It's been weeks since I've been free. I was able to get back in contact with my therapist. I see her regularly, at least twice a week. More times, if needed. I've also gained a larger following on social media. However, that comes with positive and negative. I got so many people wanting me to tell my story and then I got people who hate me for "almost killing" DaBaby and being a "snake ass friend. "The latter makes me sick.
What's crazy is I never wanted to be in the spotlight like this. I knew I would, especially being with Jonathan. But I didn't expect it to go this far, me being known for attempting to murder him. I expected the girlfriend and babymama posts—y'know all the bullshit drama The Shade Room be posting about babymama beefs and shit. But to have my mugshot posted and be called a "killer" was crazy. Especially, how I'm painted to be the villain in the whole situation.
But shit. I have to use social media to my advantage. Social media is a life changer, and I need my life to be changed, again, but for the better this time. It was time to actually tell my story. I have a feeling that somewhere out there someone can relate to what I've been through.
I clicked the "Add to story" button and watched as the image became a part of my story on IG.
Deze afbeelding leeft onze inhoudsrichtlijnen niet na. Verwijder de afbeelding of upload een andere om verder te gaan met publiceren.
I was anxious after making the post, so I turned my phone completely off and hopped in the shower. By the time I get out and redressed, it'll be close to 9.
The steaming shower helped to calm me down a lot. I kept my eyes closed and the rainfall shower head cascaded water all around me. I adjusted the temperature a little to mimic an "end of summer start of fall" rain shower. I also talked to myself while just standing there.
I placed my phone on the mini ring light and coached myself before I clicked the button to go live.
Avoid conflict. Answer no questions. There will be extremely negative and hurtful comments. Don't pay them any attention. The purpose is to tell your side of the story, that's all. Be truthful. Tell it exactly how it happened. Stick to the story and that's all. Don't bash anyone. Just tell your story.
I took a deep breath and exhaled before clicking the button. Instantly my viewers count was in that thousands. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath before speaking out.
"Hey y'all. Tonight is the night I tell my story. What you're gonna hear tonight is what I went through. This is just what I experienced. Nothing more or nothing less."
I tried to ignore the comments rolling in as I continued to talk. It'd be a lie if I said I didn't see what some of these people were saying. It'd be a bigger lie if I said it didn't get to me. But I held my composure as I spoke my truth.
After a long two hours, I said everything I needed to say. "What you've heard is my experience. From the beginning until right this very moment. Thank y'all for watching, goodnight."
I ended the live. And let out a huge sigh of relief. I've said what I needed to say. And now I can move forward in my purpose. While this situation was tragic, it obviously happened this exact way for a reason. And I plan on using my freedom to my advantage.
After giving myself a minute to debrief after the live, I walked down to the kitchen to find something to snack on. I rummaged through the pantry, until he spoke out, scaring the hell outta me.
"Fuck you doin?"
"What it look like?" I rolled my eyes.
"Goin through my shit."
I chuckled and closed the pantry. I ain't finna deal with no shit like this. I brushed past him and went back upstairs. I'm not about to let this mothafucka think he got control over me.
It's not good living here. What happened between us ain't done shit you come back from. It ain't like we fought and shit. I tried to murder this bitch ass nigga. There's no way this'll be a healthy household. Shit will never be smooth with us living together. I have to get out of this place.
I laid in my bed, thinking hard. I tried to figure out what I should do. I'm conflicted. I want to live with my baby, but I can't live with her father. There's no way he's going to let her live with me. So what do I do?
