What my first heartbreak taught me….

At a very young age, I learned to carry the weight of heartbreak and how detrimental that can be to a child’s development. You can say that my first heartbreak started with my father. I noticed his absence at an early age. Father’s Day, daddy & son school events, countless birthdays, and performance recitals manifested, and so did the empty seat I saved for him. It was the first time a man ever broke my heart. You can say I learned then how much the phrase “niggas ain’t shit” really hit before its growing popularity in modern-day society.

When we talk about romantic partners, there are rarely men who have truly “broken” it. Maybe bruised a little but never broken. After countless high school to college dating experiences, I learned to find better habits as to how to navigate the powerful niggatry that lies afoot with certain men. However, nothing prepared me for the summer of 2022.

I dated a young man for a few months. It was my first time being courted, cherished, loved on, and desired. We shared new moments of art, food, music, and film. He and I both worked retail, so our schedules were hectic, but then again, it also worked out for both of us because we made time for one another. The ending to our story came briefly before the fall arrival when he told me that he didn’t think a relationship was something he could handle due to financial responsibilities. Chile…now you would think I would be ready to go in on that ass right? Nah. I didn’t budge. Hell, I didn’t even lose a wink of sleep. I sent him on his merry way and proceeded to do me.

UNTIL….

He came back wanting to recant everything he said a week prior. And me?

Yeah, this is the part where you can call me a silly ho, go ahead.

YUP. I took his ass right on the back. Your boy was missing him real bad, and I knew his reason was semi-a-load-of-bullshit. But I also knew that whatever he needed to do to stay on his grind, he could do it with me by his side.

My silly ass…

A week went by, and it felt like it was almost impossible to reach him in a way I once did before. I'm not talking phone/text/FT communication, but I'm speaking emotionally. Something felt off. So, I addressed it as calmly as I knew how and spoke what was on my heart. I told him about my past anxiety about being ghosted, the feeling of will they/won’t they, and so much more. Did I mention that I said this in a voice note so that nothing could be misconstrued? And guess what?

He blocked me.

Not just any block.

FLO voice “SOFTTTTTT!”

I was hurt, y’all. I mean, how could he act like he didn’t know me? As if our summer romance was just a bad Tyler Perry series with no substance, zero plot, and bad wigs. It was brutal. So like the typical Sagittarius that I am, I cried. Then I raged. Then I cried some more. Then I waited. I waited some more. I held out longer than I thought I would. I visited old photos, I prayed for his return, and I plagued my best friends about this more than numbers could count. I cried, lost sleep, ate, drank, danced, partied, confessed to strangers at bars, wrote letters, wrote songs, and I crashed out.

Then….I woke up. Realized he was never coming back, and I went on about my life.

Soon after, I penned “Waiting”. I laid out my bare feelings on the canvas and told my truth about where I was. I didn’t want to write this song. Hell, I discard it immediately after. However, it just kept coming back to me over and over and over again. The chorus line “Going against the grain of who I am, so I’m waiting” is the rawest shit I have ever said. My genetic makeup has never allowed me to sit around and wish for someone to come back. A bitch might be hurt, yes. But waiting? Must be on that white like Othello. I write anthems about leaving/walking away so many times, so for me to give all of that felt like a gigantic contradiction. Yet, it was true. It was real. That was my life for the fall of 22.

THIS heartbreak taught me not to get lost in fairy tales too quickly. I’m a Disney kid, so naturally, I think all love is similar to how they write Princess stories or those NYC romance movies, where in the end they eventually fall in love. This is real life. Shit happens. People suck. Life goes on, and you're left picking up the pieces. I was blinded by the things that were laid in front of me—all of the red flags that were shown early on. The late arrivals for dates or the absent phone calls for days left me waiting. (just to name a few) It taught me to have my guard up at all times. Everything is touch & go, and nothing is physical. My first heartbreak taught me to start with the love for myself before I give it away. I was willing to let the red flags blink in my face while continuously hitting the snooze so that I could get my perfect daydream. It was after this heartbreak that I felt myself growing into who I am. This heartbreak taught me that blindness can end up costing your life.

Bitch, you better wake up.