A long essay about the confusion racism causes

“You’re not Christian? So do you believe in God?”

I can’t remember the exact words now, but I remember the shock of such a bold inquiry, an invasive question into my private curiosities and spiritual quests. We just met each other. She is a farmer and a wife of a farmer. Tall, blonde with not so great teeth, and she made it clear that it was the poor leadership in Scotland that made her teeth bad. She and her husband’s farm is picturesque with rolling green hills and expansive blue skies with…


It’s Valentine’s Day and he had just come home from his winter trip the previous night. I came back a month prior from my trip. We would see our separate families in winter each year. So had his city studio apartment to myself for a while, which meant time to reevaluate my life, for the 30th time. I had made up my mind about what was next and wanted to share it with him at an appropriate time.

We wake up and he says he has something for me, for Valentine’s Day. I’m thrown off.

“We don’t celebrate,” I say…


By Brittney M. Walker

I admit it’s been a while since sharing any stories. I suppose I was processing… Or procrastinating.

Over the summer I flew back home to visit with family for a bit. Seeing my mom and siblings and a few other relatives and friends was good. It soothed me. My visit was the first since beginning this series of stories and rants. Before arriving, I was bracing for something. You know that feeling when you’re helplessly being pushed in a crowd, like a plaything or some inanimate object, being flung about without care? You know when in…


by Brittney M. Walker

We had been goin’ all day. No breaks except to pee or drink some water. The sun’s position had changed from high in the sky to barely can see anymore. Who knows how many hours it had been. I just know when it is time for him to go, I feel unsatisfied. Disappointed. Bored. Empty. Horny even.

“Is something wrong with me? I must be an animal,” I ask myself.

He is definitely worn out and satisfied.

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” It isn’t but a minute after he leaves I go on the prowl. It…


By Brittney M. Walker

The photo has nothing to do with this time in my life…. I think though it depicts how I was feeling during this time … hehehe

Newly freed of relationship obligations and shed of any judgment, I am excited to try new men. Issa Ray’s latest season of “Insecure” was airing simultaneously and I was eating up all the drama on “Being Mary Jane.” Coincidence? Meh…

I have a lover, a friend turned lover. He’s married but polyamorous. We hang, smoke, make etheric love, chill. For us, it’s perfect. No obligations to one another except for the emotional responsibility we both in action agree to. We care for each other like we would care for ourselves. The wind is in our sails.


By Brittney M. Walker

He or she would be 10 years old, probably now. My life would have been completely different and so would his. Maybe we would have been married, living in California. Maybe we would be living internationally, together, raising our child. Maybe we would have been separated, co-parenting.

We are both in college, on track to be the first in both of our families to graduate. We are both virgins. We are both diligent church-going Christians. We both loved each other, but I never admitted this while we were together. I wanted to wait until we were…


By Brittney M. Walker

I was trying to think of something racy and controversial to write about this month, but I’ll tackle this small, but probably common thing first.

So my mom found my blog. Dun dun duuuun. Not that I was hiding it from her. Well, she didn’t actually find it. One of my aunts found it. She’s the chatty chatty aunt.

She’s the aunt of the family that somehow always finds her way into everyone else’s generally shameful business. If you want to know the worst things about so and so, she’s got the 411. “Guess who slept…


By Brittney M. Walker

The deacons are passing around Communion cups, the prepackaged ones with the non-alcoholic wine shots and Styrofoam crackers attached to the top protected with a cellophane wrapping. I am sweating a little in my armpits, nervous about what she’ll say when she notices that I don’t take one. For several Communion Sundays I had been purposely sitting out of her eye sight so she wouldn’t see I’ve been skipping it for the last few months.

The silver disk comes around. It looks like one of those wheels people put on their low-riders, except with a bunch…


By Brittney M. Walker

Sharing my cannabis-Cosby experience was a bit liberating, I must admit. Before actually releasing the piece, I thought long and hard about the consequences. I grappled with the idea of not being able to get hired one day at some 9 to 5 or being emotionally or verbally assaulted by family members and others. I dealt with the idea of being alienated and I also dealt with the responsibility of continuing to share my experiences publicly. …


By Brittney M. Walker

For those of you with burning questions or left with some holes from the story (join the club), I’ve compiled a little list of facts to help out a bit. This is also for you judgy ass mofos who made assumptions and doled out your ‘advice’ without asking questions (I’m not angry, just annoyed). It’s not an exhaustive list, but it may answer some questions you wanted to ask. Feel free to ask privately if you don’t see your question listed.

1. Have you tried edibles or weed since?

photo by Brittney M. Walker

The experience was kind of traumatic. In…

Brittney Monique Walker

A storyteller and a homie

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