Love

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Butt…

[caption id="attachment_1003" align="alignleft" width="149"]Me in 2014, around the time of the Brad Jackson incident.[/caption] An old college classmate smacked my ass in a diner a few years ago. I didn't know this was considered sexual assault until recently. His name was Brad Jackson. He was one of the first people I met at Southern Connecticut State University after transferring from Florida Agricultural & Mechanical University. He was friendly to me when I didn't know many people at my new school.…

Greatest Regret of All

[caption width="281" id="attachment_894" align="alignleft"] Photo: Me and "Michael Jackson" in Los Angeles in 2007. / [/caption]When I lived in Los Angeles, one of my favorite places to visit was Mr. Chow, a Chinese restaurant. I liked the dark lighting, the walls lined with mirrors, and the fact that I could bump into Lindsay Lohan on the way to the ladies’ room and “Carlton Banks” at the bar. The food was pretty good too. The first time I visited the restaurant, the waiter came…

Behind the Story: Miss Light

I don’t really feel like I can take credit for writing the “Miss Light” story because it came to be while I was half asleep. Saturday night around 3am, I experienced sleep paralysis and woke myself up exerting so much energy trying to turn over. “Write about your friendship with God,” a voice in my head said. “What?! How the heck am I supposed to do that?” I thought back. “Don’t worry, I got you. Grab your notebook.” And out…

Miss Light

[caption id="attachment_883" align="alignleft" width="260"] Getting ready to go out; staring at my own image.[/caption] My friend Imani invited me to spend the weekend with her at her apartment in Harlem. “You should definitely go,” said Miss Light, my most supportive and oldest friend. She was energetic and optimistic. She smiled bright and could light up any room. “Imani’s never invited you to her house before. You should definitely go," she repeated. “Okay,” I said. “What are you going to do this weekend?”…

Getting Over My First Love – Part 6

[caption id="attachment_420" align="alignleft" width="338"] A photo from when I went to visit Michael[/caption] “Is this Stacy?” “Yes, who’s this?” “Stacy, this is Jessica. I know you went to visit Michael in St. Louis, and I just wanna' know why the fuck you would do something like that.” I took my phone off of my ear and stared at it. "What did I get myself into?" I thought. “Uhmm…” I said, trying to figure out what to say in this situation.…

Getting Over My First Love – Part 5

[caption id="attachment_270" align="alignnone" width="2629"] Picture from My 21st Birthday Celebration![/caption] I was sitting in the waiting room at Bad Boy Records. Someone from the finance department was supposed to meet me for an interview for a summer internship. My palms were sweating. I was thinking about all of the interviewing techniques I was taught at FAMU’s School of Business and Industry. “State a few facts about the company, then ask your question.” That’s what I kept trying to repeat to myself,…

Getting Over My First Love – Part 4

“I would have done the same thing,” my friend said. She tried to make me feel better about having an abortion. She was the one who drove me to Planned Parenthood. She told me not to look when we passed the group of protesters holding up signs of gruesomely disfigured babies. When it was all over, she was the one who drove me to her house, helped me lay down on her futon, and fed me fish sticks and French…