Good Girl Chronicles

Sunday, January 15, 2017

#LOLOSLOVELIFE: The 'Pretty Young Thing' Prt 1

#LOLOSLOVELIFE: The Pretty Young Thing Drug

‘Pretty Young Things’. When I first heard song the famous Michael Jackson song P.Y.T., I was a little girl. I remember thinking that MJ was talking about me. A super cute, pretty, young thing men would drool over. I thought when I was old enough to date I’d be a P.Y.T and I’d nab jerry curl haired guys who danced with glitter gloves. Hey it was the eighties. You’re lying to yourself if you didn’t think MJ was sexy in his black days. 

In my twenties P.Y.T was my cute nickname for non committal twenty something men. I even dated one for a few weeks who looked like Jon B. That is another story. I loved P.Y.T.s in my twenties. They were so exciting and free of responsibilities. In my thirties, not so much. At 32, all the P.Y.T.S I’ve encountered are sexy fuckboys whose minds run off sex, jerking off, and chasing tail. Call me ‘Bitter Betty’ if you want. But, I was taken on quite a ride by a few P.Y.T.S in 2016. I knew better. Early twenty something P.Y.T.S typically want no commitment, but their game is more advanced now. P.Y.T’S have evolved, and if you aren’t careful you can get addicted. Their drug is laced with a lot of slick talk and a lot of failed promises of love. It tastes so sweet, and for a second so sincere. The new drug P.Y.T.S use to take advantage of your heart and mind tricks you into believing they aren’t completely full of shit. I went cold turkey and faithfully kicked the habit of pursing P.Y.TS, that was until I met one called Suave. A twenty-year old whose favorite topics were eating pussy and himself. He was a real peach. He played the game in a way I’ve seen few P.Y.T.S do. His drug was a swirl of hidden kisses, swapped secrets, and all the magical words a woman wants to her like, “I miss being in a relationship. Your kisses are everything.” And the one that did me in, “I’m here for you.” I have to tip my hat to him. He got me good.

We met through a mutual friend and he had all the tall tales of not being on level. Every ass that passed by him had to be stared at, collecting numbers was a sport, and he salivated when he talked about pussy. Apparently it’s his favorite cuisine. And, in most of his stories women were dispensable. I should have shut it down then. On the outside, he was everything my eyes loved about P.Y.T.S He had light brown skin,a well groomed beard, and full moist lips. Don’t get me started on the sultry Snapchat pics I saw of him with a towel covering just enough to make me curious. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one of his followers fantasizing about what Suave was packing. I think he got off on tempting women he had no real desire to be good to. But his charm got me. Something about the way he looked at me made feel seen again. After months of being rejected and feeling ugly, the attention was intoxicating. Ladies this is why is so important not to date when you’re insecure. Even a little attention from man whores will flatter you.  Before long I was dressing super cute around him, and laughing like a teeny bopper when he said something funny. What the fuck was I thinking?  In hindsight I so wish someone would have slapped the shit of me to snap out of it.

Then, my curiosity started to get the best of me. Every time we talked, my eyes were drawn to his lips. I had to know if they felt as good as they looked. So like any attention deprived woman would do I made up a ridiculous reason to make out. For some reason he went for it, and for a good two minutes I was in lip locking heaven. I have to give it to the kid his lips made me slightly moist. Sorry for the TMI, but you must understand how intense it was for me. I hadn’t feel a spark like that with a man since my ex.  I was hella surprised it turned me on so much. Afterwards we both vowed to never cross the line again. But, like any drug the first hit wasn’t enough. I wanted more. 

If our situation were purely physical I think I could have kicked Suave to the curb super fast. This P.Y.T’s sweet poison was laced with some I didn’t expect, feelings. It was the emotional intimacy that really broke me down. I was intoxicated the minute he opened up to me about his trust issues, his desire to be in a healthy relationship, and his struggles. Most P.Y.T.S I’ve encountered want sex, and sex only. Once they hit it they don’t want to hear about your feelings, they don’t comfort you, and they certainly don’t share their feelings. The phones calls stop, the cute messages, thus the chase is over. I’ve played with so many P.Y.T.S. I know once sex happens it’s over. So when Suave started sharing real intimate shit, I let my guard down. 


Like most women emotional intimacy is what I crave most in a partner. My greatest lovers have been men who were emotionally free. They told me when they were sad and asked me to help. They told me gently when I hurt them and we worked on it. And, the best part they sincerely wanted to comfort me when I was in pain. One of the most tender moments I had with my first love was shortly after my mom’s breast cancer diagnosis. Facing death she looked at Mr. G.Q. (the love of my life) and said, “Take care of my daughter.” I ran out the house crying. He ran after me and under a sky of stars, he promised we’d beat it together. I still get teary eyed thinking about that. Emotional intimacy is a two-way street. God I adored that man. It was moments like that when I knew for sure we shared real love. Ok back to the drug pusher Suave.


Over the process of a few weeks, I found myself texting super deep shit with Suave till 2 a.m. He was emotionally bare. He wanted to understand ‘Love Languages’ and hear all the times my heart had been broke. The sexual tension intensified because I thought I had found a real confidant. It didn’t last long. He fell for my hot friend Beyonce.

Now, I don’t know the Beyonce Knowles ,but I like giving my friend this nickname cause she’s like the real Beyonce my friend can be painfully shy. My friend Beyonce is smoking hot. Like roll of the bed, don't do your hair hot. A gift I do not posses. And to top it off she’s white, blonde, skinny and has a fat ass. Most men’s fantasy. One day I hope she realizes this.
There was no competition. 

It was high school all over again. I was friend zoned and relegated to being the D.U.F.F. also known as the “ Designated Ugly Fat Friend“ role that I knew all to well about during puberty. My interest in Suave should have died there. I mean the minute my friend Beyonce flashed a smile at him, I was literally chop liver. And worse all he did was ask me advice about how to ask her out. I was 16 again, and playing Oprah to all my hot guy friends. I hated that role.  The fact I didn’t drop Suave after this is telling of my low self esteem at the moment. More on that later. So like any good side kick would do I sold my hot Beyonce friend a good pitch about Suave. I encouraged her to write him back and consider his offer for a date. She didn’t see what I saw, she rejected him, and I could see he was crushed.

After Suave friend zoned me for Beyonce I figured I should cut my losses. I deserved a guy who saw how fabulous I was. So I went into my ritual of getting over someone, a complete communication cut off. Out of sight, out of mind. No more seeing him in person, pushing myself to see other people, and trying to refrain from messaging him. I was doing good until our a mutual friend of ours, who I will call “Tall Drink of Water” (because she towers of me), invited us both to lunch. I tried as hard as I could to tuck my feelings away. I even wore an ugly outfit to show I didn’t put into effort into the “friend date”.

“Hey Lolo, you should sit by Suave,” Talk Drink of Water said. I begrudgingly complied. Suave brought his best friend, and before long it felt like a double date. Suave’s friend was talking about relationships, and over coming heartbreak. Suave had sex on the brain, bad! It should have disgusted me, but it excited me. Yes I admit I am cliche. There is something thrilling about pursuing someone you know should be off limits for you. It feels dangerous, and because some of his sexual talk was directed toward I felt desired.

Most of the lunch date I was trying not to look at Suave’s lips. I succeeded for the most part, but the tension reached a fever pitch when I felt his hand on my knee. He placed it right on the spot where I feel giggly and turned on. It took my breathe away and my mind went right back to that super tense first kiss. Somehow, I managed through lunch being more sisterly than sexual. But, that night we’d would break boundaries that left lasting cracks on my heart.

On a whim, Tall Drink of Water rented a room at a swanky hotel for a girls night. I so needed it to distract me from Suave. It would be me, Tall Drink of Water, and another girlfriend who got plastered way too early in the evening. It was so Sex & The City of us. We had drinks at a swanky bar and planned to stay up all night gabbing. Then Suave and his friend stopped up. I can’t say I wasn’t a little excited. He slapped my ass a few times, and dropped some hidden kisses. My mind couldn’t make sense of it. In true girl fashion I started over analyzing.  Does this mean he likes us? Is he just trying to hit it tonight? Should I push him away? Are we friends with benefits? WHAT IS THIS? When we got back to the room, we all started talking about sex. The tension was so thick I felt myself getting flushed. So even though I knew better I said, “Fuck it.”

to be continued.......


Monday, December 5, 2016

#LOLOSLOVELIFE: The Prince Charming Syndrome

#LOLOSLOVELIFE: The Prince Charming Syndrome

Sometimes I wish a Prince Charming would come and save me. He'd see beyond my heartbreak, messy life, negative bank account, and broken dreams. His love would restore my faith in the male sex. His strong arms would embrace my bulging frame, fat from antidepressants, and emotional eating. His eyes would see me for the radiant, beautiful, smart, loving, Godly woman I am. In him I would find a safe harbor, a trusting confidant, a friend, a lover like no other. When he leans in to kiss me, I feel desired. My sense of femininity is renewed through his passion for me. Then, just like those movies I grew up watching, Prince Charming would whisk me away to his castle. It's a place with no worry, strife, disappointment, or despair. All of my friends who comforted me in the wilderness would be there cheering for us.

I grew up watching romantic fantasies like this play out over and over again in Disney movies. Snow White, Cinderella, Little Mermaid, all women in distress who are saved by a handsome Prince Charming. My favorite tale is Cinderella. I still find myself applauding and cheering when Prince Charming comes and makes things right in her life. Girls nowadays have much stronger, independent heroines like Merida from Brave, and Mulan. These woman did not need a man to save them, they went out and did the saving themselves.


When I was young Disney taught me that men save women. My Southern upbringing only reinforced it. My mother and aunts would say, "Get yourself a good man with a good job and money." When I reached my mid-twenties they would say, "Don't you want to get married?"  When are you going to have kids?" 

And, my favorite comment, "Get you a man that loves you more than you love yourself." WTF. It was if I was not complete as a woman because I had not found a man to love me.

As a single, childless, damaged thirty-something woman I can see now I've been searching for someone to complete me forever. It all started when my father left........

I never knew my biological father. The story is he knocked up my mom when she was 19 and then wanted nothing to do with either of us. My mother rarely had anything to kind to say about him either. He was a womanizer, player, tempter, a dog. But, the comment that shaped how I view men the most is, "He didn't want you." That abandonment has played on my psyche since I learned that my own blood discarded me. I have longed for acceptance from men.

In my adolescence, I found the most joy playing with baseball with my male cousins, or being the comforter to all the guys in high school. Due to the Navy, my stepfather was never around when I was little. He gave us money, a house, prestige, opportunities but in my formative years he never gave me the type of fatherly love I so craved. He was distant, and cold. And, when I think back to my childhood, I can remembering fearing him, forced hugs, and awkward I love yous.

In my twenties the Tomboy in me gave way to a curvy, sexy woman. I fell in love for the first time, and in the arms of a beautiful bald, chocolate man, a void in me was filled. Mr. G.Q. loved me in a way no other man had. He listened to what I had to say. He played videos games with me. He taught me what it meant to make love. He rooted for me tirelessly, and whenever I was in need he was always there. I couldn't get enough. I fully expected us to live happily ever after. I thought that marriage would make me feel whole, complete, saved just like Cinderella. But the marriage never came. He cheated. I moved out, and went searching for the next man to make my fairy tale a reality.  I chased marriage with all I had. I stayed in relationships way too long, stayed when I should have moved on, and endured more than I should have. ....

Now in my thirties.. I've let go of the illusion of a Prince Charming... my heart just can't take that fairy tale anymore. I think it's time I do my own saving..... I want to love myself on in the valley and the peak. I want to know comfort in my own arms, and more importantly I've found a love greater than any man can give. When I realized that God loved me in spite of my bad deeds, ugliness, and mistakes it freed me from a desire to be saved by a man. What heartache has taught me is that man will fail you. He will piss you off. He will lie. He will cheat. He will use you. But, God's love is constant, enduring, and everlasting. In my darkest days, when the tears wouldn't stop flowing, it was God who rocked me to sleep. When everyone leaves, God is the still voice leading me through. So now my prayer is not for a man to save me..... It's not for a man to whisk me away from my pain or hardship. My desire now is for a man who try his best to love me flaws and all. I want a man who will laugh at my quirky humor. I want a man who loves like Corinthians says: patient, kind, slow to anger, never holding grudges... And in my pursuit of God's love I'm hoping he heals the hole of abandonment I've endured for far too long... to allow me to be the kind of partner I want to receive.

So farewell Prince Charming.... and the dream of happily ever after..... and hello to a realistic love....



 


Thursday, December 1, 2016

#FineFellasFriday: Kedrick Harris "Why Do You Fight?"

#FineFellasFriday: Kedrick Harris "Why Do You Fight?"



My first question for cage fighter Kedrick Harris was, "Why do you fight?" Why would you willing sign up to be beaten, hit, kicked, or worse in a steel cage? Why do you fight Kedrick Harris? What motivates you to fight?

I guess that question could be asked of any of us. Why do any of us fight? We fight to live. We fight to love. We fight for our country. We fight for a cause. We fight to overcome life's challenges. We all fight for something. Meeting Kedrick made me ask myself the same question. What am I fighting for? For Kedrick the answer to that question is deep, poignant and inspiring.

Over the course of an hour, I learned that Kedrick fights to inspire. He fights to be a leader. He fights in honor of his brother, Brandon Whittington, a 23-year old who was shot and killed before seeing Harris realize his dreams.

Harris met me at a Starbucks in Chesapeake days before his first title match for the Spartyk Fighting League in October. It was a beautiful fall day with a clear blue sky, light breeze, and sunshine. Kedrick was days awat from his first championship bout, pivotal fight in his career. But compared to the fights Kedrick has faced in his life a steel cage match is nothing. His toughest battle, was conquering the anger and sadness that nearly consumed him when his brother was killed.


"In the beginning, I was angry. I was angry at the world," Harris said. Kedrick's brother was shot and killed in a car robbery just days before his 23rd birthday.

"I was so sad, because I couldn't do anything." After mourning the loss of his brother, Harris wanted to do something with his anger, find a way to channel it into something positive. So at 19 years old Harris enlisted in the Army just like his brother once had. The life of service took him to a tour in Afghanistan, and Iraq as a diesel mechanic. Harris says it was in serving his country that he found meaning for his life, and came to peace with his brother's murder.

"I learned to live with it," Harris said. "I still think about it everyday. I think about our inside jokes too," Harris said remembering his brother. "Now it is what it is. I cherish his memories that we made, and I hope to make more memories like that with my son."

After serving nearly four years in the army, Kedrick worked as a contractor until his position was cut. He tried working as in waste management. While it paid the bills, it didn't fulfill him the way the Army did. It was in that moment, Kedrick decided instead of punching a time clock he'd chase his dream of being a cage fighter.

"I have always been a fan of cage fighting, and I thought it was a cool guy thing to do," Harris said. "So I said I'm going to give it a try."

Harris contacted a promoter and started training. It didn't take long for him to land his first match at the Ted Constant Center in 2014. Harris doesn't remember much about his first fight but he does remember the high he felt. A locked steel cage, adrenaline pumping through your veins, your opponent staring back at you; cage fighting was a roller coaster of emotions.
The mixture of nerves, fear, excitement, and anticipation was intoxicating. Instead of going back to a regular 9 to 5, Harris decided to make cage fighting his career.  With the help of family and friends Harris has continued to book fighting gigs. Since his first fight, Harris has raked up quite a record. He is currently 4-1.

 Harris ultimately lost his championship title in October to a former training partner, Ryan Nugent. But, he's still grinding and preparing for his next fight.

"I train constantly so I'm always ready to fight," Harris said. In time he's hoping that his career will inspire others to chase their wildest dreams.

" I want to be part of the barbershop talk," Harris. "I want to be what they talk about."

Kedrick's life is a testament to the power of never giving up. When he lost his brother. He refused to let the pain stunt him. When depression and Bipolar Disorder drug him down, he fought even harder to overcome. It's a beautiful testimony to never giving up on life, yourself or your dreams. Whatever match comes next whether it is inside or outside of the steel cage, I know Kedrick is going to give all he has. He has children now, a growing fan base, and platform to show others that they can fight too.

That's is what  being a Good Girl Chronicles #FINEFELLA is all about; using what you have to dream big and motivate others.

Thank you Kedrick Harris and Nile Owens for letting me tell this story.


Thursday, November 10, 2016

50 Fabulous Things About Me

50 Fabulous Things About Me : LOLO SLAYS
This is going to seem a little vain, and trust me I had a hard time writing 50 fabulous things about myself. Like a lot of women I struggle with insecurity. Sometimes I believe what the world says about me; that I'm lazy, crazy cause I struggle with depression, slutty cause I've made mistakes in love. On the days I remember what God says about me, I can carry my head held high. But, I am human and sometimes the judgment of the world, the guilt of my past gets to me.  On one particularly low day, I confided in a friend about my sadness and depression.


"I am nothing. No job, no man, no family.... I am nothing," I proclaimed. I could feel the hot tears streaming down my face I as heard myself say those words out loud. " I have ruined everything."


"None of those things have anything to do with who you are Lauren," my friend said. "Your value doesn't come from what you are right now, what you are wearing, what you own or don't own, or who is taking care of you. It what you chose to do with what you've got."

He's right. My friend has read my blog about my family's abandonment, my suicide attempts, heartbreak, mental illness, and homelessness.


"I want you to write me a blog that list 50 things that give you value as a human being. It can be anything with your imagination."


One a super low, depressing night this was a hard challenge, but here it what I came up with.



  1. I am a good writer.
  2. I am great public speaker
  3. I am a good, trusting friend
  4. I have a compassionate heart.
  5. I have the strength to forgive
  6. I have the ability to affirm others with my words
  7. I am a comforter
  8. I am patient
  9. I am kind
  10. I am good at applying makeup
  11. I am a good sales person
  12. I know tons about social media
  13. I can talk to anyone
  14. I make friends easy
  15. I am fast thinker and quick on my feet
  16. I am a good planner (ok I'm reaching here)
  17. I am a born leader
  18. I am ambitious and driven
  19. I am  hard work
  20. I work well under pressure
  21. I am good at memorizing things (I sometimes have photographic memory)
  22. I am wifey material (YASS BOO)
  23. I am highly intelligent ( I graduated cum laude from VCU
  24. I can dance.. well at least I think I can
  25. I am funny (note picture of modeling a blonde wig. I have a pink one too.
  26. I am a good big sister
  27. I once won "Most Likely to Replace Oprah" in a college superlative
  28. I can multitask
  29. I was once a television news reporter, production assistant, director, web producer --I've paid my dues.
  30. I am a fighter. (No matter what you say about me... I always get back up.
  31. I am sensitive
  32. I am an encourager
  33. I think of others before myself
  34. I like to help others and volunteer
  35. I am good with kids
  36. I can speak some Spanish
  37. I used to play the clarinet 
  38. I once worked three jobs and kept a B+ average in college
  39. I have the ability to take care of myself. I was independent for a long time before my depression got bad
  40. I can see the good in others
  41. I have an eclectic sense of fashion
  42. I have a quirky, unique personality
  43. I am a free spirit
  44. I take up for others
  45. I am accepting of diversity
  46. I have a diverse set of friends
  47. I have a nice radio/tv voice (I'm reaching again.... lol)
  48. I know that God is able and in control
  49. I am a conqueror
  50. I am beautifully and wonderfully made.....






While difficult this challenge made me reach down deep within myself... and remember I am beautiful, I am human, I am a woman of grace. Thanks for the challenge friend. Whenever I get down or  when the world's judgment becomes too much I'll take a look at this list... and remember I can do all things through who Christ who strengthens me. #IAMTHATIAM


Tuesday, November 1, 2016

#WomenWhoSlayWednesday: Dejah Jones "I Wish I Knew You" Part Two

#WomenWhoSlayWednesday: Dejah Jones "I Wish I Knew You"

This week's #WomenWhoSlay is dedicated to Dejah Jones, a 14-year-old Newport News teen who took her own life this year after intense bullying.  earlier this year. This is a continuation of a series about Dejah. I had the opportunity to hear Dejah's  story from her loved ones. I hope by sharing it with you, I do my part in educating others about the dangers of bullying. Read Part One here


After meeting Dejah's family at a Newport News Public School board meeting, they invited me to share my story. I had shared with Dejah's family that I was a suicide attempt survivor and I wanted to help them in any way I could. When they invited me to speak at her event it restored a sense of purpose in me. I felt if Dejah's family saw value in my suicide survival story maybe others would too. It encouraged me in so many ways. I graciously accepted.



Shortly before Dejah's event her grandmother sent me an email to iron out some details. Her words let me know that God brought me through my storm of depression for a reason. And, I believe that reason is to share with other there is always hope.


"You are a testimony to many that there is a better day," Dejah's grandmother wrote. "I wish Dejah would have known you."


Those words leapt out of the computer screen into my heart. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I read and reread her email.


"I wish I would have known her too," I responded.


I sat there in my front of my computer screen imagining if I had known Dejah. What would I have said? What words would I have used to comfort her from the bullies at school? How would I make her understand that it does get better?



I know exactly what I would have said. I would have embraced young Dejah, and told her I felt her
pain. As far back as middle school, I was taunted, teased, was even sexually assaulted on a school bus. Kids joked me until I cried. Two boys cornered me on a school bus and felt me up. No one did anything. When I told on the bullies, they called me a tattle tale and the bullying intensified. I still wear the scars of relentless bullying. 

I told my parents every cruel thing they said about me. I wrote my feelings down in a journal. I cried myself to sleep. I dreamt of running away to escape the pain. I know your sorrow Dejah.  The deepest scars I carry from those years of bullying is a continuous struggle of insecurity. I know your pain Dejah I do.

But, bullying is so much more intense this day and age. With the advent of social media, bullying has gone viral. It is pushing our children to depression, and worse suicide. This is why I feel so compelled to keep telling Dejah's story to as many people that will listen.


Dejah Day 2016
Dejah's family held her celebration in the picturesque River Farm Park in Newport News, Virginia. It was a gorgeous day; clear blue sky, a sweltering sun, and plush green grass as far as the eye could see. Dejah's family and friends were taking cover from the intense summer sun under a picnic shelter.

 Pictures of Dejah in happier times decorated the entrance of the shelter. I walked up to the welcome booth, and for some reason I was nervous. I've given dozens of speeches as a television reporter.  I wasn't speaking as a reporter, or a motivational speaker. I was speak as a suicide attempt survivor, an overcomer of depression, a mental health advocate. It felt so much more personal.

It was my second speech on my mental health, and I wanted to be sensitive to Dejah's loved ones who were still mourning.

Me and Dejah's Aunt
Before I was called to speak I had time to connect with Dejah's family. I took funny pictures on Snap Chat with her aunt. I laughed with some of her younger relatives. I met the first responding officers who were called when Dejah passed away. I hugged her grandmother. I broke bread with Dejah's Pastor. It was the kind of access I never would have been granted as a reporter. It felt authentic, raw, and it felt like family.

I felt at home in their midst. Dejah's family did not know of the rifts in my own family. That day with them felt so warm and loving. I may have been there for them, but in so many ways they were there for me there.  I wish Dejah could have been there, surrounded by people who loved her. But, I know she was there in spirit.

When it came time for me to speak, I needed no script. It was just me about 10 children, and a dozens of adults staring back at me. I shared with them how depression pushed me to the lowest moment in my life. I spoke of the suicide attempts, the despair, the sadness and how God dug down deep and pulled me from the darkness. I spoke of the so called friends who left, the lovers who stopped called, and the t.v. industry that abandoned me.


What I remember most about sharing my story with them was the power I felt in voice.



"I am a survivor."




"I am hope."



"I am worthy."



Looking into the crowd of faces, some people looked shocked, some looked sad, some simply nodded. I'm sure many wondered how a woman with so much going for her lost her way. That is the struggle of depression and mental illness. After, I was done talking so many of Dejah's friends and family hugged me, prayed for me, and thanked me for sharing my story.


"You have a powerful testimony," they said. "You are an inspiration."



I responded, "God is good. God is good."



Speaking at Dejah Day was a huge part of my healing. It strengthened my voice as a public speaker, and inspired me to keep sharing my mental health journey. I also decided that day to tell Dejah's story to show others the dangers of bullying and to bring awareness to suicide.

Dejah I didn't get to know you on Earth, but I'm committed to telling people the beautiful spirit you are.



"I wish I knew you...."

Dejah's family started a non-profit called No Dejah Vu, which seeks to educate school and teens about the effect of bullying. Go to www.nodejahvu.org for details. This is the link to the No Dejah Vu Facebook Page.









T