Adiba Nelson

Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t get so sassy right now.

Nicely done, MAC. Nicely done.

Give me a minute please. I’m a little busy trying to decide if I should throw something, burn something, take my eyes out and dip them in bleach after reading that shit, have a woosa moment, or just. fucking. drink.

This book is real, folks. As well it should be –– it was written by one of the realest women on the planet.

[CN: mention of suicide] How did we get through love before Lemonade? We examined our lives through Mary’s shamelessly honest storytelling on My Life.

"I will peer relentlessly into every cop car I pass with a young black man in it, stretching my neck to make sure that it’s not my son who’s been arrested for driving while black, walking while black, or breathing while black. I will hold my breath while listening to every news report of another black man that has been arrested, beaten, killed, and made an example of."

There wasn’t going to be any sparkle. There wasn’t going to be any new mommy magic.

Then we had that talk that made my eye twitch: the budget talk.

I would break girl code. And if you love me, I hope you would do it for me too.

Where did you even get that statistic from? Did you make it up?