A draft from January …
Tonight I cried.
Again.
But this time on Instagram Live.
In front of people.
Ew.
Ghetto as hell.
(Ghetto ain’t the word.
But I wanna be associated with the word “weak” just as much as I wanna be associated with the word “ghetto” by people that don’t look like me. So I use proper English and carry my own burdens when I have to.)
What might be ghetto is the fact that I wiped my face with the closet thing to me…
… which was my old ass princess towel that used to belong to my sister.
It was that type of cry though.
And no matter how many other towels I own, I always come back to this one.
Cus I got real issues with letting go.
Y’all.
My face was red.
And my eyes were swollen.
Couldn’t even get my words out right.
A mess.
But then something happened.
One of my viewers called me strong.
And I was like, “How Sway?”
Cus I sure ain’t feel like it.
I felt weak.
And defeated.
ESPECIALLY cus I did this in front of people.
And now they would think I’m a simp.
Ci Ci’s ole bitch ass.
But to my surprise, they didn’t give me that type of energy.
Strangers, that don’t know me any more than by my posts and videos on the internet hugged me with their keyboards and smartphones.
And assured me that it was ok to cry.
Even the so-called strong people.
Tip: Let it out. If you hold it all in, where else do you think it’s gone go?
Sometimes a release is needed and we won’t even afford ourselves that because of how we may be perceived by others.
Well, you know what I’m learning about them Others?
That they could kiss my ass.
And think what they want to think.
What not to do: Don’t force yourself to be ok. Feel ALL of it. So you can release and let go.
Ain’t nobody else walking these steps of mine.
So yea, I’ve probably cried 32 more times since I first started this post.
And here I am, 32 cries later, feeling better than I ever have.
T-Cells up and shit.
I guess you could just call me a strong ass, feeling ass, cry baby.
That’s cool too.
+ Ci Ci +
I will go first. 