Pretty vs Parent Privilege

Hey y’all! Guess who’s back! I finally left Los Angeles. Now I’m in Vegas but I don’t know for how long. I just know I had to get OUT of LA. It felt like I was suffocating. I’m here to talk about the power of pretty privilege and why I have to use it to my advantage against those that can’t. It’s nothing personal. Over the years I finally realized the advantages other people have over me. I call it “parent privilege”. When you’re an orphan you don’t even realize what a privilege it is to have parents. In society, IT MATTERS SO MUCH. They don’t talk about it publicly but there’s a reason why people choose to exploit orphans. It’s because the LACK of protection. Think about it: If an orphan had living parents, do you think they would ever end up in a sweat shop making products for a dime a day? Probably not. Although I am an orphan, I like to think of myself as a special type of human. A superhuman if you will. I realized since I was young that I had a power no one else could see. However I could never hide my pretty face. People treated me so ugly that I forgot how pretty I was. Ever since I moved out of Atlanta, I started getting the attention I believed I always deserved. I always been pretty because of my mother. I would stare at her pictures when I was kid and think to myself “Will I be this pretty when I grow up?” MY mother was so beautiful physically but she also had a beautiful voice and she wore her hair nice. She always had on jewelry and she switched her hair a lot. When I was a toddler, everyone knew I would grow up and look just like my mom. Everyone but me.

If I had to choose the main thing I’m the most insecure about, it would probably be untreated trauma. When people look at me, the last thing they see is the pain I may feel or the problems I’m having. All they see is a pretty face and then BOOM, they make their assumptions. Other people’s opinions of me are no longer my business so I try not to focus on that. However survival mode got me thinking “You better go out and look DAMN GOOD if you want someone to help you.” At some point, I had to stop operating from my masculine survival and create a feminine survival tactic. “The better you look, the better chances you have of someone giving you the help you need.” When I left Atlanta, it was because I KNEW none of them knee grows couldn’t help me with ANYTHING I needed so I LEFT.

However when I look back I have to ask myself “What exactly were you looking for?” That’s what has me stuck. I went to LA thinking, I want my story to be heard until I was challenged with exploitation. Now I am reconsidering if what I wanted is what I need. I became frustrated with it all.

Leaving LA was necessary because there’s no help for me there. It’s not the place you go when you’re in need. I believe LA is where you go when you want to go to the next level. New level NEW DEVIL

Wrapping up this year I have a lot to wrap my mind around. In December it will officially be 9 years that I’ve been celibate and it will be 2 years since my entire apartment burned down to the ground. Therefore, I need this year to end on a HIGH NOTE. I am determined to use my pretty privilege out of poverty and into prophecy. If it wasn’t for my trauma, I would give myself 10 out of 10. Maybe a 9.

The only reason why I reduced it is because I am not 100% comfortable with some physical features. Every feature about myself that I don’t like is some how linked to trauma or a traumatic experience. We talk about healing and recovery but some things are irreversible. Most of the damage that effects us the most is psychological. I know I can never have my parents back on earth but does that mean I should be jealous of others who use their parents privilege to get ahead? I don’t think that’s right but it would make sense if I feel that way. That’s why I don’t understand why other women get upset when I use my pretty privilege to get ahead. THIS IS ALL I GOT! I’m glad I look better than my problems.

It is a privilege to ask your parents for money, live with them, use their car, wear their clothes or even get a STUDENT LOAN. These are all privileges that I can never experience unless I’m the parent. There’s no way I’m getting pregnant knowing I still got some healing to do. Post partum depression is a real thing I hear but what about regular depression? Mild depression? Major Depression? How about NO DEPRESSION!

That sounds more ideal for me. I refuse to believe life has to be this damn depressing. I don’t care how conceited this sounds but I look TOO good to be depressed. Thats typically when I look the worst. Not everyday am I going to look my best or feel my best but every day I tell myself “You have to look good otherwise you will never get out these streets.” IF you think I’m wrong than tell me another plan

The great thing about not having parent privilege is connecting to those just like you. It feels good to sit back and laugh at how soft and sensitive the rest of the world is because trauma hardened you. Despite what people say, I think the best type of bonds are TRAUMA BONDS. People only speak down on trauma bonding because someone doesn’t have good intentions. The idea of being vulnerable with your trauma is risky so a bond is connection. When someone uses your trauma against you or they use your trauma to belittle you THAT’s when trauma bonds become TOXIC. For example, I would have trauma bonds with guys who also grew up “in the streets”. By that I mean, without guidance or proper parental supervision. However after we bond over our trauma and struggles, BOOM. Suddenly I’m the crazy one. How did we get here? HOW SWAY?

Trauma bonding should be sacred. I’m not against trauma bonding but if you are healing than you need boundaries. Sometimes people act concerned or like they “care” just so you can let your guard down. Traumatized people are smart enough to know how to put their guard up or bring it down when its convenient. It’s almost like a talent or skill. There are plenty times where I’ve poured my heart out, only to turn around and freeze my heart again. So yes, you may have gotten me to let my guard down but that was a test.

Now once it’s back up GOOD LUCK. That’s when they call me all types of names like mean, cold, distant, stiff or just a straight up SAVAGE. Guys used to call me “stiff” when I was growing up as in, she’s hard to get through or break down. I’m still pretty STIFF.

The reality is this: it is a privilege for someone to be vulnerable with you especially if they are an orphan. There’s so much that we go through that society NEVER talks about and it gives us a disadvantage. They may not SAY it but I KNOW it because I’m living that disadvantage. The only thing that I think is holding me up this long is my pretty face. That’s another reason why I’m so anxious to get off the streets. If I can use this pretty face to help those in not so pretty situations I WILL DO JUST THAT. Before I can help ANY other orphans, I need to help myself and I need to accept that I can’t do it all by myself. I surround myself with people like myself. I’m glad I have friends like Rose, Michelle, and Char the Star. We all lost our moms so I feel more connected to them.

Having friends that you can’t trauma bond with may trigger you. I would be triggered by my friends always receiving things from their parents even if it wasn’t material things. I would get jealous over little things like phone calls or even letters. When I was in basic training, everyone’s parents wrote them to tell them how proud of them they were. I got letters but never about how proud anyone was.

I’ve always celebrated my success as if my parents were here because even though they are not, I know they are happy for my accomplishments. Graduating military training was a HUGE accomplishment for me. MY flight sisters felt bad that no one came to my graduation to celebrate it. One of them had her mother write me a letter to say she was proud of me. I’ve had friends try and “share” their mother with me by telling me “You can call my mom “mom”. She’s your mom too.”

When me and my childhood friend stopped speaking I was sad for our friendship but I really felt like I had lost a family I was a part of. I think that hurt more than losing her as a friend. I lost my “pretend” parents with that friendship; I remember the last time I spoke to her mother. I called on Mothers Day

“Malon I just want you to know you are still like a daughter to me.” Her words meant a lot but I knew I couldn’t stay around their family. Once our friendship was over, I let go of everything associated.

Jealousy is a complex emotion. I don’t like it. Whenever I feel it whether its towards me or inside me, I try to understand the underlying emotions behind it. There’s always a reason behind a jealous feeling and if you aren’t willing to go deep into yourself to figure it out than you’re just gonna be a HATER.

I would never want to hate on anyone with parents so I don’t think people should hate on me for being pretty. WE all have to play with the cards we are dealt. I just happened to have orphan in my deck.

I’m playing my part by keeping myself up with my looks. Being pretty is more than a privilege, its my power at this point. If it wasn’t for me being pretty, I don’t know how I would have made it this far.

Eventually I will get my home and I’m sure my pretty privilege is going to help me reach that goal.

Yall pray for me to get out these streets ITS ABOUT TO GET COLD. I’m not trying to be outside.

GO FUND ME

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-malon-rebuild-after-the-fire

Slim Shady