noun: someone; a person (more so woman) who puts forth the less fortuitous before themselves in compassions of nurturing and honoring the distinct.
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ONIKA MARAJ
Deer ms Nicky.
Anyone could see from my natural resting face I wasn't one to toy around or be toyed with. It wasn't anything I put forth effort in holding, or rather flaunting, it was just my face, and it plainly rested giving off 'that bitch' attitude.
I'm sure it's why ninety-nine plus the additional tenth of the next nine, didn't fuck with me right off the back. I was an untouchable public figure for starters; Robert Maraj was some industrial mogul, so it was unorthodox normalcy that others not close to my family weirdly bowed down. I actually hated the mean, but it was nothing I could do to stop, change, or revise the tradition. I was still human, and it felt fairly odd constantly being upped to a higher position and that's outside of the fame alone.
All of my wishes of wanting to be that normal, average person were way out of the question in reality everywhere else, but amongst my own comfort where I didn't have to be the well-known Nicki everyone else sought, I was her. I was normal, treated like the average being and I still had feelings, a rosy heart pumping bright red blood, and skin tough as the next's.
It was seldom I'd step out on a regular basis, getting that treatment, so wherever I could get the solidified gratitude, I submerged myself in. It's why I practically stayed out of the country more than I was home. My interaction with people was two different ball games in the Northern part of America versus South America. As expected being that the cultures were a vast variety of diversity itself and too, I personally could move more freely outside of my country.
Walking around with the label as a young, black, and successful woman was the equivalent of having the best of both worlds. I was foreseen to excel in everything put forth my path just as much as I was suspected to fail everything set in stone along my way to the top, where I was headed. Sooner or later, but it always tied back to either or.
The stereotyping came into play on the edge of my light skin; literally. To bring it together before I expand again, I was apparently far from human let my notoriety tell it. I had a natural "resting bitch face," which refrained others from approaching me because they swore up and down I was going to be a bitch and my skin was 'redbone light,' so without a judge of genuine character, I, off the back, was the stereotyped bitch of a bougie rich light-skinned black woman. I fucking loved it, not.
We all know I'm never going to sit around and talk about myself if it were all up to me. I'd tend to my heart's wants, nimbly without a second thought towards my actions and that was nine times out of ten, in the course of granting my convenience to whoever. But lately, I've had my fair share of the bullshit.
One, I was tired of being tired. While I did put my heart on the line to help any and everyone who needed and or desperately wanted it, it was only so frequent that I got the same reverence back. Not in such a way that I only did what I did for praise and two, the same flipped in return; I was fully aware the trade wouldn't always be a fair trade, but it was a matter of abundance and I'd definitely been giving what I wanted to receive in the world for years.
