Goodbye, Chicago?

Have you ever wanted to just leave a city and start a new?

Have you ever wanted to just leave a city and start a new? I have.


As a heterosexual sexual black woman that is interested/dates white heterosexual males, I think I identify most with gay males. In the sense that it is taboo that these males are so enamoured, but are so unwilling to be public about it. I say all this to say, artists, playlists I created music has informed my metacognitive reflection of my life movement in 2018.

Seven-day countdown to moving to the east coast and just got back from the West Coast, East Coast or remain in ‘the Chi’; honestly the direction unknown.

Have you ever wanted to just leave a city and start a new? I have. Especially when I am utterly done with Chicago, the people in it, or the realness of the questions done with me.

I was watching an interview that Laila Waith referred to that in Chicago, there is a glass ceiling where a big personality and confidence is oppressed and subdued; I could not identify with her points more.

I feel like in Chicago there is no support. Or rather its there, but there is not avid support for a hustle unless. Or rather the family and social circle that I have fostered here is of that of no support because it is solely for the look of things due to fear.

There are pockets of support, but if an outlier of a stereotype questions anything your name is mud.
I am solely speaking from my own experience. So basically my family communication and support is at a hundred.

I was engaged in my earlier 20s and that relationship ended after 5 years—a story for another day written piece; I attempt to find stability in other relationships, but the foundation is always flawed. Its layers specifically: The layers varying degrees of the underlying racism, fear and so many other factors of latency that adhered to a space that did not support our union.

Outside of this the experience of me dating on apps, in real life men are so fearful or caring a real relationship due to how I carry myself and do not carry myself; I become the pretty “thing’ to have and to fuck.

In the process of moving to Seattle, Washington. I wanted to announce that I was leaving Chicago. I wanted to make sure that many saw and felt “You ain’t shit. You ain’t never going to be shit.”

However, I returned because I realized it was something that I needed. I needed my Mom and I needed Chicago. Also be able to stay here as long as I need.

Every time I venture outside of Chicago to the east or west coast. I meet individual are added to my life that I need. However, working on myself. I know I need my foundation and work on those things to make the foundation stable so that I can build on it. The catalyst of this writing came from listening to Troye Sivon’s collection of music.

Chicago and/or my experiences of Chicago through key foundational relationship’s has a way of eating you and not caring to support or my experiences. In turn, I feel like I have to disappear in Chicago because there is so much oppression for what I need and my worth. Being known in Chicago is worse than being known for being from Chicago. Something about that Midwest that makes me sick, love and realize one’s power. My power.

I listened to an artist Troye Sivan song, “My My My!” and it prompted me the puttering of emotions on the environment and how styling it can be. I have not seen talent in every form remain in Chicago. They reside outside of this city.

I love it here, but people Chicago is a conundrum of the comfort of mediocrity and comfort.

The talent that I have found myself admiring for staying are artists. They maintain their humility and find their way to function beyond and be successful. However in leaving and their travels inform their work and yet they return.

One of my associates said, “Do not say anything when you come or go. Just go girl!” This was in an early hours after one of his set at a Mexican restaurant in River North. A space that is known for its bar. I took what he said and continued to broadcast. Even so on my next adventure, I find myself doing a secret countdown.

I had a realization that I hate living in Forest Park. Where I was happiest was in Lincoln Park Chicago, Illinois. However, I know that my presence is needed until I truly hit my ceiling as a librarian, correspondent, writer, model and all of it.

Until the next chats. I will be listening to these songs mentioned. I highly recommend finding the songs that oscillate with you.

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