Baby mama drama!

The story I’m about to share is one of reclaiming my strength and setting myself free. It’s the foundation of my spirituality, the dirt that allowed me to grow into the garden I am today. To reach your highest self, you must confront your darkness. So, let me start by thanking the lames and haters who tried to throw dirt on my name and make me lose my sanity. As you can see, y’all didn’t do a damn thing but make me love myself more.

This is a real ghetto love story. It begins in my "trap queen" era when I met a guy. I met many guys at that time, but this one stood out. He wasn’t a romantic love story—he was more like a special friend with benefits. Yes, I’m keeping it raw and real. I had first met him at 19, but back then, I didn’t think much of him. Years passed, we’d see each other in passing, and that was that. But in my mid-twenties, he started showing interest. By then, I was in my “Sex and the City” phase. I firmly believed every woman deserves to be pleasured by a man who genuinely wants to please her. This was my moment.

The catch? He had a baby momma. But from what I knew, they were co-parenting, not romantically involved. I thought the coast was clear. His baby momma had her own thing going on, and I figured she wouldn’t care. She wasn’t my friend—just someone I knew in passing. And honestly, I thought women like her, who played games and did pick-me antics, were big girls who owned their actions. So, I thought she wouldn’t care if I had my fun. Clearly, I was wrong.

What started as a one- or two-time thing turned into a months-long connection. The chemistry was undeniable. Looking back, I could’ve asked more questions or read between the lines. But I was focused on my experience, on my sexual exploration and enjoyment. For the first time, I was with a man who prioritized my pleasure, and I wasn’t going to let that slip by.

We had our fun, but things took a dark turn. Early in 2021, I got a friend request on Instagram from a profile with my name and a nude I’d sent to him as the profile picture. My heart dropped. The page had several of my intimate photos and was following people I knew—friends, family, and professional connections. I was humiliated, betrayed, and furious. Who would do this?

When I confronted him, he was just as shocked as I was. That’s when I learned about his baby momma’s true nature. She’d gone through his phone, taken my pictures, and started a campaign to humiliate me. This wasn’t just pettiness—it was cyberbullying on a level I’d never experienced. Her reasoning? She was doing it for fun. That’s what she told me when I tried to resolve it like adults.

She wouldn’t let up. Every week, she created new accounts to harass me, recycling the same pictures and following my networks. I was stuck in a nightmare. At first, I was consumed by anger and shame. I felt like I couldn’t escape the humiliation. But then, something shifted. In the depths of my despair, I turned inward. I realized that I had no one to turn to but God and myself. And that realization marked the beginning of my spiritual awakening.

The harassment went on for over a year, but instead of breaking me, it forced me to confront myself. Why was I so affected by her actions? Why did I let her dictate how I felt about myself? Slowly, I began to see her actions for what they were: a reflection of her own insecurities. And instead of retaliating, I chose to rise above.

I found strength in meditation and prayer. My meditation practice deepened during this time. It became my lifeline, my sanctuary. Through meditation, I reconnected with myself and my worth. I stopped hiding. I made my Instagram public again, refusing to let her or anyone else control my narrative. I reclaimed my power.

Inspirations like Rihanna reminded me to embrace my sexuality and view it as empowerment. I thought of ancient Roman and Greek statues—naked and beautiful, celebrated for their raw humanity. Why should I be ashamed of my body? I decided to own it. My nudes weren’t a weapon to be used against me—they were art, a testament to my confidence and self-love.

What hurt most wasn’t the pictures. It was the betrayal, the pettiness, the lengths someone would go to bring me down. But instead of retaliating, I leaned on karma. I knew God’s “lick back” would be better than anything I could do. So, I focused on my growth.

Through this experience, I transformed. I went from being a naive girl to a wise woman. I discovered a deep love for myself—my mind, body, and soul. I became unshakable. I realized that I was truly that girl—a force to be reckoned with.

Today, I look back on that time with gratitude. It taught me resilience, grace, and the power of self-love. I’m grateful for the dirt because it helped me bloom. And to the baby momma who tried to knock me down? Thank you. You showed me just how strong I am.

I’m high maintenance because I demand the best for myself. I’ve learned to love myself deeply, to respect myself fully, and to stand tall no matter what. The journey wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. And now, I’m unstoppable. Thank you for making me high maintenance.