This book is dedicated to my experiences and God Almighty. If it had not been for Him and the many continued trials and tribulations I went through, I would not be here today to say, that I overcame what I thought was the worst. 

“What the devil meant for evil God turned it for Good.” – A Church Mother 

A letter to the Reader 

Dear Reader,

            Before you begin this online book journey with me, let me make a disclaimer statement of what this book is not; It is not a book about bashing Gays, Straights, individuals that are delivered, individuals that are backsliders, church folks, atheist, etc.

I am writing this book out of love, experience, and entertainment that could possibly relate to others dealing with the church, self-worth, depression, lust, and self-love. 

I choose to be the person that I needed when I was younger and thus “The Essence of Life” came forth.

When I grew up I said I wanted to be great; but I am great, so I was always destined to be me.

-Airreny Unbothered

Chapter 1


“I heard the church folks whisper ‘mmm, she got on pants, sacrilege! She playing drums mmm, sacrilege! She going to hell!’ I stood screaming enough is enough! I know I’m fine, but ya’ll think I’m sick, and ya’ll ain’t helping me heal not even a little bit. Yet an still ya’ll want to shout, praise, and say you represent Big G all these lies ya’ll tellin’ me.

What’s the truth? The Gospel. Well what’s the Gospel? The good news. Well what’s the good news? That Jesus died for you. So all that other bullshit ain’t legit? So it’s made up to scare the young out of having fun? What type of church ya’ll run? Sound’s like a cult to me; to have us believe anything other than what God has planned for me.

The God I serve doesn’t discourage me, he pulls me out of the deep and His son prays for me. So what if I’m gay don’t pray it away and if you think it’s my thorn well then leave it be, because we have thorns so God can step off His throne to make us humble before blessings come along.

What I read was that a relationship with thee is more important than the church you see, but you tellin’ me about my relationship that you can’t even see, so please don’t judge me I’m sure you know that it’s a sin to judge, because that job is only for the one above.

You stealin’ church money so you can stay stunnin you do you and I don’t say nothing I let you keep lying and frontin’. Oh you mad now? You got yo hands curled up? Come on then nigga please say something, knuck if you buck or just shut up. Mother speaks: ‘oh lawd please don’t fight in church!’

Jesus flipped tables over for these same things not to mention ya’ll let demons linger and then allow them to be teachers! They say ‘Oh so you ain’t no demon’ nah but we all have some. Some make it through but many don’t overcome.

A murderer went to heaven, so don’t think just because you a pastor, preacher, or deacon you a shoe in, your title doesn’t entitle you to nothing.

I pay my ten percent when I am able, God know my heart I wish I could do more God hears my thoughts. ‘Mm, at least I instilled something good in you.’ This is not about your pride not even you!

You think I do things my own way? You think that I don’t pray? No I get tested trial after trial while still having to look on the bright side and smile, so yes I gets mine and its deserved every time!

You can’t be shook by the path I took, because it’s destiny for me to be in controversy. It’s the Essence of the life of me.”

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“Soo, how was it?” Essie asked her grandmother. “I’m sorry, how was what baby?” “Seriously g-ma, were you not paying attention I have to perform this monologue tomorrow and it has to be perfect!”

“Well, why you picked THIS one, weren’t there others that you could have chosen? It’s so harsh and aggressive, it sounds like you’re angry, but why hunni?.” “Ugh! G-ma you seriously wasn’t listening! I wrote the ‘logue.

“The assignment WAS;” she sighed before reciting the assignment instructions for the third time in 15minutes. ‘write and perform an original work.’ Rolling her eyes she sucked her teeth, sighed and said with a raised voice, “never mind, you never listen when you’re high on life!” She began to stump out the living room whispering under her breath.

“First of all don’t walk away from me, you’re not too old to get that ass beat and I’m not too old to beat it! Watch yo’self Essie! You asked me how was it and I gave you my answer just because you didn’t like it, I mean, righteously I don’t give a rats ass about none of the shit you talk about anyway but out of my kindness, I pretend to listen.” Essie’s grandmother sneered at her.

Silence entered the whole living room while Essie and her grandmother stared unblinkingly into each other’s eyes for at least 20 seconds. Essie broke the silence and said “Bitch bye! Pretend? Your Kindness? She laughed hysterically and proceeded to speak in caution because she seen how antsy her grandmother had gotten.

“Forget all that g-ma, you can’t pay attention because you smoke a pound of weed a week!! It’s super annoying and I wish you’d stop sooner than later!” Reva allowed her granddaughter to speak her mind and occasionally step outside of the boundaries of parent and child, but Essie been trying it all week and her grandmother was a penny rub away from slapping the taste buds out of Essie’s mouth.

Essie’s grandmother wasted no time scuffling to her feet jumping over the living room table and giving a firm and strong slap across Essie’s left cheek. She slapped her so hard she bust her lip. “I really don’t know who in the world helped you lose your mind to call me a bitch.”

She was now so close to Essie’s face that she could smell the type of cigarillo that her grandmother had just finish smoking her Loud Kush out of. “If you ever in your soon to be short life span, talk to me like I’m one of your thot ass friends from the streets, I will not, mark my words I will not, hesitate to send yo ass back to that hell hole of a home you use to live in. Now, bitch that! Get the fuck outta my face before I hurt you for real! You done lost yo mind!!” Essie stood there holding the left side of her face while her tears began to rain down her face.

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Essie’s tears still streaming down the sides of her face now staining her neon lime green shirt, she looks directly in her  grandmothers eyes and spit the blood from her lip on to the floor and said, “send me.”

She ran up the stairs of her grandmothers small 2 bed and 1 1/2 bath town home, two steps at a time, up to her room and slammed and locked the door. She could hear her grandmother muffled voice talking shit all the way from downstairs. She plopped on her bed and cried in her pillow.

Cried because she didn’t want to be send back to live with her mother and father, cried because the pain of her cheek and lip from her grandmothers forceful slap still stung her face, cried because she felt her life was in shambles. She felt No one understood her, she was a lost soul in a lonely world.

With tears still in her eyes and tear stains on her cheeks she stood up and walked to her dresser it was a fairly small room so everything was compact.

Standing in the door way  to the left was a small school girl desk, right beside that was her night stand and her twin size bed was snuggled right next to her night stand right under the window seal. In front of her bed stood her five drawer dresser which not only held her clothes but also her 28 inch tv. To the right of the door was a built in the wall closet, big enough to hold a small child’s tricycle.

She pulled open the top drawer of her five drawer dresser to discover a flood of all her colored pens, pencils, journals, prayers, and hopes and dreams. She pulled out a new journal, cracked it open, and sniffed the pages. She loved the smell of a fresh new book to write in.

She grabbed a pink pen and while standing right there she leaned on her dresser, slid down to the carpet floor and began to write. It was different from what she normally wrote.

Usually it was about her secret crushes that she had on her girl bestfriend Fayba and her guy bestfriend Ian, her sexual experiences or just how her day went. But she decided to write about something she could relate to, she began like this:

   “Dear journal,

You probably don’t know me because this is our first time meeting, I know we could of met about two months ago but I didn’t have anything to say then, but I do now! First and foremost journie,(that’s your name for me by the way lol). I am Essence Grace-Merci McCray. I am currently (14) fourteen years old and heres my story.”              

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    For you to understand my story I must start from the beginning. I was born in May to a young mother. My mom had me at 16 from my grandpa or the man my g-ma was dating at the time.

She so happened to find my dad Keon to date and love her so she sexed him and said that I was his. Surprisingly Keon stayed around. Of course my mom was young so she wasn’t the best fit mother, she still isn’t, but hey I’m just the child here.

She would take me to clubs with her, byob parties, even hotel rendezvous. I could still hear the men moaning and groaning, “let me drop these kids in you.” I was always in the corner in a carrier crying my little eyes out.

As you probably can gather my mom really didn’t give two shits about anybody else but her damn self! I mean really, what mother would go out and do all these things while the fake father, of your baby is home. Confused, as to where you took his baby! Shaking my dreaded head. 

Essence paused her journal writing to scream “What?!” To her grandmothers, loud powerful knock on her bedroom door.

“Don’t what me girl! Open up this door now before I knock it down and choke the life outta you! You don’t lock anything in my house!!” Essence grandmother screamed at her through the weak, terminate eaten bedroom door that stood between them.

Essence sighed got up from the floor, placed her journal in the top dresser, close it and proceeded to walk to the door. As soon as she opened the door she fell to the floor landing parallel to her nightstand and school desk. She was caught off guard with a mighty punch right to her forehead.

Reva shook her hand and spit back, “You thought you wasn’t gonna get it?! When you talk to me, like a woman, I’ll beat you down like one. Start packing up yo shit you leaving tomorrow!”

Confused and in a daze Essence held her head with her left hand and with her right hand picked herself up from the floor with the help of her nightstand, stepped to the doorway shrugged her shoulders, slammed and locked the door and yelled “fuck you bitch! I been packed!”

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Check back every Monday @ 9 pm!

Essence heavily stomped from the door back to her dresser and  let out a big “UH!” as her grandmother banged on the door like a mad man. She plotted down on the carpeted floor and sobbed in both of her hands.

Reva sarcastically uttered,  “Oh No! Don’t cry now! Its over for you miss thang! Keep them tears for the type of bitch you thought I was!” “Shut up! I’m not crying about you!! Gosh! I’m crying because I’m finally leaving this place!!” Essence shouted back at her grandmother.

“You always give me everything I want and you wonder why I’m spoiled! Essence tautly spoke. It was silence on the other side of the door! Essence stood up and walked quietly to her door way, put her ear to the door.

She faintly hear the squeaking of her grandmothers wooden stairs as she walked down them. With a big smile and a confused feeling she jumped to her dresser to continue her writing with Journie. She double looked back at her bedroom door to make sure she had won the battle.

Itching for more?

Check back every Monday @ 9 pm!

It just gets more interesting from here!!



2 thoughts on “A-Page-Aday”

  1. Wow! Very enlightening. Keeping it real. Most choices are made from a person’s environment and life experiences. A person can love what they became form their life experiences and be hated for it and a person can hate what they became form their life experiences and be hated for hit. Whatever a person choice is somebody will not agree with their choice. A person’s love or hate for what they became should not be based on acceptance but based on one’s truth about the love or hate of what they became. Truth is a choice too.

    Liked by 1 person

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