It was my neighbor from upstairs. He was ringing to chat with me and make sure I was good. In his words, the whole time, going back to the wellness check, he “thought I went on vacation and forgot to take the trash.” =/

“It’s possible for you to live the life you want and love that life without…” - Rachel Cruz

In the words of my 65-year-old neighbor, “Find someone who’s going to love you. And if he’s not black, let him love you anyway.” Read more on spottieottieblackgirl.com!

He named me, Ifeoma. It was the Summer of 2018, and I was hanging out at Le Reve — a popular midtown bar that curated the vibes — with my best friend, who was visiting NYC for the weekend.We were standing by the bar, when this fella, who was clearly much older than me, but still young, started making conversation…

There I was, drenched in water, after walking out to a downpour of rain. I was holding onto a big box containing a package I had delivered to my job, my hook-handle umbrella, my cross-body gym bag and my purse, struggling to get from my office exit to the train. I was stressed.

"We as a people have lost our traditions," she said. "50 years ago, you would never hear that.  We would be sending for people to come up and they would get here and we'd help [them] do what [they] wanted to do. You don't hardly hear of that anymore"