For those who have known me for years, they know that I am about what I like. My clothes, my hair, everything was always unique. I cared less about what anyone thought for as long as I was comfortable and feeling confident in it I was good. Every piece of that person shattered and gone. My wardrobe kept shrinking, my clothes began to wear out faster because I repeated them frequently. I looked like I was going to church even when I was going to the mall.

I would get so stressed and depressed whenever I had to get ready for church because it was either this or that. It stopped being about the style and just became about not having anything. I would have killed to get a new granny dress at the least, I just needed something new.

My weight started dropping, I noticed it one day as I was taking selfies. My neck looked way smaller than usual, it was a little creepy too. My sister started to notice it too, I told her I had cut down my portions and it was working. A part of me was scared to talk about the real things that I was feeling and going through. It became more important to sell the idea that everything was grand, so I sold it.

This one Sunday as we arrived at church this one elder was standing outside. We greeted him and he said, ‘this is the best couple in the church, I love you guys so much.’

I just smiled and kept it moving, even then in my heart I knew something was not right. I started to imagine what his family would say or do if we broke up. What hell it would be to attend church, the questions, and the judgment. The thought alone made me sick to my stomach so I had to pray for this to work. I had to pray for some sort of turn around, for the sake of my sanity.

When it was good it, it was good. There are days when it felt like he could read my mind, catch on to my cravings and he would come home from work and surprise me with the one thing I would be craving at the time. They were times when we needed strength and we prayed together. He started to hate his job, working for a white man in a foreign is the actual ghetto.

Every day the 4 walls started feeling like they were closing in on me. I started to feel suffocated, I prayed but I was not sure the prayer left the room at all. Regret swallowed me.