“The Whitest Black Girl”… What does that even mean? That’s up to you. I’ve been called that since I started attending school as a child. I actually had never truly put any thought into it. I think when people call me that, they are referring to the sound of my voice, me being “uppity” and my “proper” use of the English language. Crazy huh? But that’s a topic for another day! What brings me here? A need for release and freedom.
I am a strong willed, opinionated, sarcastic and passionate individual. I’m 29 years old and recently divorced. 50 hours out of the week I work and when I’m not there I’m enjoying motherhood and learning how to be single after almost 7 years. I have a smart, independent beautiful 2 year old daughter who you will get to know shortly.
Truth be told, I’ve been through more troubling circumstances than I’ve realized. I’ve also had more success than I’ve ever thought I’d have. This blog is a safe place to help you and I to grow, learn and to get a better understanding of ourselves. This truly is an outlet for me. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that I did. I’d rather you just learn from mine. We won’t agree on everything (and I prefer it that way). I want to hear different perspectives because I love to learn.
This is Janee. My authentic self with no boundaries and no hesitation. All I ask for is respect as you embark on this journey with me.
Continue this journey with me on YouTube where you’ll find podcasts! Join me on Facebook and Instagram too! Visit links below!
So I’m wide awake around midnight Wednesday morning. I’m scrolling through Instagram and I see the Maxim cover girl contest. I send in some photos and think nothing of it as I sip my Crown Royal (aka my water). The next morning, I get a text saying that I qualified to compete. What?!?? So now…
No one gives 2 fucks about me. Why? It’s bc no one really knows me. They like the idea of me. The parts of me that I put on display. But it’s never the full me. I’m not dumb enough to show that. So if someone says they care about me…it’s automatic doubt that pops…
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