If you follow me, you know my story.
By the time I was 16 years old, I was living on the mean streets of Baltimore, eating out
of trashcans and sleeping in urine and beer.
I took to the streets to get away from the negativity, the violence, I was raised in and with.
It was my ninth-grade math teacher, a Black woman, who literally saved my life. Because of her and her tangible love, I eventually graduated from Stanford University with a second master’s degree and a PhD. Currently, I hold FOUR degrees.
#realtalk: I was able to take all the survival that kept me alive on the streets and turn it into a system that fast-tracked me to the million-dollar mark in under three years.
You’ve probably heard me say it before:
My life is a miracle.
It was a miracle before I was even born.
I’m about to share some details of my life that you might NOT know now. And I’m doing that
because I want you to know I walk my talk.
You know I teach that, if you want to manifest millions, you HAVE to heal your heart. This is
not an option. You absolutely HAVE to heal your heart.
Well, I’ve just started a new kind of healing.
I don’t know who my daddy is.
But for the first time in my life, I’m tending to that wound.
I know I owe him my life. He kept me alive. My birth mother (did you know I’m adopted, y’all?)
didn’t want me. She had planned on aborting me. She had it all set up, even. But my daddy said
Not because he was gentle. Oh, no. I come from a whole line of hustlers, so it wasn’t like he was
being polite. But he WAS standing for me—for my life.
He did that, but then he didn’t come back. He didn’t come for me.
So I’m taking on healing my wound with my father, and guess what? It’s doing something
amazing for me.
It’s creating a space for Black men to come out of the woodwork to support me.
I’m talking about AMAZING Black men who move weight … who get it done.
And the truth is, they probably have always been there, but because of the wound, I didn’t see
them! I had no idea that this wound was holding me back.
Let me explain in another way.
I love God. Old Testament God. I roll hard in the paint with God. I love Jehovah. Because he
was a gangster! A beast. He literally flooded the world. If that’s not some gangster shit, I don’t
know what is.
But I could never get down with Jesus. Don’t get me wrong—it’s not because of Jesus. Jesus is
Cool! And I love him as a radical. I think Jesus is extraordinary because he was turning over
tables long before we deified him into something much tamer.
But fundamentally, I could never BELIEVE that a man would die for me.
I couldn’t see it, because I don’t have that frame of reference. I didn’t have a father, so I never put
But when I took on this healing, extraordinary Black men started to show up in service of
me thriving. (My whole Hollywood team is ALL men.)
Black men, brothers who are moving things, doing things, doing it right, being great fathers …
Do you see what I’m saying?
I’m expanding, my sisters and brothers. I’m making room for the men who love us, and I’m
BEing with what has really been in my heart for a while. I’m just now starting to speak it.
Thank you for standing with me while I evolve.
Remember, EVERY person has pain. No matter your race, sex, or religion.
You just have to be willing to heal.
Comment below, so we can bear witness:
What pain in you needs healing, so it stops holding you back?