tbt to my dad’s funeral when my family said i wasn’t allowed to show up unless i covered my face so i spent the whole time sitting in the back corner sobbing and looking like his mistress, even though he was in fact my dad. my sister’s father-in-law (i grew up with him as my pastor lmao) came up to me and said “who are you? how do you know the family?” like trying to figure out why tf i was there. i was like. “mf that’s my dad” and he points to the man next to me and says “who, this?” and i was like “no idiot. the dead one. the dead man is my dad.” and by now, the whole church is like at me. crazy to me how attending my own father’s funeral is one of my most humiliating moments to date. after viewing his casket, i ended up just sobbing and running out. a few girls from the church i grew up in followed me outside to comfort. they said “if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to reach out. i can’t imagine what you’re going thru.” i reached out the next day and neither of them responded.

tati was a sick fuck btw. i was sobbing bc of my many mixed emotions due to him dying from cancer after 4 years of me not seeing him.