Page 59 of Saint Baptiste 2

There was a period during this time where I knew I could control her. A brief moment in time where I knew I could get exactly what I desired from her. We were at Jahad’s. We were staring into each other’s eyes, and something happened to time. It slipped and we both got lost inside of each other’s eyes. It was in that moment that I knew, I could have had her the way I needed her but... I didn’t take advantage of it. Couldn’t.

I didn’t want to control Naoki. I just... I wanted to love her. Correctly. Wanted her to be open to receiving it. Needed her to see me the way I could see her. But in order for her to see me... she had to first see herself. And that would take time.

“Have we given it enough time?” I asked. Painfully.

Hurt to ask because I’d just asked her the same question less than a week ago. And in the pit of my soul, I knew nothing about her answer had changed.

She looked up at me and the answer did somersaults in her eyes.

EPILOGUE

NAOKI

five years later

“Did you wake up one day and realize you were stuck in a cycle? With the same man... that really wasn’t the same man... but he was? Just in a different meat suit?” I asked, staring into the audience of three hundred.

The crowd erupted in a bunch of ‘Mmmhmm’ and ‘Girl yes’s’, just as I expected.

Nodding, I took the microphone off its stand and walked away from the podium. “No matter what you do, you can’t seem to stop it. You moved out of your hometown, went back to school, picked up a new hobby, dated outside of your race, lowered and raised your standards... You’ve driven yourself crazy trying to stop it but shit! Every single time you look up, you realize ‘This is a different book with the same got damn plot. And shit, I already know how it’s gon end!” I paused and they laughed. “And then you find yourself at your wits end with the same got damn story so... you get so desperate you settle?”

They didn’t say anything.

“You settle and then you find yourself miserably, because you’ve wandered so got damn far away from yourself, thinking that’s what you had to do in order to break it? You thought it was ‘you’. Thought ‘you’ were the problem, so you just tolerated mediocrity and realized shit... this is even worse than before!” Got a few laughs that time. I expected that too. Desperation was nasty and embarrassing.

“Or maybe your plot is a little different. Maybe you’re one of many who are actually with the same man. You’ve made changes. You’ve talked about couples therapy a million times, never went. You forgave him for cheating. And what he do? What...” I paused and looked around. “... niggas do.” They laughed. Cracked up laughing. Mmhmm. That was my favorite part.

“But you forgave him again because guess what? That merry-go-round is nice and pretty sometimes, ain’t it?” They agreed, and I continued. “After a week it’s back to the same bullshit. Had the emotional heart-to-hearts... decided it was a ‘baecation’ and more date nights that was needed. Downloaded all of the couples apps. Did all of the little cute shit you found on Pinterest. Did all of the things. But,” I paused and took a deep breath for dramatics. “Eventually you got right back on that got damn hamster wheel, didn’t you boo?”

They laughed. Again. But as always, that laughter died out to a sad little giggle once my questions really marinated, and the severity of what life had been for them hit the in the gut. Like a ton of bricks.

“I know,” I somberly said as the room of beautiful black women fell silent.

I was in Detroit hosting my third retreat of the year at The Icon. Standing on a stage in an auditorium, at a sold-out event, in a city that left so many scars on me, gave me chills. The minute I stepped off the plane, I felt it. It was a surreal feeling. Standing where I stood now, compared to where I stood five years ago. Five years ago, seeing this for myself was impossible. Would have never guessed I would be on a stage, speaking to a group of three hundred women about the importance of self-love.

That was the hack. That was the key. To end the cycle. Self-love. Ain’t that some shit? As simple as it might sound, learning to love myself wasn’t easy. For most people it isn’t. If it was, I wouldn’t have had ten sold out retreats to speak at this year. Self-love was the only way for me to really get off that hamster wheel. For me to really get to the root of why I kept attracting the same men.

Realized it was because I didn’t love myself. Kept doing the same shit, getting the same results because I didn’t think I deserved better. The way I treated myself was a reflection of what I attracted. I mean, really. It took me going into isolation to really figure it out. To really see what it was that God wanted from me. For so long, I thought God was punishing me, but what he really wanted me to do was love myself. To accept myself... and to let go of the ugly shit I kept buried.

Sometimes, I sat alone in silence just to reflect on where I was before I listened. I mean, really fucking listened. I thought God had beef with me. I thought he put all of that ‘ugly shit’ in front of me because he hated me. But, he did it because he loved me. He loved me so much he wanted me to confront the things I was running from, so I could stop suffering. So I could get the love I wanted. The love I desired. The best love—love from self. Unconditional love. Love that should and would never waver. Once I did that, when it came in the form of a ‘man’ who wouldn’t be the same man because I got off the ride, I would be able to not only recognize, but accept that love he wanted to give me.

I used to hate who I saw when I looked in the mirror. When I was alone. Who I was when no one was looking... I couldn’t stand that girl. The woman who was afraid of showing the world vulnerability. The girl who wore so many got damn masks that she’d couldn’t even find herself. I... I hated myself. Treated myself like shit. The thing about self-love is, even with realizing that, I had to give myself grace had to show the dark side of ‘Naoki’ love too. Because when it all boiled down to it., I mean... when a bitch really got to digging.... I realized, not even that was my fault. I wasn’t born hating myself. Didn’t come out that ladies vagina with this self-loathing disgust. Didn’t coming out wearing a mask. Something happened.

A lot of things happened. I heard a lot of things about myself. At a young age. And in hearing those things, I formed this... personality. I didn’t know who I was because for a long time, the Naoki I was, was the Naoki someone else told me I was. I had to take a really, really long look in the mirror. And when I did that, I realized so much about myself.

I didn’t like nursing.

I didn’t want to be a nurse.

I only got into nursing because they made a lot of money. Only wanted a lot of money because I cared about what people thought about me. I had to impress them. Had to show her I didn’t need her. She had to know I could survive without her. Bought that big house for her. Bought all of those designer bags, and clothes for them... for other people. I liked to look good and smell good, yes. But I did that shit for the approval of other people. I was so uncomfortable without it those extra things, that if I didn’t have ‘that shit’ on, I felt less than. I didn’t want people to see the truth. Hated to be seen. So, I hid behind a lot of masks.

I had to be real with myself. And do you know how uncomfortable that shit is? To be real with yourself after realizing that most of your life is a got damn lie? Baby... I was reborn. It wasn’t all bad though. Just like shedding a few layers of skin. I unlearned and learned so much about myself. Yeah, I got into nursing for the wrong reasons, but I did like to help people. I did care about them. Had this knack for healing. I was just... in the wrong lane. Just needed to swerve over a bit.

Two years into my self-discovery journey I started, Bloom. It started out as a simple TikTok account where I would do daily vlogs, morning routines, and cute shit like that. But then eventually, I got into daily self-love affirmations. That content got the most engagement and after a bit of encouragement from Sienna, I took a few classes and became a life coach.

That took a lot of courage. I didn’t think I could coach anybody. Who was I? There was still so much for me to learn. After sitting on the idea for a while, I was hit with a revelation. That’s what life is all about. Learning. No one is a master at it. And if there was one thing I was good at, it was cycles, bitch. Cycles, trauma, burying, running, hiding, and wearing masks. I knew enough about it all to relate. Not only could I relate but because I had done most of the hard work, I could help other women. Women who were blind, stuck, confused and needed a little guidance just like I did.

So, I started Bloom. A self-love coaching service that eventually turned into an annual retreat I hosted in Miami where I ended up moving to. It was a success. A huge success. So huge that eventually, I partnered with other mentors and Bloom literally blossomed. I took my retreat on the road. For a very long time, I avoided Michigan. There was nothing here for me. Nothing but baggage, trauma and old wounds I didn’t care to reopen. Sienna moved, I didn’t fuck with those people and... yeah. I just didn’t want to fuck with Michigan at all.

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