A Lesson From ‘Kier & Them’ About Therapy

So, I’m going to try and keep this post short today, son. Ok, yes, I say that almost every time that I write and I never follow through, man. In any case, I wanted to briefly speak about an Instagram video that resonated with me. Both my wife and my broski BK sent me a video from Kier & Them that touched on therapy. More specifically, the video highlighted the fact that people, especially emotionally-distant men, will never truly be happy until they work through their past trauma.

Ok, anyone who’s ever read this blog knows that I’m a BIG advocate for therapy. I mean, as someone who’s dealt with various bouts of depression, I owe my life to getting help, fam. Shit, as I’ve mentioned on this site before, between the ages of 19 and 28, I was a fucking madman, bruh. I always felt isolated, I put an immense amount of pressure on myself and instead of talking my issues out, I drank. A lot. Like, a whole lot, brethren. Frankly, I wasn’t necessarily suicidal, but I also didn’t care if I lived or not. All I know this, that was a terrible feeling to have when I was supposed to be raising a child.

Now, it’s no secret that my wife was the main person who inspired me to get help. Yeah, my homie Mitch tried to get me to go to therapy in college, but I wasn’t ready then. It wasn’t until I was faced with the possibility of losing my family that I finally woke up. All in all, I wanted to be better for her. I wanted to be better for our son. More importantly, I wanted to be better for me. I was tired of feeling like a prisoner in my own head. I was tired of keeping my loved ones at arm’s length because I was waiting for shit to go wrong. I wanted to give my son the love that I never felt as a child. Yes, my mother absolutely loved me, but she wasn’t the best at showing it. This was because it was never really shown to her either. All I can say is, the cycle is fucking vicious, bruh.

Moving on, the Kier & Them video did a great job of explaining the importance of getting help. Hell, social media LOVES talking about “couple goals,” but never talks about the difficulties in maintaining a strong union. The truth is, my wife and I have been through some shit, son. Now, I’m not saying that relationships have to be painful, but I can attest that they aren’t a cakewalk either. The fact of the matter is, both parties involved need to check their own trauma before they bring it to their companion’s front door. The way I see it, a functional relationship recognizes dysfunction and works through it. Plain and simple.

In the end, shout-out to Kier & Them for that dope video. Ultimately, I hope people learn a valuable lesson here. By and by, let go of the stigma of therapy and let go of any baggage that is holding us back. At the end of the day, that’s the real pursuit of happiness. That is all. LC out.

Am I The Only One Who Eats Bread Ends?

So, I won’t lie, son. On the real, this is probably going to be the most trivial post I’ve ever written. But, I have a serious question, man? Am I the only person who eats bread ends? Like, whether I’m speaking with my wife or my mother, they think that I’m the weirdest person in the world for not throwing out the ends, fam. Shit, my wife has already brainwashed our kids into believing that the ends taste different. All in all, am I the only one who’s an equal-opportunity bread consumer?

Ok, as ridiculous as it sounds, this topic has been a long-running debate in my house. Now, for some reason, my wife is under the assumption that there is something wrong with eating bread ends. In her eyes, the quality of the ends is different than the rest of the loaf. Because of this, she refuses to make sandwiches for herself or the kids with those particular slices. However, I literally don’t see a difference, bruh. Hell, to me, bread is bread is bread, son.

Now, in addition to my wife, my mother and a few other people that I know feel the same exact way. With that being said, I really want to know why, man? Is there really a difference to people or are folks just being extra/wasteful? Seriously, enlighten a brother, fam. Side note, I’m still going to eat the bread ends, but I legitimately want to know what type of time people are on. Anyway, holla at me, bruh.

In the end, nothing else needs to be said, son. Ultimately, I wrote this post just to poll my followers. Side note, I laughed very hard when I wrote “poll my followers.” In any case, it’s that type of Friday, man. By and by, I’m out here writing nonsense that’s not really nonsense, fam. So, let me know what’s good, brethren. That is all. LC out.

Conversations With Randi B.: Can Men & Women Be Friends?

What’s good, brethren? Randi B. and I did another episode of Conversations with Randi B. On this one, we chop it up about whether or not men and women can actually be friends. So, what else needs to be said, son? Check out the podcast below, fam. Yessir! LC out.

What A Difference A Decade Makes

So, here we are, son. It’s 2020, baby! Thankfully, I’ve made it to another year and another decade, man. All I can say is, the last ten years have been a wild ass ride, fam. In any case, I’d like to consider this post a tale of two photos. On the real, the smile may be the same, but the LC from the beginning of the decade is DRASTICALLY different than the LC from the end of the decade. Shit, let’s get into it, brethren.

First, let’s speak about the LC on the left. Real talk, I was a fucking train wreck at the beginning of the decade. At the time, I was a brand new father, struggling with my career, dealing with previously-undiagnosed depression, self-medicating with Jack Daniel’s and stepping out on my then-girlfriend/now-wife. Keeping it a buck, it was my lady who held up a mirror to my shenanigans. Based on my issues, she had every right to leave me. In fact, she did for a period of time. But, I understood that I needed to become a better person. Not for her, but for me. The truth is, being the best me would ultimately lead to being the best companion and father.

Moving on, let’s talk about that dude on the right. Now, this LC doesn’t have to hide behind a fake smile. Currently, I’m a husband who’s fathering multiple little people, working the best job I’ve ever had, performing my music again, blogging and drinking socially (instead of trying to drown out the voices in my head). All I know is, this transition didn’t happen overnight. Instead, making small steps at the beginning of the decade paved the way for how my decade ended. All in all, life is fucking beautiful right now, son.

In the end, I didn’t write this post to just talk about me, man. Ultimately, I want my story to be a lesson to anyone who’s reading this. By and by, folks don’t have to wait for a new year or a new decade to make a change. At the end of the day, if there are improvements that anyone wants to make, then start now, fam. In addition, don’t be afraid of slow progress. The fact is, slow progress is still better than no progress, bruh. So, let’s all be better together, brethren. My wife always says “there’s no such thing as stuck” and I had to learn to believe her, son. Let’s start this decade off right, people. Yessir! I love you all! LC out.

P.S. I’m super proud of the fact that I look damn near the same after ten years, son. Shit, Black don’t crack, baby! Well, besides a few years in the middle when I was unnecessarily fat. But, we don’t talk about those times, fam. Good day.

My Long Overdue Wedding

So, my voyage to marriage has been a random one, son. I mean, technically, I’ve been married for over a year, man. However; my wife and I just had our official wedding less than a week ago. All I know is, as unpredictable as my love life has been, everything has ultimately worked out for the best.

Ok, before I talk about the actual wedding, allow me to tell a quick story. Essentially, I’ve done this entire adult thing backwards, fam. Now, let’s see if folks can follow my fuzzy math, bruh. So, I have a 7-year-old son, a 4-year-old son, I’ve been married for over a year and I just had a wedding over the weekend. Confused yet? Ok, good. Anyway, I swear my entire journey to marriage has been some “Opposite Day” shit, son. Listen, I started with the kids and ended with the vows. But, regardless of how long it took, I’m just happy that my wife finally got the wedding that she deserved, man.

Now, when it comes to the ceremony itself, let’s just say it took A LOT of hard work, and money, fam. With that being said, I’d like to give our wedding planner, Fallon Carter, a HUGE shout-out, bruh! Hell, putting together a destination wedding is some wild shit, son. In addition, making sure all of our guests actually made it to Saint Kitts and Nevis is even wilder, man. All I know is, folks haven’t lived until they need to take a high-speed boat across the ocean in the dead of night (word to Tony). All in all, I can’t thank our friends and family enough for making this trip, people.

Anyway, when it came to the big day, I must say that everything went according to plan. Now, outside of the fact that I almost put our dance floor builder on the torture rack, the day was perfect, fam. First, my wife and I said our vows in between an assortment of palm trees. Next, we had our reception on the beach with tables, chairs, a dance floor and a tiki bar set up on the sand. Listen, the whole shit was swag personified, bruh. On top of that, we had 45 of our closest family members and friends help us celebrate. Look, I put up a good front, but the whole shit was emotional for me, son. Shit, I really couldn’t have asked for more, man.

In the end, I’m pissed as hell that I’m back in New York right now, fam. Ultimately, peacoats aren’t the wave when I was just sitting by the ocean drinking rum punch, bruh. Side note, my boy BK is banned from drinking anymore Killer Bee‘s, folks. Yeah, he knows why. In any case, although it took forever, my wife and I finally commemorated our union in the correct way. At the end of the day, everything happens in the right time, son. By and by, I love you, Triciah Charles. That is all. LC out.