They want my body. They don’t want my voice.

They’ll watch the content, crave the curves, praise the pictures—then flinch the second I speak up.

But here’s the truth: I’m not here to be quiet. I’m not here to be polite. I’m not here to be yours.

This blog is for the women who have been looked at but never listened to.

For the ones who turned their image into power—and dared to keep their mouths open.

I don’t hate men—I just don’t trust them. And that’s not the same thing. My boundaries aren’t built from bitterness; they’re built from experience. If that makes you uncomfortable, then you’re not really listening.

Being beautiful doesn’t make you safe. In fact, sometimes it makes you a target. This piece unpacks the myth of pretty privilege, the danger of sexualization, and why I’m done accepting compliments that come with disrespect.

The It Girl isn’t perfect. She’s powerful. She’s the one who walks into chaos and owns it like it’s couture. This isn’t about aesthetics—it’s about energy. If you’ve ever felt too much, too loud, too bold… congratulations. You’re already her.

This Mother’s Day, I’m honoring two women who raised me in love, chaos, and courage. My grandmother Diane gave me stability. My mother Erica gave me fire. Together, they gave me everything I needed to survive, succeed, and heal.

Some friendships don’t end—they just fade. Not because of drama or betrayal, but because the version of you that once fit so easily with them doesn’t exist anymore. This piece is about the grief of growing apart, the guilt of moving forward, and the peace that comes when you stop shrinking to stay close.

You don’t owe anyone consistency. You’re allowed to evolve, to contradict yourself, and to outgrow past versions of you that no longer feel honest. Reinvention isn’t a betrayal—it’s a reclamation. This piece is for anyone who’s ever felt trapped by who they used to be.

I wasn’t healed—I was productive. I wasn’t happy—I was useful. For years, I tied my worth to how impressive I could be. But behind every achievement was a scared, high-functioning girl performing perfection just to feel safe. This is the story of how I mistook survival for success—and what happened when the performance stopped.

Money isn’t just currency to me—it’s safety, identity, and emotional control. I grew up fearing instability, and now I chase security like my life depends on it… because once, it did. This isn’t about greed. It’s about survival.

I didn’t learn about addiction from a textbook. I learned it by living it—by watching my mom struggle, survive, and slowly reclaim her life. This isn’t just a story about drugs. It’s a story about pain, healing, and the love that survived in between.

Some shows don’t just entertain—they imprint. These five series didn’t just pass time, they changed me. From redefining justice to teaching me the cost of revenge, these comfort shows have been on repeat for years. And if I could experience them for the first time all over again… I would, in a heartbeat.