Bringing back the joy of spilling my every aching thought on the internet.

— Biiiiiiiitch….

You wouldn’t even believe the stories I have to tell you.

A (non-exhaustive) list of what’s happened since I’ve been gone:

1. My identity was stolen.

2. I moved cross country for the second time in 12 months. (I'm exhausted)

3. I was validated in my escape from a narcissistic “friend”. (you know the one)

4. I went to the hospital twice.

5. I made my return to retail. (I look thick af in my uniform)

6. I’m officially an artist manager. (mogul tingz)

7. I started my Baltimore takeover. (yet another plot twist)

8. I realized who my #1 opp really is.

Did I just say I moved to Baltimore? The same Baltimore I just said I never wanted to go back to? Why, yes I did.

Did I also just saw all of that happened in the span of not even 3 months? Also, yes.

If you ask me how I’m doing mentally, I’d laugh so maniacally you’d be concerned but truthfully, I feel free.

I have cried so much (think Kim when she lost her earrings in the ocean, but way more snot) from the betrayal of not only knowing who stole my identity, but in knowing that a huge point of my life has ended — and through the fire of it all I have no choice but to persist.

A lot of the bullshit mentioned I simply didn’t deserve and in the past, I’d probably sit and grovel over how I’m victim and get paranoid. In an effort to reframe these thoughts that don’t help me at all (hey there free therapist, Kendra) I’ve decided to think of me returning to Baltimore as a victorious entry into a new me.

 A bigger, better, BADDER version.

The story time corner. As I reflect on what makes my lore my own, I hope you can see a piece of yourself in it too.

— I LITERALLY BE KNOWING

So, how did I find out who stole my identity? Buckle up besties, because this is officially a cannon event.