staying alive. that’s never been easy—for you, or anyone in your family. growing up, your mom would share stories of her life. a sixteen year old girl sufficient because she had to be, or she wouldn’t eat. she told stories on your father’s behalf—isaiah was too infatuated with the bottom of a beer can to tell them himself. the dangers of the world mixed with these genetics gave you nothing but trauma and instability.

school was hard. in first grade, your older sister brought you to the basement one night, after school, persuading you to build a pillow fort to sleep in. it wasn’t until years later you realized the sound of banging and yelling was dampened down there, practically inaudible. by third grade, you knew to come home and beeline to your room for your safety. fifth grade—isaiah hit you for the first time. you still remember watching your mom walk back into their bedroom right after consoling you, and promising things would be different. three weeks later, he left. and you never saw him again.

high school, though still school, was different. it took a year—your whole sixth grade year—to be free of isaiah, despite his choice to leave. custody battles, break-ins and assaults, stalkings, all because he wouldn’t let go of his pride. you started high school at forest hills, a school in a different district he couldn’t show up to. part of you will never forget the feeling of that first day. you made the wrong friends in your search for community. and those four years were brutal.

nalani was the only blessing that came out of school. conversations had in class became hope. something living that you could hold onto. when you built an nail account, she volunteered to let you practice on her nails, even if prematurely. her support as your best friend felt endless.

then you and nalani became of age. and going out became a habit—clubbing took over as you searched for something to soothe you. that one night changed your life forever. you had caught the eye of someone with an insatiable desire—khyra wilson. you’d later learn that she was there celebrating the release of her first album. khyra—or kwn, as the music world knew her—acted through calculation; when she wanted something, she acquired it. there were barriers, getting to you—you both existed in different spheres of the social world. nalani seemed to disapprove immediately, especially when discovering khyra had just come out of a relationship. and you were in new york, while she traveled. barriers never stopped khyra before.

khyra flew to new york every weekend just to take you out on dates. it only took you three months to become her girlfriend. but nine months later, she cheated on you with another woman. unfortunately her hold on you was ridiculously tight—she swiftly yanked that emotional leash, and you stayed with her. she proposed the next year, and married you months later. within three years of meeting, you were familiar with each other’s parents, married, and living together in new york city. your older sister and mother didn’t approve, but khyra had ways around that barrier too. she always would.