Shay's Diary: One Shade Of Nude Is More Than Enough ( episode 1)

Shay’s Diary: One shade of nude is more than enough 

Dear diary, 

You know what they say about sports…  They say exercise relieves you from the stress, the pain. I just ran a couple of miles but I’m still pissed off. I’m angry. I’m always angry. The worst thing about going through a phase is not having anyone to talk to. Scrolling down my contact list, I’m unable to find anyone to talk to. So I just sit here…  Trying to figure out  why I let these things happen to me.  I’m trying to understand why I see but I do not understand.  So intelligent but I remain clueless. It’s  a long ride back home.  A very long ride back home… I’ve wandered so far away from  Him, I can’t find myself anymore.  I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know who I am because of men.  I feel used… My body exploited, my mind drilled and my soul starved.  The way I see men?   Bastards! Egocentric bastards.  It’s the same trick, the same game, the same steps… Every single time. First, they tell you’re amazing. “Shay, you’re special.” Different…beautiful… a queen. I’m always wifey material until I disagree with them.  I think the worst part of being a human is realizing that there are some things you simply cannot control… You can’t control how you feel, what you think etc…I feel paralyzed. It’s just the same old routine.  I don’t know if I’m just looking for love or I simply want to be owned. Sometimes… Just sometimes I blame my parents for this. They were so busy fighting each other that they forgot to teach me how to love…who to love... how to be strong.  They just keep telling me thinking I would understand… expecting me to know.  I still don’t know how to protect my heart. I wear my heart on my sleeve and it’s killing me. I just…  I don’t know what I feel right now.  I just know that I will heal and when I return… I will pretend nothing ever happened because the people I care about are nowhere to be found. I’m constantly asking God why I cannot seem to learn.  Even when I’m in His word, that vacuum in my life remains unattended. So what do I do now?  My story is long and…confidential. Well, my lovely diary, since you are my new found friend… Why don’t I just tell you my story? 

I had just gotten off work that fateful Friday evening. Tina offered to buy me a drink. I politely declined.  Not because I didn’t want to but because, firstly, she had been on my case for a while.  I don’t have anything against lesbians but Tina was a rare case. She chases me like a man would. She stares at me like a man would but her ways are that of a woman.  Tina is the only one to come to the office in a classy red bodycon dress with stilletoes, have all the guys thirsting but yet pretend she’s not noticing the attention. Secondly, I actually just wanted to spend some time with Byron.  Now that I think of it, I should have accepted her offer. I drove back home not knowing I was about to meet my death.  On getting to my apartment, I found my light on. Byron was in the kitchen having a glass of wine. I gave him a kiss, he didn’t seem too happy to see me. I figured he had a bad busines
s day so I went into my room quietly and took a shower. By the time I got out of the shower, Byron was standing at the bathroom door.  I got scared. He seemed very angry it was if his veins were about to pop out of his arms. 

“Why are you scared? Don’t you trust me anymore?”

“I trust you, babe. But something is wrong. I mean, you seem angry.  What’s making you mad?”

He walked towards me and kissed me. He wasn’t gentle. I knew he was going to hit me again but for what reason? I didn’t leave the first time, I forgave him. I didn’t leave the second time. I didn’t leave the third time because I was at fault. I took his insults and his harsh words every single time but I didn’t leave. No one told me to leave. Who even knew ? It’s the little things in this life that tarnish a woman’s self-esteem.  Men are professionals at it. They usually like feeding their ego by trampling on the kindness of a woman.  Like I asked God…  Why couldn’t I learn from mommy? I tried to calm him down but he pulled my hair and dragged me to the kitchen. My towel fell off my body and pain became my invisible robe.  He hit me…again and again. He threw off…literally. I can’t remember anything only the fact that he threw my toaster at me and poured hot coffee on my breasts as I was close to losing consciousness. Had I cheated on him to deserve this type of torture? All I could hear was bitch this, bitch that. Emotional hoe etc. I lay on the floor numb and in pain. Silently praying God would send someone to help me. I was too weak to scream so  I lay  there naked…bleeding…hurting. There  he was again, on his knees…begging.

“I’m sorry, baby…I don’t know what came over…me…Please wake up…”

But I was already wandering away in pain. I didn’t want to forgive him this time around. He tortured me…both emotionally and physically. God, is this how your church members are? Is this the same man I fell in love with ?  The same man who talked about God as if he were an angel? Hmmm. I laugh. The devil always comes as everything you ever wanted.  So I closed my eyes and plead for death to come take me.  He ran away and left my door open.  Byron ran away. Why did he do what he did? All I could remember was “ You lying, hoe! Talmbou’ you ain’t scared. I can see you shakin’” 
The last thing I remember are officers standing over my body and a woman covering me with a blanket, asking me to open my eyes.  The moment I opened my eyes…I knew I wanted revenge. It was hate that took over my soul. Bitterness was my oxygen. 
This is just the beginning of my story…the very beginning of it all. 
I’m tired, Didi… I will write you again soon.

Love,  Shay B. 

- The Alpha Female 

Twitter : @Ms_Sharinbaybeh


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