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  • Writer's pictureJin T

That Bitch M.I.A

What’s up Bald Heads. It’s a perfect day for a random blog post, isn't it?

As you know this blog contains affiliate links. There is no extra cost to you when you use them but I do receive a small commission so help ya girl out.

We are approaching the anniversary of my most played episode of The Bald Headed Chronicles Just Do The Thing! If you have never heard it.. Here it is.

In honor of that I want to take you back in time so let’s get in the Delorean

Here we arrive at 02/11/20 time 4:57 am

I’m disorganized

I’m disorganized

I’m disorganized

That was the only thought that kept coming to my head as I sat in meditation.

I unplugged to replug. I wanted to just log off... So I did.

I got ghost. I went M.I.A.

I was trying to process a major life event without really speaking about what was happening behind the scenes. I’d just started letting my voice be heard 6 months prior and here I was with the audacity to be hosting my very own radio show.

Not to mention I had been showing up on social media way more than ever before in my entire life. Not many people knew anything about me because I was a ghost. I would pop in like Casper the friendly ghost then pop out and go back to minding my bald-headed business.

I enjoyed having the opportunity for my voice to be heard. I hadn’t had that many times before. I thought for a few months then bought a mic. February 2nd, 2020 was the day I pressed play on the thing and started talking, I hit publish, and just like that, I’d done a thing.

The Writings on the Walls:

I’d been out of the interlude for about 2 years and not many people knew that I had finished it or that I was even stuck in one. I was ready to talk about it but not publicly because I was still processing and in limbo with the label. I was waiting to be released from my contract but I was signed to death row.

I was out here. Out here in the wild confused and I wanted to walk in the forest for a while to hear myself. I wanted to go back to my old ways of disappearing for 3-5 years only coming out when I felt like it. But I’d unintentionally started to build a community. People were looking to me for advice and I was looking back at them like

1st reaction:

2nd reaction:

People were coming out like roaches and I didn't know why. Then it hit me... that thing I had done 6 months prior then again in February.... they secretly listened, read, and lurked in their own time. They read and they judged. They tried to figure it out and they came to me for help or to offer advice to things they thought they had figured out for me. By then I had no idea what they took from what I said or even what they were talking about. I dropped it and just moved on to the next thing.

Like Monica, by the time I release it, it's old news.

My tiniest friend told me 5 years prior “ Jin if you do this, people are going to think they know you based on what you post now. They won’t pay attention or even be kind. They won’t care if you need to step away. They are relentless so prepare yourself” I didn’t think anything about it because I wanted to try it for myself. I didn't want my friend's fears to become my fears. It was just something fun to do to show my sister how to slide past fear and put her art into the world. If you follow the show or my journey at all you know I have a gang of siblings and my baby sister is an underground artist. I love my “kids” and when they ask for help I help them.

My sister asked me for help navigating her mental health journey. I gave her a lot of tips and went back to minding my bald-headed business. She came back and said “I want to start a podcast,” I said DO IT. She gave me 10000000000000 reasons why she couldn’t but she told me that she read my social media posts and when I released my podcast she tuned in faithfully. So now I’m looking at her like this

Knowing she was watching, reading, and paying attention kept me going during the times when it got hard. I figured she would launch after knowing everything I was dealing with and continuing to go consistently. She pulled me to the side and gave me 100000000 more reasons why she couldn’t do the thing.

I took another deep breath and recorded my most played episode “Just do the thing”.

If you skipped this link earlier no worries here it is again.

Welcome back! What was I saying? Oh, yea I didn’t care about was who else was listening. This became a healing project and it was fun. As I continued people started whispering to me more and more. I kept all these whispers and used them to bring content to them. In the second season, I had people on the show to encourage my bald-headed whispers. By then we got hit with Ronesha and everyone was at home watching IGTV. Meanwhile, I’m stuck living inside the radio trying to stay off the screen and scene. I became a 113-year-old woman overnight. I refused to get with the times. I didn't care about my following or what they were doing, to be honest, I had no idea what the hell was going on on the innanet. I was trying to focus on my bald-headed and raggedy life offline. I wasn’t subscribed to the things the people were subscribed to. I tried to do the social thing for business but I didn’t like it because my real business wasn't ready yet. It was still cooking People were rude and shady but calling it jokes to cover up the fact that they lacked emotional intelligence and thought the words empathy and sympathy were the same things. I'd grown out of that mentality so I ignored a lot of it and said "poor things must be working through something they aren't ready to deal with."

If you followed me when I was @jininwonderland you were probably shocked when I killed her. Yup, I committed social suicide.

I changed my name to @thebaldheadedchronicles to shift things into focus for the pod. There I was popping for a hot .27 seconds where the "Beginner to Beyonce" study level 2 started. I flew all around the internet offering support while trying to figure out my target audience. That was the hottest .27 seconds of my life. Then my account got hacked.

I was fed up and said you know what…. Just throw the whole entire bitch away and just stay offline. Go back to being a ghost.

Then here comes this bitch M.I.A with a gang of raggedy and bald-headed friends looking to me for guidance. By then I was focused on healing the relationships between my nana and I as well as the relationship with my biological dad.

Chile I shoulda left the ghetto in the ghetto. But I knew that in order for me to heal I’d have to have hard conversations that no one wanted to have. No one wanted to dig into why they were the way they were but me. I always wanted to know why I was like this. I gave my nana a chance to feel heard and what I learned was that this was something she never had before. I also learned that she didn't know how to listen because she'd never been allowed to speak without interruptions. I could empathize so I spent time listening to her and letting her listen to herself. I challenged her ways of thinking and while she didn't like it at first she started to challenge her own thoughts. She enjoyed it and I enjoyed seeing her healing.

The Bald Headed Chronicles gave me the opportunity to meet myself and the corner of fear and anxiety. This also gave my family and friends who listened the chance to hear what I had been hiding behind the mask, what I had been working on, what I'd learned in my programming etc. I'm not just a silly little bitch making you laugh out loud. I have substance and a lot of it. I'm just nerdy with a dark, dry sense of humor that enjoys solitude but also likes to commune sometimes just not all the time but like when it's planned but also sometimes when it's spontaneous. You know... strategically planned.

I was happy and content. I was ready to retire for the social media/podcast game. I didn't want the attention I just wanted to finish spending time getting to know my family. I only paid attention to my little whispers. I could hear them the loudest and they were seeking healing.

An Episode: My Dance with the Devil

I'm not sure if you have heard of it but I read this book called "Interview with the Devil- The secret to success and freedom" by Napoleon Hill. Here is a link for you to listen to it.

On May 26th, 2020 I was physically abused by a family member. Got my ass BEAT so bad I couldn't think straight, my ears rang for about a week, and so on and so forth... Blah blah blah no one wants to hear that. No one actually cares about

child abuse because well I'm grown-ish.

As I sat there with tears in my eyes and a busted lip I said welp I'm out here. What can I do? I didn't speak about it because well I wasn't trying to be an "attention-seeking bitch" as someone I loved the most in this world called it. At this point, I was like Effie we all got pain. Literally, no one cares. So just shut up, keep it to yourself and do your things. I went to the cemetery to visit with my uncles and great grandmother to tell them what happened and I got some messages that reminded me that this too would pass just stay the course.

I rolled out a yoga mat and started playing some trap music. I felt mentally trapped and the only way I knew how to get myself out was to let it flow. I took a deep breath and kept trying to mind my bald-headed business focusing on my personal healing. I had several mental breakdowns because of this. But I kept showing up for myself with my back against the wall and zero odds in my favor. Healing and dealing, I was NOT WELL and I wasn’t talking about it to the public.

I let people speculate. I let rumors fly off the handle. Eventually, I just went M.I.A trying to get me together. Ignored a lot of calls and missed out on a lot of opportunities because I needed to work on some art.

The little people I never forgot about kept checking on me. I kept telling them I was okay and everything was fine so that I could heal without people offering their two cents. From experience whenever I would tell someone something that was happening they would be very quick to offer their opinions rather than their support. The people would give their "support" based on how they might need to feel supported instead of honoring or asking me how I needed it as I figured out what I needed in those moments.

I just kept wearing my mask until I took the deepest breath I'd taken all day that day and I started practicing EXTREME, EXTREME self-love/self-care. I just need a safe space to do it in. I used yoga and meditation to help me get through as much as I could I went from meeting with my counselor monthly to meeting with him weekly to help get me through the crisis. I started hearing rumors and speculations from my OWN PEOPLE but I didn't care. I let them fly off the handle. I let people, people because that's what people do. They people. I did nothing but take care of myself the best way I could. I went thrifting, I found skates and I went back to the year 2000 when I originally started swimming in the deep even though everyone else around was in 2020.

I got on my mat and learned to surrender to what was happening in my life at that time. I recommitted myself to my personal practice. I wasn’t showing up for anyone but Rose. I didn’t let anything stop us from doing the things we needed to do to feel like us again. If that was sitting by myself and writing that's what I did. If that meant getting out in nature and taking pictures that's what I did. Any form of movement my body was doing I called it art. If I was breathing it was art, if I was lifting my leg I called it art, and so on and so forth. I was learning how to be content with where I was in my life with myself. Living my best life and my worst one in the same breath. I learned how to embrace the sweet with the bitter and just keep mixing, and fixing the sauces. My roots spread so fast that I had to uproot myself so that I could bloom again.

I had to dig out the weeds that were choking the flowers growing in my mental garden.

Long story EXTRA EXTRA long I wanted to mind my business but you needed a reminder on how to be kind while you were working hard. I showed up because when the students are ready a teacher appears. I was just a substitute. You were really the teacher.

All that to say... If it weren’t for that Shady Bitch M.I.A I don’t think I would have continued to do the deepest healing work of my life and you probably wouldn't have either. Or maybe you haven't even started. Maybe you don't know where or how to start.

For me...I’m still doing the work. It gets more challenging every day but it has to happen in order for us to keep growing. Each one teaches one right? Shine your light and pay your taxes. Someone in the city needs it.

Now for the links:

If this blog was a lot to process. I feel you…. Here is a playlist for the people who are kind and work hard.

If you enjoy this content subscribe and share it with 2 people who may need it. We will start having forum conversations soon.

If you still haven’t ordered your copy of The Bald Headed Chronicles The Book here is the link

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As we get back into the Delorean I ask that whoever is reading this inhale taking the deepest breath you have taken all day (pregnant pause) as you release the breath smile honoring how far we’ve come. I didn’t do this alone and neither will you.

Until next time remember we are all bald-headed under our hair so thank you for minding my bald-headed business.


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