Track 01: He’s Baaaaaaaaack: Life After Melanin Ever After

Clears throat… The time has come for me to come back to the world of blogging and say what’s on my mind.

---

I started Melanin Ever After in the latter part of 2018 after I got married. At the time, I had a lot to say, but I was still knee-deep in my own insecurities and living for everyone but me.

Now don’t get me wrong—I was still a courageous muhfucka with a big heart—but I was walking every day with my trauma and pain hidden behind the love of my new marriage. I talked about everything from being disowned by my sister, to being a survivor of rape, to the discrimination I faced in corporate America, to being Black, Gay, and HIV+—and the stigma I dealt with at that intersection.

While writing was definitely liberating for me, I knew I needed to do the work on me. I can’t quite remember at what point I stopped blogging with Melanin Ever After, but it was before the Panasonic of 2020 and quarantine.

2020 was the launching pad for some deeply rooted trauma and baggage to be unpacked.

We bought Hubby’s childhood home at the top of the year. Got two new fur babies—Sir Coco and Lady Chanel. And then the Pandemonium began, and we were quarantined. I cut my locs off (God, I miss them lol). We were living in a world where people were dying at the hands of police and racism, and because we were all stuck inside, we were forced to look at the state of this country.

Hubby and I went from being novelty apparel creators to full-blown activists. In lieu of Pride in Columbus, Ohio, we organized a Unity March on Columbus for Black Lives—with over 3,000 people in attendance.

On the surface, we were building something powerful. But underneath, the weight of it all—being newlyweds, trying to live up to expectations, carrying my own trauma—was starting to crack the foundation I had already been struggling to stand on.

I tried to end it all. And had it not been for my husband pulling me back from jumping into traffic, my story would’ve ended there.

That moment was a baptism by fire for me. Like a phoenix dipped in the finest chocolate, I rose from the ashes.

That doesn’t mean life got easier. It just meant things started shifting toward the life God actually had for me.

Let me speed things up a little. Both of my maternal grandparents got sick. We moved my mom from the DMV to Columbus. The whole house got COVID. And in the middle of it all, I finally started living for Preston.

Not for my parents. Not for friends or family. Not for my husband. Just… me.

When I stopped chasing my father’s approval, I stopped going after his dream for me. I pledged and became a proud member of THE Phi Beta Sigma Fraternity, Incorporated—the baddest frat in the land. I started working at a public health agency, giving back to the HIV population here in Central Ohio.

I lost my grandfather. My father started declining. My mother got sick.

Can I just say December of 2023 was a doozy?

Through it all, I started chasing a dream I’d put on the shelf—becoming a recording artist. It was one of the few things my parents ever agreed on. Something I wanted to do for myself, but also something I wanted them to see before life took another turn.

In March 2024, I sang background for a local powerhouse in Columbus, Qamil. And in those rehearsals with Cherimondis, Paisha, and Monique, something unlocked in me. I began crafting the album that would later become Testimony.

Then May hit.

I lost a friend on a Friday. Got news that my father’s decline was speeding up. Found out my grandmother was in the ER—all in the same damn weekend.

In that storm, I started confiding in my Frat Brother Jay. He was always encouraging. Always cheering me on. Always lifting me through the heavy shit. I started therapy too—finally unpacking my abandonment issues, my trauma, and prepping myself emotionally to lose my father.

I was living in what felt like a hurricane of emotions.

Still, I pushed forward with the album. I recorded most of the instrumentals and laid down vocals just a week before my birthday. June came. My dad took a turn for the worse. We thought that was it—but he bounced back, briefly.

Then came July. I went to Conclave with my Frat Brothers in Houston. For a moment, I got to breathe. Got to be surrounded by love and Brotherhood.

But when I got back that Sunday, my Frat Brother Jay was killed in a tragic car accident.

I found out that Monday morning—and my world turned upside down.

The one person who didn’t mind letting me vent, lean, cry was gone. At the same time, I was trying to make my husband’s birthday special for him holding me down during this time, still processing my father’s decline, and trying to hold it all together.

That Friday, I went to get my Cabenuva shots. I hadn’t even pulled back into the garage all the way before my sister called.

My father had passed.

The next year and a half was all about grief. Not just grieving my father—but grieving the hope that things might’ve been different between us. Grieving the few powerful moments when he did show up. Grieving the story we never got to rewrite. And grieving the death of whatever relationship with his son and daughter who want nothing to do with me as long as I choose to walk in my truth.

By 2024, I was coping the best way I knew how. I ate my feelings. Got up to 280 pounds. I disassociated from friends, family, Frat, and anyone who brought anything but comfort and understanding.

But I also hit one of the highest moments of my life.

Almost $10,000 later, months of writing, recording, rewriting, and singing—Testimony was born. It became an autobiography of my life, from 2007 to 2023, in the form of music. I released it. Pressed it on vinyl. Hosted a listening party.

So yeah, I was at my lowest while hitting my highest.

That duality? That contradiction? It birthed a storm, but it also birthed a strength I didn’t know I had. It pushed me to keep choosing me. To keep doing the work.

Now, I’ve lost over 30 pounds and still have about 30 more to go. I need to get back into therapy—my last therapist left the practice—but I’m getting there.

I told one of my Frat Brothers I was thinking about blogging again and told him the premise. He said:

“You appear to be in such a realized chapter in life. A place where you’re budding, blooming/blossoming, and ready to share such intimate and vulnerable parts of you.”

I told him:

“I’m in a place where the things I’ve been through are starting to be fruitful. I’ve lived a lot of life in 33 years. I’m chasing my dreams. I had a blog back in the day, but now I want to speak from the place I’m in now, not the ‘woe is me’ POV.”

I want people to see what I’ve been through and use it to weather their storm. I want you to see me fall and get back up. To win with me and be inspired to win on your own.

Because healing doesn’t have an endpoint. Life doesn’t get easier. But it does prepare you for greater.

So yeah, life after Melanin Ever After?

I’ve been through storms. Flown over a few rainbows. But I’m standing tall with my BDE, Pouring a glass of whiskey, spinning life’s soundtrack on vinyl, And living another day down here as The Rebel Gent.

To check out my music, visit www.Kingfinity.org