Letting Go
Since Scottie responded, I slowed down on my texting activities. I no longer felt the need to prove myself who I was to him, why I mattered, or why any of this ever happened in the first place.
For days afterward, I sat in silence.
I sat in the dark.
I kept the television on mute to avoid hearing or seeing anything that would trigger my thoughts. I needed quiet because my mind had already become too loud.
And somewhere in that silence, I realized something painful:
This was never really about me.
His response wasn’t for me. It was for Gary.
Suddenly, my stomach tightened, and my body refused to let me summon the kind of hate I thought I needed to respond the way I wanted to. Instead, memories started flooding back.
In March, while attending classes to reinstate my driving privileges, I revisited the crash in Arkansas that nearly left me paralyzed. Then another flash came losing Devonte, watching him die in my arms.
Then another.
All the people who hated me because they believed I was trying to ruin your career.
I have held my tongue while watching a museum dedicated to “that man” being erected, knowing I was one of the key voices who helped secure that deal. And somehow, painfully enough, it sits across the street from where Devonte attended school.
I started connecting moments, memories, conversations, and pain. Piece by piece, things I had ignored for years suddenly began making sense.
Then we arrived at Prince Charles.
That was the moment everything changed.
It became clear that it was finally time for me to let go.
To stop lying to myself.
To stop forcing meaning onto things that never carried the love I wanted them to.
I wanted to be wrong.
But it’s okay now.
When I first met Dawn Hendricks through Brian Jackson, it was at Park West in Chicago during Janet Jackson’s Control album release celebration. Years later, I learned Dawn had close ties to Minister Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam.
Because of our conflicting religious views, our communication eventually became distant and stagnant. I still try to help when I can, but the truth is we come from two completely different worlds.
And the deeper truths eventually surfaced.
Dawn was involved with Scottie before Lisa, and during Lisa. There was never real love there only lust, confusion, and a lack of trust. I cannot lie about feelings connected to a man I always felt I had to share with other women.
The only thing that ever made my situation different was that I gave birth to his son.
And I have said before, honestly and painfully:
“If I had known DJ was a Pippen, he would never have been born.”
I am not an adulteress.
I do not covet another woman’s man.
I do not chase flesh, money, status, or fame.
That has never been who I am.
That was the moment I realized this entire situation had become a joke something designed to make me look bad while everyone else protected their image.
Until King Charles arrived…
and suddenly, the mask slipped.
Dawn, I did not know you during that era, and you spoke far too confidently about situations you never truly understood.
But today, I release it all.
You are free.
And I am free.
I truly do not mind acting as though I never knew you.
Send my blessings to Janet and to Deja’s father, Mustapha.
She can keep the man.
The child is mine, I am not going to fight about her... that's for the record.
I DON'T KNOW YOU... THANK YOU!!!
