• Bri Lynette

Dear God, Why Me?

Have you ever sat down and thought about your life? I mean, analyzed every second and wondered why you’re going through what you’re going through? I’ve been doing this for the past 22 years, and I know what you’re now thinking. 22 years? But aren’t you only 30 years old? Yes, I’m 30, and since the age of 8, I’ve been trying to figure out how fate got me here.


I started journaling at a young age, so you know how they all started.




Journaling helped me write out my feelings and emotions, because in many black households and households across the world, I wasn’t allowed to express myself as a child. It caused a lot of anger and resentment, but writing in my dairy helped me stay sane.

The most common entry in my dairy was why doesn’t anyone love me? I know, sad right?


I tried hard to make friends, but it never really seemed to work out. I couldn't do the normal things that other children were allowed to like have birthday parties, sleep overs, and call my friends after school. Although I considered myself to have friends at school, all interactions stopped there. As we graduated and began attending different schools, I eventually lost communication altogether since I wasn't allowed to talk on the phone. Nope..there wasn't any social media, and if there was I still wouldn't be allowed on it. Why? According to my dad, I didn't have any friends, and he wouldn't tolerate me saying I had them. As kids invited me to do things, I had to constantly say I couldn't come. After awhile, they stopped asking. I then became the stuck up girl, the stand-offish girl, the girl who thought she was better than everyone else.😒

Let's be real, I also had the typical childhood problem, I got picked on for everything. My head was too big, I was too fat, my hair was too nappy, I was too ugly (safe to say I grew into my looks 😌), and I was too white.



No, seriously...I'm not white, my melanin is one of my best features 😉. But there's something about sounding "educated" that alienates you from the pack. Til' this day, I still don't get it. I was called an "Inside-out Oreo" more times than I could count (still am). I didn't fit in with the white kids because culturally we were too different, and I couldn't relate to anything they were talking about. Likewise, I felt left out talking to my black friends at school. I didn't know where to fit in. Where's the mixed-kids table?


I tried hard not to let it get to me. Over the years, I learned to pick on myself before anyone else had the opportunity. The only problem, the more you say things out loud, the more you start to believe it internally. I wish I could say that my home was my safe haven, but unfortunately, home was where I would find my biggest bully, my dad. He didn't just bully me, he bullied everybody. He was never afraid to back up his insults with threats of bodily harm. In fact, he backed them up often behind closed doors, but that's a story for another day.


Before I even had the chance to develop a positive self-esteem, he was there to degrade me. No matter what I did, it was never good enough for him. The more I tried to impress him and make him proud, the meaner he became:


  • If I brought home straight A's on my report card - I was still a Dumb Ass

  • If I told him something I learned in school - I was a Smart Ass

  • If he found out I liked a boy - I was still an Ugly Ass

  • If I wanted a snack after school - I was a Fat Ass


It didn't help that I heard these same things at school. I still remember writing a letter to a boy in middle school telling him that I liked him. You remember the types of notes we use to fold oh so eloquently. Not only did he decide to read it out loud to the class, but he also felt the need to tell the class I was ugly, and he wouldn't be my boyfriend. Dear God, why me? 😩

After awhile, I started to believe all the negative comments about me. Both my confidence and self-esteem plummeted. I started talking a little less, and became more and more introverted. Depression set in and anxiety took over my life. Large crowds began to terrify me, and I struggled to love myself. I know, I know...I'm all over the place, and I'm sure you have questions. Let's just say, over time, I learned to love myself. Just follow me, and I'll tell you all about it.


Until next time. 💋


- Bri Lynette









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