Not everyone trending is chosen. Not every baby mama is forgotten. Leah was loved last — but crowned first. Read this one if you’ve ever felt passed over.
That was how the boy in my dream looked at me with so much affection, I muttered, “there goes another stupid son of Adam.” But when he wouldn’t dare speak it, I respected him — not so stupid after all.
Me, I knew it, tested my limits, and I am here to say — I am the prodigal skirt wearer. Never again. Sometimes, the road to modesty is paved with inbuilt shorts, a mischievous breeze, and friends who love you enough to say, “Babes… cover small.”
My laptop flew off the desk… and everything blurred. Five years of research. A looming deadline. My entire thesis. I just sat there — hot, cold, angry, blank. And still, I didn’t shout. I didn’t thunder. I didn’t let my disappointment speak.
He asked for wisdom. He got it. Then he collected horses, wives, and regrets.
This diary entry is a hilarious, heartfelt reflection on Solomon, divine love, and what it means to be wildly blessed even while our foolishness is still loading.
By the time Florence got the full story at church—thanks to Barbie Doll—her mental ledger of our offences was flipping through pages like a litany on an invisible scroll.
Dear Diary,January 7, 2025 I am not an actress, so I wonder why my life is full of drama. Today, I was so mad that I began to laugh. Ask me what happened? I woke up at 6 a.m., and all I wanted was a quick hot bath to kickstart my day and set the
Baby Mama with the Crown
Not everyone trending is chosen. Not every baby mama is forgotten. Leah was loved last — but crowned first. Read this one if you’ve ever felt passed over.