When you read this post, make sure you are playing Beyonce's Don't Hurt Yourself. That's been the soundtrack of my life for a minute.
I reinvented myself on January 29, 2020. I had to. Didn't want to, but I had to. I looked in the mirror and saw the depressed, tearful, and desperate woman I had become since September of 2018. A woman who whored herself for six nuts and a dream home. A woman who built self-esteem from the frequent hugs, kisses, and words of love from people who didn't even know who they were.
Standing behind that woman, however, I saw my grandmother. An exact copy of Granny's face sits on my backbone. As I straightened that backbone out by inserting rods of self-respect into it, I remembered who she was- sweet as can be, but unfuckwithable when you weren't serving her.
Then I thought about my name. Doretea. Given to me by my father. He made the name up, and I've been teased about it all my life. I hated my name. That stupid name Daddy made up. But on January 29, 2020, I heard my Daddy's voice say, 'It ain't made up; it's original. I gave it to you and broke the mold'. It's time to break the mold, Doretea, I declared to myself.
I stood up straight and made a Plan B. Both Plan A and I got screwed. I decided in this second phase of life, mother did not come to play no games.
Join me on Facebook on July 4 and find out what life from here on out will be about for me.
Now, take that Itunes player and put it on Ice Cube's No Vaseline....you got it? Yeah, that's it. It ain't over...come back on July 4.