Skip to main content

The Return of MackDiva

Have you ever felt like you were destined for greatness? It's like your potential is bubbling right under your skin, but releasing it would be too painful an endeavor. That's how I'm feeling today. I'm so desperate to expose my true self that I'm willing to slit my wrists and let it flow out.

Okay, before you start calling those nice young men in their clean white coats to take me away, hear me out. I'm stuck in two dead-end jobs and I feel like I'm gonna scream. My radio gig is cool, but I don't see any room for advancement. That doesn't sit well with me at all.

My teaching gig has the potential to be satisfying, but it's not. I have a boss who'd rather not be in his position, and kids who really don't want to learn. I sometimes think we need to crack their heads open and pour the knowledge inside. While there are some really good kids here, I don't necessarily think I have what it takes to get them where they need to be. In addition, I'm tired of the pettiness of the workplace.

Radio is one of the most volatile professions in the free world. With media mergers happening left and right, job security is obsolete. Since it's the only thing I've done for the past ten years, I'm feeling very stuck. Mind you, I've explored more options in the field than a lot of people have, but it's not enough.

With all that being said, my breakthrough is on the way. God is opening so many doors for me now that I've done the play. For one, I've met some really cool actors and singers who respect my talent, and I'm going to be working with one of my co-stars on her debut album. Pretty cool, huh?

More importantly, my confidence is slowly but surely being restored. My friends would probably be surprised to know just how insecure I can be -- especially when it comes to my gifts. When I was in high school, one of my nicknames was Whitney Dallas. However, as the years have passed, I've been feeling like my dreams of musical stardom were unattainable. Performing in Uncle Fletcher's Money has given me hope in my abilities again.


Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…

Out of Time

Time. You always think you have more...until you don't. I'm there.

I just left the doctor, where we discussed my fibroid. She said it was huge. So huge, in fact, that she couldn't get it all. If there's a need for another surgery, it'll be a hysterectomy.

I want babies. I want to be someone's mother. I also want to be someone's wife before I become someone's mother. And therein lies my dilemma.

It would be stupid for me to have a baby with My Teddy Bear. That's the reality of my life right now. But it would be even stupider to have a child with New Boo. Not only does he not want any more babies, he does't take care of the ones he already has. I would be an absolute idiot to attempt procreation with him. And as quiet as it's kept, I'm not interested in raising a child alone. I want my baby to have a mother AND a father.

So here I am, a 46-year-old woman who's run out of time.