At the time, I chalked it up to him not pressing charges because of their daughters. I thought maybe he was just trying to protect them. But three years later—and after all the other bullshit I’ve lived through—I see it differently. He wasn’t just being “considerate.” He was brainwashed. Still tangled up in the abuse. And maybe too far gone to break free.

This blog, this stream, it’s about those moments. The ones where common sense takes a backseat, where morals go missing, where people make choices that make the rest of us wonder—what the hell were they thinking? Because let’s be real, some folks have completely lost the plot. And while I’ve had my fair share of questionable decisions, at least my moral compass isn’t totally broken. Some people, though? They’re a whole different level of reckless. So, welcome to "Brain Cells not Included"

Turning 40 feels like my body is breaking down piece by piece, making me question everything—my health, my habits, and my future. With a family history of breast cancer and type 2 diabetes, recent changes in my body have me in full panic mode. Getting a doctor’s appointment is nearly impossible, and the waiting only fuels my fear. But despite it all, I still have so much to live for—my kids, my dreams, and the bucket list road trip I hope to take one day. This is my raw, unfiltered reflection on aging, uncertainty, and the determination to keep going.

At just eight years old, my world turned upside down when my family packed up and moved to Tupelo, Mississippi. Leaving behind the only home I had ever known was terrifying—my friends, my neighborhood, my sense of security. But that move? It didn’t last. From the confusion of my last name mystery to my momma’s legendary refusal to follow rules (white-outting legal documents included), to the moment that sent us right back home, this chapter of my life was full of revelations, chaos, and unexpected blessings. Because as much as I feared the move, fate had other plans. Returning home wasn’t just about comfort—it was about finding the people and the moments that would shape me forever. The year we came back was the year I met my soul sister, Ashley—the person I never knew I needed. This is the story of a journey that was never meant to be, the lessons learned along the way, and the people who made home feel like home.

When I say my momma was a force to be reckoned with, I mean exactly that. You did not bring harm to her children or her grandchildren. And you sure as hell didn’t stand between her and her grandbabies. I learned that early in life, but one memory that stands out is when my sister started dating a Black man.

I spent years dreaming of a peaceful, clean home once my kids were grown and out on their own. But when that day finally came, the silence wasn’t comforting—it was crippling. No one tells you how to rebuild your life when the one thing that gave you purpose is suddenly gone. This is my journey through empty nest syndrome—the unexpected grief, the struggle to find myself again, and the reality of life after raising kids.

These are the memories that shaped me. The joy, the fear, the sacrifices, and the strength passed down from my mother. This is just a glimpse into my past, the foundation of the journey I’m still on today.

The past five years have felt like a whirlwind—like we jumped from 2019 to now in the blink of an eye, yet somehow, it also feels like a lifetime has passed. This blog is going to be a little all over the place, much like my mind, which always has too many tabs open. I’m a spicy, slightly feral mess navigating this next chapter of life, and I’m inviting you along for the ride. Welcome to my chaos—buckle up!