Five days before Christmas, I learned that my 26-year-old cousin was shot and killed. This person wasn’t just any cousin. She wasn’t just any family member. Ever since she was a baby, she was like a little sister to me. And apart from her surviving sister, I don’t think I ever loved anyone more than Autumn.
This video was recorded two days after the funeral. The pain, the grief, the torture was fresh and for some reason…it just felt important to get my thoughts down. I already wrote pages before the funeral, but it was important to me to capture the visuals, the voice…the raw emotions. Mainly because of the pain.
I know people get crap for airing out their dirty laundry or taking to TikTok to cry it out. For me…when I write these essays or record these videos, it really is just how I breathe. My thoughts are hardly ever the popular opinion. My perspective almost always ruffles feathers.
So, 70% of the time, I’m watching what I say. I’m holding back how I honestly feel. And the sad thing about doing all that, is when you do that, people don’t really know me. Other than those who watch my videos or read my essays, with the exception of my dad and possibly my older brother, no one knows the real me. And if no one knows the real me, am I really alive? Have I really lived? Do I really exist?
That’s why I’m doing this. Because I exist.