I Really Miss The Strip Club.

Community this, community that, you niggas ain't real.

I know what you’re thinking: “why you had to use the N-word above fold Nikki?” and I want you to never have that stupid thought again.

Next month is my last session with my therapist. After six years together, me and this incredible black woman are parting ways. Therapy is expensive and honestly, I’m ready for group therapy. There aren’t many people around me who have cut their entire families off, or experienced the types of abuse I did growing up. While I’m grateful for that, there’s nothing more relieving than talking to someone who understands. Who doesn’t need to hear the reason. Who knows how the random days pop on you when everything inside you feels completely destroyed and you have no idea when you’ll come to.

Over the years friends have asked me for advice about setting up boundaries with their parents and while my no-contact method provides evidence of solutions, very few people are actually comfortable considering it. It’s chill, because I don’t want it for them either. I’m way happier when friends tell me their parents went to therapy and apologized. It reminds me why my makers and their entire community stays blocked. Because when you cut your family off, you cut their people off too. Can’t trust anybody who in congress with your opps, especially since society doesn’t really believe in a person’s right to judge their own childhood. (People hate kids and think they are dumb.) So it took me a long time to build a new community, away from my family. A bunch of people I knew I could trust with anything at anytime, who wouldn’t let me die or even suffer if they could help it. What a ragtag bunch my chosen family is now but it’s big and wild, just like my “real” family.