the quiet vocalist

…mom,

I am not offended at your goal to reach your family for Christ’s sake. It’s fine and a gallant deed. But the Bible also says to examine your own life. What I saw growing up was a monster and you holed up in your room, giving us excuses for why we were still here in a house that made us sick with a person who was emotionally abusive and constantly trying to use us. Those excuses would change once…

… about my Cycle VS Period.

I prefer to say “cycle” because she literally is your menstrual cycle which seems never ending, always sneakily showing up whenever she wants. Like flowers that bloom, close, and then bloom again. A cycle, but less happy.

And I have the worst symptoms, man. In fact, I have had all the symptoms. Unfortunately, this is my least favorite thing to brag about. Colds, fainting spells, vomiting, night…

Super yummy! I needed a sweet so I whipped up these good girls. The secret ingredient?!

*whispers* …cardamom.

How much?

*looks back and forth* Lean in…

It’s a secret.

…I would temporarily be obsessed with elephants.

So what started as a cute sketch in my tiny notepad, became a thing. Like a whole thing. Practice shades for the background, thick or thin for the outline. Stripes.

I then proceeded to unknowingly watch a highly politica film on Netflix called Catfight. That got me thinking: yes, I drew a blue elephant no I do not consider myself republican. Yes, the darker tones could signify struggle and…

…what it is like to be a victim.

She didn’t have to. Because I have two eyes and two ears. Because I am a young, petite, black woman in Atlanta, Georgia. Because my father is emotonally abusive and for some strange, delusional reason thinks he has power over the women in his life. Because I see my mom behaving as if he does.

Ever since my little mind could perceive and react to what my little ears could hear and my little eyes…