& I really fucks with Nicki’s “Dear Old Nicki” because it explains this same exact predicament.
I Had To Make Them Changes, I Hope You Understood
You See For Every bad, I Did A Ton Of Good
But You Was Underground, And I Was Mainstream
I Live The Life Now, That We Would Daydream
My Only Wish Is You Come Enjoy It With Me
Get On Them Conference Calls, Go Meet Them Lawyers With Me
The Money Came Yea, Tripled And Quadrupled It
But I Still Miss Us When We Was On Some Stupid Shit
I felt I had to let go of that edge. I couldn’t be so rough. So… ghetto. IDK how else to explain it, but who I was really doesn’t translate into the office. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t changed. But there are parts of who I was that I admire. That I miss. That I hope are still somewhere in me. But just like Jay ends the verse in “Light Up” I gotta say “Fuck Niggas. Bitches, too. All I got is this money. This will do.” I just feel like… you can’t get out the hood if you don’t leave…. at least for a little.
How can you trust in someone who doesn’t know when to change when the situation demands? I’m trying to remember where I heard that… if I knew I’d cite it… but I can’t so watev… Sometimes, you have to be okay with change… no matter the backlash. For example, two years ago, I met my friends in NYC for a day shopping trip. Please believe I copped myself knockoff Damier Louis V bags– Azur and Ebene — and a monagram Speedy for Lisa. I was fake flyy. But as a sophmore in college, at least I had fake fly. While I was in the club, I doubt anyone had a real bag. The white girls I went to class with? Hell yes, their’s were real. That’s why I left my bags in my room & they only came out at night. The other day, I saw some grown bitches Facebook profiles. So… they were partying with “celebs” holding onto what looked with knockoffs. (I’m just sayin… if you can drop 4 digits on the bag, you should be able to drop as much on the outfit no? That’s my telling characteristic). So I posted on FB about how I’d rather have nothing than to front with fakes. Thing is, I’ve never worn a fake anything anywhere I shouldn’t. The girl behind me at work puts her Prada up on her desk every morning. I can’t embarrass myself. Which is why all my knockoffs were in blue bin on the corner of Lenox & 142nd soon as I got my shit outta storage. (Shoutouts to whoever picked them up. ) My homie caught the post and brought my hypocrisy to my attention [that’s wat friends are for]. She said I was the “first” out there buying them bags. I was. in the 6th grade to be precise. I had the monogram black canvas with the colorful LV’s with a matching watch and bracelet. 6th grade š lol. So yea… it’s about that time for me to change my mind, if you all don’t mind. I’m officially anti-faux labels. My apologies to all those who new me while I was young, broke and full of aspirations. But I’m here now. Shit changed. Like… I can now afford real bags. (I mean, that was all I had as a response for her. lol)
Still, I’m trying to not go against my word as much… unless I have to. When it comes to fashion and trends, please allow me to change. For that is the nature and beauty of fashion. Shit comes in. Then it goes out. “Fashionable” just means you can keep track of it all. The one thing I can’t change my mind about is… me. I wrote in “When He Left Me” about how my ex told me I don’t “deserve as much as [I] think [I] do.” Unfortunately, that’s something I simply can’t change my mind about. I think…. No… I know that I deserve everything I dream of. I work fucking hard. I am a damned good woman. So when I say that a man can’t have me, or that he isn’t doing enough for me, I have to stop letting him back in. So…. ______ hit me up this vacation. But not exactly in the way I wanted him to. I don’t know why he hit me. Or what was on his mind…. or if he meant any of the things he was saying to me… Meanwhile, I had been wondering if I should write him a little “Merry Christmas” and remind him of me but luckily fought myself and decided not to. When he finally sent me a message, my heart beat furiously in my chest… and I responded to each message. Still, I knew I couldn’t let him back in. As I exchanged messages with him, I smiled. I remembered. I reminisced. I missed him. I…. miss him. And I know it. But I can’t let him swoop in last minute and go against everything I’ve had to tell myself simply to get over him. I still have the same complaints. I still feel like he doesn’t deserve my attention. So after I entertained the conversation, I went about my day. If he wants to chase me, he’s welcome to. But I won’t think about him anymore than I should. & I told him that. & I was proud of myself… because unfortunately, I did like him…. But… He’s a couple months too late. He don’t know it but, I am no longer in service.
I can’t turn my back on myself anymore. One step at a time, y’all… But I’m human. and like Lauryn Hill said… anything that aint changing… that aint growing… is dead. And I have so much life to live. I mean… can I live? I am a Queen, but I am not a God. I’m not perfect. Never said I was. I’m a regular person. I’m human. You gotta let me live.
& I’ll be the judge of me.