For Women Who Want The Ballerific Life!
Thank you so much to everyone that took the time out to read my post and the sharing of all your comments. I definitely appreciate Baller Alert and @Eleven8 for the support and the out let to share my stories. This will be my last post until my book releases this summer.
Peace, love, and womanhood.
I always wondered why women, for some reason, don't have a better regard for one another. When another woman enters a room, we look her up and down, while picking her apart, in an effort to figure her out. When men meet or see one another, they "shake-up" or nod to acknowledge one another's presence. Society has made it so hard for women to the point that we feel we need to compete all the time rather than aid one another. When a man steps out in us, our tendencies lead us to beat the other woman's ass rather than the man's. This matter becomes an even heavier ordeal in the Black community. I never understood why that was, I just only hoped that society's stigma would change in my lifetime for the better.
All these issues within us as women uphold a bigger array of disrespect and lack of appreciation from one woman to another. I have never been one to wreck a home, or jeopardize the emotional stability of a woman for the attention of a man. I always respected the sake of womanhood and never wanted to destroy it. Part of me feels awful about the way I found out about Eric Gordon cheating on his girlfriend with me. Even though I let her know that her accusations were true, I should have handled the sensitivity of the situation a little better.
Brandon Rush was probably the most emotionally attractive yet disturbed man I have encountered. He was so damn sensitive; the fact that he fell under the overly sensitive astrological sign of Cancer explained all of Brandon's emotional complexities. Before the Indiana Pacers traded him to the Golden State Warriors, Brandon spent a lot of his time complaining and feeling emotionally disconnected from his craft as a ball player. He longed for sun and beaches, as well as a stable situation to raise his son in the essence of a happy family; all of which Indiana lacked to provide. He was such an amazing father; the stigma of black fathers which illustrates not being involved in their children's lives was shattered when it came to Brandon. Everything he did some how always resorted to the betterment of his son. I think that's what attracted me to him. The fact that my father was absent in my development as a woman, and my step-father being the abusive jerk that he was, made me long for a man to replace what my father should have been.
Brandon and I, surprisingly, never actually had a physical relationship. We were always close, we even trotted the fence when it came to how personal and emotionally intimate we were, but we never managed to become an item. Brandon and I could relate because we were both very emotionally insecure people who searched through life finding the ultimate cures for our pain. It seemed Brandon was the only person in the world that actually understood how I felt, and he was the only person who knew the story behind all of my tears.
There wasn't anything about me that Brandon didn't know, and there wasn't virtually anything about him that I didn't know. Brandon was more than a best-friend, he was my muse, and together we were two walls bouncing our emotions off of each other.
Brandon had numerous amount of issues with his girlfriend Ashlee, and his problems with his then team didn't add to the stress. Brandon would turn to weed as a way to stimulate his mind and ease his worries and stresses. When a random drug test lead to the unveiling of Brandon's use of weed, he was suspended for quite a few games causing him even more stress. Stress that I tried so hard to take away.
I always admired Ashlee's position with Brandon because she had boundaries and limits with him, and whenever he crossed those she left until he learned his lesson. With Ashlee not being in the picture, I worried greatly about his well-being. I would drop by his condo unannounced so much that his roommate Ryan became annoyed with seeing me almost every day. What worried me the most was that Brandon for some reason felt like he was failing in a sense. I'm not sure if it was because of the way his career was falling, or because the love of his life chose to not deal with his infidelity issues and Brandon hated being alone, but the longer he stayed slumped into this sort-of lonely dark existence, the more the light at the end of the tunnel for him grew dim. I wanted to save him. I wanted to be his Superwoman and save him from the emotional pit that he had dug himself into, the same way that I dreamed about someone doing for me. I would come over and hold him as he laid in my arms and told me tales of all his agony and pains growing up as a child. He was put under an immense amount of pressure to be a professional basketball player because he had come from a long line of family members who had made their way into the NBA, do with him there was much pressure to continue the legacy. I almost feel as though if Brandon could have done something else career wise, then he would have.
Brandon wanted everything with his ex to go back to being perfect. He wanted to have that family unit and raise his son accordingly, but Ashlee had goals and visions of her own and didn't tolerate his cheating. Even though Ashlee seemed so perfect to him, it was obvious something was missing because he lurked about and cheated with multiple women as if he was in search of some void.
Whenever Brandon and Ashlee decide to go their separate ways, I was always there to mend the relationship by talking Brandon through his emotions without Ashlee's knowing. And when their love would reunite, I would step back, respect her position with him, and wait for him to call me or text me when something else went wrong. Even though I didn't know Ashlee, I felt as a woman to another woman, it was like an unwritten law that we should never want to cause another woman the emotional deterioration that came when a man cheated. I had been there and felt that a million times before,
If I could spare her heart at the slightest I would. I still managed to have a soft spot for her even though I felt like she owed me a thank you card for being there when she wasn't. Even with that, I still respected who she was in life and as much as I felt I deserved her position in Brandon's life, I never acted on any emotional impulses that I know would have lead Brandon and I down the aisle to marriage. I played my part and appreciated the role in which he gave me in his life.
It was long after Brandon returned from his suspension that he announced he had been traded to the Golden State Warriors. I was beyond elated for him because I felt like the constant sunshine and warm embrace that came from living in California would medicate all the emotional disturbances that Brandon had faced.
I had went to Oakland, California with Brandon to help him look for another condo. Brandon's entire move to California would have been basically impossible if I hadn't taken control of the entire operation, making everything perfect for Brandon's world. I looked up the best daycare's in Oakland and I even took the liberty of finding him a child friendly home that would be perfect and safe for his toddler son when he came to visit. I am even credited for basically packing all of Brandon's s**t and having it sent to the west coast.
I thought with all of these extra efforts and Ashlee being nowhere in sight for quite some time meant that I would be able to have Brandon totally to myself and give him everything his heart needed. So it comes as no surprise that I was morbidly devastated when Brandon told me he was going to move Ashlee to Cali with him and try to make his family work. I was so angry and hurt because once again I was making it easy for her to do what she wanted and to come as she pleased in his life. I was also making it okay for Brandon to treat my kindness as a yo-yo bringing me back and forth into his life at his discretion. So because of my feminist ways and never wanting to cause another woman unjust emotional destruction, I did what I was known for doing with Brandon, I stepped back and prayed that his life and his family would be all he imagined it being.
Lesson #9: Look out for your fellow female counterpart
To me, the most important rule next to not losing yourself would be: never tear down another woman to build yourself in his eyes. We owe it to each other to give respect to another woman for the sake of womanhood. I feel as if a lot of the issues that arise with women chasing a baller comes from the fact that we don't look out for each other. Men, they look out for each other. They tell each other their experiences with so-and-so, and as gratitude they heed the advice and keep it moving. But we, as women, don't do that. We hate and throw shade and sabotage another woman's existence, versus saving each other from the horror stories and agonies that come with dating in this industry.
Beyoncé said it best: "who runs the world? GIRLS!" We will never be able to do so if we don't serve as a ray of light go each other. As cliché as it sounds, it's as real as it gets.
It seemed Brandon's career soared in what appeared to be a brighter environment. I made sure I watched all his games, I watched as the Brandon Rush merchandise stretched from jerseys and tee-shirts to: bracelets, bobble heads, and major advertisements. I stayed in the foreground and saw the images on Instagram that alluded that Ashlee, Brandon, and their son had become the family Brandon always wanted. I was happy for him.
Six to Seven months would pass before I spoke to him again. The ESPN notifications that popped up on my phone served as the only linking connection I had to him. My heart grew with painful worry when I saw the headline of Brandon sub-coming a serious knee injury after successfully scoring a lay-up. He apparently came down too hard causing his knee to shatter, ending his season. I wanted to do nothing more than jump on a plane and head to Oakland so I could be by his side, but it wasn't my place. He had a woman whose role was to support and is there for him, and once again out of respect for her I let the situation be. The only thing I could do was pray for his health and hope that the injury wasn't too bad.
I would see pictures of him in his leg brace on Instagram and read the captions under his pictures which lead to my worries of his emotional state.
At my surprise, I received a text message from Brandon that read "hey". Him reaching out to me at this point lead me to believe that he was in a bad state. Brandon informed me that he was going to be in New York for about a few months for reconstructive knee surgery, he also made mention that he would be enduring the surgery alone. I was beyond pissed that Ashlee, for some reason, thought that it was cool for Brandon to go through something like this alone. I didn't feel it was mentally healthy for him to go through such a life changer by himself.
Two days after he told me he was in New York I decided to buy a plane ticket and head to NY to be where I know I was needed. Brandon had no idea I was in New York; I called him and asked for his address because I was sending him a "care package". When I knew he was home from physical therapy, I came unannounced and to his surprise. I think somehow he knew I wasn't going to let him do this without any support.
I practically became Brandon's servant. I cooked, I cleaned, I held him, and I was there to do everything the therapist instructed to regain his health. I was doing what she should have been doing, and I only did it because I thought the Ashlee chapter was over. It was some days before New Year’s Eve, and my intent was to stay in NY and bring in the New Year with him. I noticed him getting antsy about when I was leaving, and for some reason unknown to me at the time, I felt like he wanted me gone. I couldn't understand why. I had done everything he wanted me to do. I was there. I thought that going to NY to be with him meant that I was elevating our relationship beyond being friends; I imagined us being more because I was with him at a point in his life that was so critical.
We were eating dinner, which I had made, when I saw him ignore a phone call from Ashlee. It was then that I had figured out why he didn't want me there.
"Ashlee is coming here, isn't she" I questioned.
"Why you ask that" he replied as if I was some f****** moron.
"Because, whether you realize it or not, you have made it totally f****** obvious that you don't want me here anymore. It has to be her!"
"I mean she is the mother if my child O, like I want to see my son. How you gonna get mad at that?"
"I'm angry because you didn't tell me what was going on, you know I have always been understanding of the relationship between you and Ashlee and I respected my place" I shouted with so much pain in my chest. "I am angry because its more than you seeing your son because you tried to hide it from me."
"I don't know what you want me to say, you know what's up between me and her so I don't get the emotion".
"You don't get my f****** emotions? Why the fuckk isn't she here and I am? Why the f*** do you call me and not her?"
"Man that's you. You choose to be here. You expected some other s**t"
"No it's a f****** game that you keep playing with me. I know where we stand but..." I chocked holding back my tears. "Your right I allowed this to happen. I always do. I let it happen with you and every other f****** man I give my all to. I'm tired of f****** giving Brandon."
The way Brandon looked at me let me know that he knew he was wrong. I swear I saw a shadow cover his face. I think at that moment we both knew that whatever we had was indeed over. I went and began packing my things so that I could catch the next flight back home in the morning.
Brandon hopped his way down the hall and into the bedroom and just stared at me.
"What are you doing" he questioned.
"What the f*** does it look like nigga?"
"Just stop and come back in the living room please" he begged.
I stopped what I was doing and helped him get back to where the argument had started. I sat on the couch and he laid his head in my lap. We weren't on the couch or 5 minutes before he said...
"So you leaving tomorrow? Cuz, Ash will be here I think on the evening".
I looked down at him and gave him the are-you-f******-serious look, sucked my teeth, and pushed him off of me tossing him onto the floor. I was done. He just didn't get it. He got mad and started yelling and carrying on while his stupid ass stayed lying on the f****** floor.
"You better be glad I didn't beat the s**t out of your f****** worthless legs like Charlie Murphy you f****** b****" I screamed.
A lot of these situations I pretty much cause for myself, because I allow them to happen. I try so hard to find something in these men that will help complete me and make me whole. So I flop from one man to the next giving them fragments of me and keeping less of me for myself. Sometimes I feel like what I'm looking for is actually within me, but I lack the confidence in myself to find it, and with the absence of my father and the disappointments in the majority of the men I have been with I try so hard to get the love from a man that I know I need. Even though I know I could have stayed there and replaced Ashlee, who was I to hurt another woman that probably barley knew I existed?
But in a brighter note, I do feel that my experiences only make my heart stronger, because I notice the wrongfulness and I can sense the pain a lot sooner; all these things I hope will help other women and in return help me.