Excerpts from the Diary of a Diva

Yep, you read that right. The long-distance "romance" -- such as it was -- between me and Tinderfella has ended. It was going good...until it wasn't. The beginning of the end was when he stopped making me a priority. He would only call me at the end of the day when he'd given himself to everyone else. By the time he got around to me, he was spent. I hate not being a priority in someone's life. When my mom hooked up with my stepfather, I know for a fact he wasn't exactly happy about having me around. But he had no choice because my mom wasn't going to kick me to the curb for him. I always felt like I was the "value added" part of the deal. Because I hated feeling that way, I promised myself that I'd NEVER allow that kind of behavior and treatment in my own relationships. Straight up, though, the real nail in the coffin was much more blatant. We were on the phone when one of his daughters walked into his room. She asked him who he was talking t...

I hate long-distance relationships. Absolutely despise them. So, you ask, why am I currently in one? The short answer is, “I don’t know.” The real answer is, “I don’t know anyone locally that gets me.” Tinderfella is in New York. I am in Texas. Maybe I shouldn’t have let it get this far. Maybe I should’ve nipped it in the bud. But I didn’t. Now I find myself strung out over a man I won’t get to touch until September — IF I’m lucky. With my cycle and every other factor that could exert itself over my situation, I don’t know if we’ll get to see each other then. I don’t like this. I want to kick it with him after work. Maybe hook up and see a movie. Or not. We could cuddle on the couch or discuss the day’s events or just breathe each other’s air. I wanna watch his face light up when he sees me or frown when he gets mad. I want to learn his facial expressions and body language well enough to read joy, peace, anger, and hatred on him. Basically, I want to be with him in a real and meaningfu...

Sometimes I don’t know what to do. There are so many feelings that I’m having right now. For one, I don’t know what do at this point in my career. God told me that my money was in writing. So what did I do all summer? Worked on getting my teacher certification. Mind you, I don’t know that teaching is in my future. I just wanted to keep my options open. Walking by faith doesn’t work like that. I know that, but I let my fear, insecurity, and need to please my mother get in the way. I can admit that freely. I’m human. Now it’s the end of summer and I’m no closer to finishing my book…or my comedy sketches…or anything. The one thing I have been consistent about is working out. I wish I’d been as diligent about my diet. I’ve been doing intermittent fasting, but not as consistently as I should have. While I haven’t lost all the weight I want to lose — not even close — I think I look a little better in my clothes. And then there’s Tinderfella. I love him. I don’t know if it’s right or proper o...

How do you know when you’re in love?  For me, it’s always been an all-encompassing thing that won’t stand up to any kind of  denial. That’s how I’m feeling about Tinderfella. At this point, I can’t see myself with anyone else. He’s what I’ve been waiting for — a nice guy who wants to love me. He has future plans that include me. Even with my suspicious nature, I believe him when he tells me, “This will be the last birthday we’ll spend apart,” or “I see us together a year from now trying to figure out where you’ll be — here in New York with me or somewhere new.” When I was feeling bad around that time of the month, I told him that I felt unloved and uncared for. He said, “That damn sure isn’t true.” (I know that was a little on the dramatic side, but the pain is just that real to me.) So what’s the problem, you ask? I want to tell him. I’m sure he knows. I believe he loves me, too. But we haven’t said it. Maybe it’s too soon. After all, we haven’t seen each other in eight years...

It’s been a while since I’ve visited this space to share. What can I say? Life has been life-ing. I moved back to Texas. I can honestly say that it wasn’t my intention, but it was necessary because I wouldn’t have any peace in New York with my mom’s health in jeopardy. I finally put New Boo in the rear view. He comes up in my thoughts on occasion, but not like before. I still have love for him…probably always will…but I can function without wondering about him every moment of the day.  Now it’s all about Tinderfella. If you recall, I met him during the initial breakup. While I recognized him as someone special, I was in no way equipped to be with him. I was too broken. Eight years later, I’m so glad we waited. While I’m probably still crazy on some level, I think we have a real shot. First let me give some context…  I was in the middle of doing my show when he hit me up on my fan page. It was strange for two reasons — one, most of my friends just hit me on my regular page, and...

  What is 51? Good question. When we turn 50, everyone celebrates. “You’ve reached a milestone,” they say. “Life is golden.” But I turned 50 in a pandemic. At that point, you thank God for being alive. It’s still sweet, but different. A year later, I’m still thankful. But it’s different. It’s almost like a letdown from the “golden” year.  Be clear, though…I’m super grateful. I do NOT take my life for granted. I lost my first friend at 23. I realize that aging is a privilege not afforded to all.  To me, 51 means that I’m now “in my 50s.” No matter how much I try to deny it, I’m now considered a “woman of a certain age.” AARP is a real consideration and there are places I can take advantage of the “senior” discount. I also realize that I probably have more days behind me than in front of me. That’s a little daunting. But you know what? It doesn’t mean that I’ll give up. Life still goes on, and I have a lot to do before I get out of here. Most of all, I think 51 means not ap...