Nun Lyf
& The Sweetest Ballad That Never Happened
It’s been a while, so I wanted to drop this to maintain some semblance of momentum.
TL;DR - For now, it’s ultimately fuck these niggas although I do, in fact, want to fuck (and be monogamously partnered with) some of these niggas. But I won’t. Because a nun wouldn’t do that….
Last month, I made a third attempt to write about a man named Michael*. The first was an old draft that will never see the light of day, the second a poem that will never be finished or published, and the third a deep-dive into how my situation—or lack thereof in this case—was eerily reminiscent to that of Tyler the Creator and his dear friend, Jerrod Carmichael. I want to claw my eyes out just thinking about that third post. But I won’t. For now. These works of longing will never be released as I refuse to give niggas ego strokes for free. At least not anymore. They simply haven’t done enough to deserve it.
When I initially started these pieces, I was unsure what direction I wanted to take:
(A) another pity-party story time about a man,
(B) a poem on yearning for said man, or
(C) introspection on what my experiences and patterns are teaching me.
I’m going for option C.
I recognized that all of them centered the individual—his looks, personality, and behaviors—as an idol of adulation. But what I truly needed to center was my thought process and the growth I am still yet to make. It was never supposed to be about him, but about me. (Also, sidenote: While I’ll still have my sad girl, Erykah Badu “Bag Lady” blues about men, I don’t want the brand I’m building (slowly but surely) to solely be about what men are and aren’t doing. There’s much more to life and I shouldn’t pigeonhole myself.)
An audio I sent Future* once tells it plainly:
These were my sentiments months ago in May, but I’m only now putting them into action. I needed a hard reset in the opposite direction. Isn’t that one of Newton’s laws?
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
With this reset in mind, I decided to become a nun on July 26, 2025. Am I a new devotee of the Catholic faith? No. Am I selling off all my worldly possessions and moving onto a commune in the countryside with other women? No, but I can’t lie, that does sound fun in theory. What I am doing is decentering men and romance. For the last 7 or so years (is 7 years of bad luck a thing?), I have given so much of my power away to others. Even to those I care about that haven’t abused it yet. I was left questioning if I truly am who I think I am. I still hadn’t fully acknowledged my autonomy in my own life. Therefore, I am resolving to take all my shit back. So no— no more Aaliyah love letters to dudes when I should’ve written them to myself instead.
Nun Lyf is all about doing the work that often goes unseen and unappreciated until the results are made manifest. Bettering my mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical wellbeing. Finding peace. Then balancing a social life on top of that. “Locking in” is what the kids call it these days.
On the basest, most intrinsic level, another goal is to wean myself off of the crack cocaine that is external validation, especially coming from the opposite sex. I need to confidently “witness” and “exposure therapy” myself and my beauty in different ways without hungering for their approval. Questions such as, “Will they like what I did to my hair?”, “Am I pretty enough?”, “Am I this or that enough?”, “Am I being too boring?”, or “Am I doing too much?” should no longer be the order of the day. I am not meant to perform for you for a pat on the head. I’m meant to give my best everyday, however that may look or act. If you like it, great. And if you don’t, that’s your business. At the end of the day, it’s still my life to live authentically.
Oh and I started therapy as audio me predicted. I am three sessions deep. And I like the lady. I’m paying an arm and a leg for it currently—because America and insurance is just so grand—but I’ll keep on keeping on. Because I feel it may be worth it. I also started engaging in different aspects of fitness. While I am no gym rat fitness influencer type, I’ve come to enjoy the challenge and consistency. The discipline to make sure I get things done. I even went on a few runs recently. The quintessential late-20s-early-30s-quarter-life-crisis cry for help, but in a good way. When everyone you care about starts training for 5Ks, 10Ks, marathons, etc. But hey, at least it’s not drugs, so there’s that. I'm seeing the cup half full on this one.
My induction into nunnery and “lock in” culture is teaching me a lot about myself. Namely, the importance of being self-assured and less needy. That I’m strong and capable of doing hard things. That I have much to offer the world. And that selling yourself short is a great sin. Continue following me on this journey of mine, and do keep your head up. It’s better that way.
Nun ministry!