1. Needing Something More

     So, I seemed to have it all: a college education in progress, I was invested in my intern position, I had a loving family, pretty good health, a new launched career in the modeling field, more money than I needed, and rappers as friends.  But it was the type of rappers who seemed to have no conscience. You know, the weed smoking, 20 girls a night, 500 grand a pop on a car rapper—yeah those were my friends. Some role models huh? 

I had the pro-athletes and plenty of money.  I had all a twenty something year old girl could ask for. And I would receive gifts from guys, fans, friends whatever you want to call them: new shoes, roses, chocolates, jewelry.  I had all these things in my life, but I was still unhappy.  My depression would cycle, the suicidal thoughts had the power to consume me.  I still had a hurting gut, a hurting conscience, and in the head I felt really confused.  I would lay awake at night just thinking about what this hollow feeling was and how could I feel empty while simultaneously having so much?  Some days I would walk the city streets and just watch people.  They all seemed so happy.  In their business suits, chipper, full of life and purpose.  There were times I wished I could be more like them—you know, just naïve to surroundings and the mere acknowledgment that we’ve lost meaning.  I wanted to be numb and childlike in that way…just really anything to dull the pain.

I would constantly wonder, how could this life feel so wrong and when I had other friends and fans not only cheering me on but some wanting the life I was living?  How did the money begin to lose it’s value and the pre-marital intimacy became dull, lifeless, and feeling like it was further eroding my values? Why was I crying over my pro-athlete boyfriend when all the other girls would have done anything to have him?  Why did I cringe after my modeling pictures became published on the net? Truly, I couldn’t stand to look at my modeling pictures. They would create in me an awkward sensation. Imagine sitting there with your parent, looking at half-naked pictures of yourself.  That’s the exact awkwardness I felt when I looked at them alone.  I actually thought something was wrong with me.  I would have two very strong pulling desires.  One side of me wanted to take advantage of the physical aspect which was given to me while this other side wanted to cover up and stand up and solely speak about how this felt so wrong.  Another experience, I really felt an urge to be in a published magazine because I had exposed this much thus far anyway, might as well have something to show for it right? I even made the cut, but my other side told them no, that I was no longer interested.  How could this be?  I wasn’t religious by any means, so why the conviction?

I slowly began to see there was no glory in this lifestyle. I hated the fast lane—it is truly a sellout.  Of course I kept thinking, there had to be another way of life, there had to be more than looking good, being educated, or well spoken, and us trying to dress to impress, idolizing these cars and mansions. Can you believe that?!! We are idolizing cars! I thought, is this serious?  Am I the only one seeing this? Smh, so I began my own way.  I was at such a low point, that I was willing to start from scratch in my life.  I had been out of modeling a year and of course I’m always in school and constantly learning and expanding myself, but something still felt empty within me.  So I began to read and study and research. Then, I started to see that something was tricking me out to trick me in. I made this my next journey, to find that cause and ELIMINATE IT.