replied as he looked up and noticed Jamaal, “Hey Jay, where’s Jo? Isn’t it his week to set the table?”

“Sup’ pops, and yea it is his turn but you know pretty boy had to wash up from his game.” Jamaal responded sarcastically.

“He played for like three minutes, if that. How dirty could he have gotten in less than five minutes?”

“That’s enough of that. I don’t want you two taking it any further, my child is a great football player and he is a pretty boy, yes, but at least he washes his hands before dinner.” Julia said as she began placing the food on the table and turning her nose up at her son’s dirty hands. Jamaal threw his hands in the air then walked over to the half bathroom to wash them.

“Germs all over the damn silverware, I should have known his dirty ass forgot to wash them again. Now I have to set the table, if you want something done…”

“You do it yourself.” Johnathan finished his wife’s sentence and grabbed her for a kiss. “My hands are clean honey and I will reset the table.”

Josiah was at the top of the stairs listening to his brother and father go on about him, thankful that his mother cut them off before they could hurt his feelings any more than they had. He took a step back, rethinking his plan, maybe he shouldn’t, but he needed to and walked down the steps to greet his family.

“Hey mom and dad.” He said as his parents turned to look at him. Julia dropped the bowl of broccoli onto the floor and Johnathan’s eyes bulged, Jamaal was standing still in the doorway of the bathroom with his jaw dropped.

“Josiah, what is that?” Johnathan asked his pretty boy son who looked more like a pretty girl at the moment.

“This, this is me.” He said as he walked towards the fallen broccoli and began picking it up piece by piece. “Sorry I made you drop this mom. I’ll make some more.”

Julia was still standing there, frozen in the moment of time from when she first laid eyes on her son, her eldest son, wearing a skirt and a blouse. It wasn’t Halloween, it wasn’t a prank, it wasn’t a decision he made when he rolled out of bed one day, he said and it is true this is me. She felt her husband’s hand on her arm guide her to the head of the table, robotically, she walked to sit in the chair.

“Honey, look at me. Honey, breathe, you need to breathe.” Johnathan said attempting to call his wife from her catatonic state.

Julia turned to look at him and tears began rolling down from her eyes. Images of her siblings flashed through her mind, she could see her brother so vividly but could not process what Josiah had just said.

Johnathan turned towards his son.

“Look what you did Josiah. You made your mother cry, are you happy? Why would you do this? You play football, how are you gay? I don’t understand, please explain.”

Josiah pulled the freshly cooked broccoli from the microwave and sat down at the opposite head of the table, across from his parents.

“I am gay. I have always been gay. I like boys. I also prefer to wear clothes like these. Clothes labeled as ‘Women’s’ or ‘Ladies’. There have also been times that mom would have me in Sephora for hours and I would dip off and play around in the makeup”, Josiah replied, “Oh, and Jamaal I really do enjoy watching Lifetime Movie Network.”

“On bra! Oh na, you’re playing! LIFETIME?!” Jamaal yelled out in disbelief.

“I th- th- that’s not the important part.” Julia began between breaths. She straightened herself up ad began speaking directly towards Josiah. “I think that you may just be confused and-“

“No. Mom. I am not confused and for once I am thinking clearly. I have been having these feelings for a long time and I felt like I had to hide to avoid disappointing you or dad. I signed up for football and watched it with Jay every time a game aired. I was afraid, but after today and after I saw that e-mail. I now know that I am okay.” Josiah defended himself.

“What e-mail?”

“The e-mail on mom’s laptop. Stop acting confused. I mean, you all had me believing a lie for seventeen years but not anymore.”

“When did you get on my computer?” Julia asked.

“What is he talking about ma?” Jamaal chimed in.

“Nothing. Son, please go to your room. We need to have a private discussion with Josiah.” Johnathan commanded Jamaal.

“No, he can stay here. I am not ashamed and neither should you all be. Jamaal deserves to know the truth just as much as I do”, Josiah said to his parents, “I want the full details.”

“The truth is, we never wanted you to know or feel some type of way about your origins,” Julia began, “Or your birth parents.”

“WHAT?! Bra not my brother?” Jamaal jumped out of his seat.

“Sit down Jamaal!” Johnathan commanded.

“That explains the payment confirmation e-mail but I know there’s more. Continue Mom.” Josiah said as tears welled up in his eyes.

Julia opened up about the adoption process while her husband held her hands in his. She began with the day she found Josiah wrapped in a blanket on their doorstep with a note attached. She stood up and went to her desk drawer, unlocked it and pulled out the note that read,

Sis, I can’t do this. I can’t raise a child alone and I see why she left us but the way I felt about her and the way I feel now are two different things. This little boy needs a loving home and a man to raise him. You and I both know that my brother-in-law is fully capable of doing so. I apologize if this will be a burden to you but please do not give him to Child Protective Services, if you do that then I may never see him again. I will be back to see him on his 18th Birthday, by that time I should be steady and he will be mature enough to understand. Please take care of him and do not tell him anything because I will, once I figure it all out.

“Your dad, my brother, he was gay and he… he ended up on the streets. He was selling himself for drug money, back when crack was big in the ghetto and he died of an overdose on another drug four years ago.” Julia confessed through tears.

Josiah stood up and walked over to where his mom was sitting. He crouched beside her and they embraced one another. Johnathan stood and wrapped his arms around both of them while Jamaal sat back, still in disbelief.