It’s My Birthday, I'll Cry If I Want To!
Hey Siri, Play Free X Destiny’s Child.
Hey Siri, Play Free X Destiny’s Child.
There is nothing I enjoy more than TRASH television. You know? The “so bad its good type of television”. Think “New York” from Flavor of Love, love triangles, baby mamas, and mess. The brain rot is necessary to get through the upcoming week. And the reality show that wears the crown for my home is Real House Wives of Atlanta OG cast before lace font and N*N*’s *alleged* nose job. IYKYK those black queens carried it! Hell even as the franchise is dwindling they still have reality TV on their backs. Bringing me to Ms.Sheree Whitfield, say what you want but that's a cold piece. She wasn’t lying when she said “Old & Cold, b*tch”.
Ms. Whitfield (I don’t know that lady like that) is all of 55. Do I consider that old? No, to me old people are dead. If you're above ground you are indeed young, haha.What age do you consider to old? At 20, I thought 31 was old. Silly silly girl.
Old Hating Ass Heaux!
If you were on the receiving end of me saying “you’re an old hating ass hoe.” I meant what I said at the time. I am not sorry. I do acknowledge my use of the word “old” was unnecessary.
Did I mature? No, but I am now also an “Old hating ass hoe” my damn self, hahaha. Because, well, I celebrated a birthday. 30 days into 30 and I have to ask the my young girls.
Why is the music up so loud?
Why are you wearing hoodies in 90 degree weather?
Are you vaping?
Why do you like Ice Spice’s music so much?
Why are you letting the 35 year man waste your youth?
*inserts more complaints I am hilariously posing as questions for my young girls*
I am tickled by the notion that age 30 is considered “old.” I’ve been looking forward to this birthday. Aging shaming is such low-hanging fruit. Yet, society knows how effective that little zinger can be—second only to, “That’s why you don’t have a man” or “That’s why you can’t keep one.” A man, a man, a man. Damn it, it’s always about a man.
Ageism? A man, a man, a man too.
Walk with me, Diva. Walk with me. Ageism is essentially a tool to short the stock. Just look at how the world treats women as we age. It greets us with contempt while selling anti-aging regimens to fucking tweens.
Shorting a stock means betting that its value will drop. Investors borrow shares, sell them at a high price, then buy them back once the value falls. The difference becomes their profit.
Patriarchy treats us like assets that lose value over time. Working devilishly hard to convince women their value will inevitably decline.
And when it does? And when you are feeling low, they will swoop in knowing you will accept low.
There are people, men, women, lovers, family, friends, even a hater banking on their words and actions damaging your self-esteem enough that you become ever compromising. They want you to accept less in relationships, settle for lower pay, and believe that what you once deserved is now out of reach. The lower you feel, the easier it is for them to “buy you back” at a discounted rate. Your time, your energy, your power. All for far less than your actual worth.
Look at me giving y’all a hard time about everything being about a man. Here I am wasting characters about a man. LMFAO
I had all that on my mind as my 30th approached. No wonder this birthday felt heavier, quieter, more sacred. Not because I feared aging, but because I finally understood what it had cost to get here.
It's not accurate to say I changed. Not this early in life, diva. I personally don't think most of us under 40 even know ourselves well enough to “change”. With every year, we unfold, and if you're brave enough, you explore the crevices of yourself that have never seen the light of day.
Life Lately
I woke up on March 4th feeling the exact same. I had envisioned waking up and experiencing the equivalent of a man’s balls dropping (oops…a man, a man, a man). All jokes aside, I really thought there would be some kind of physical proof that I was officially a grown-ass woman. Like, something to mark the occasion because, honestly, the milestone feels too significant to just happen with no sign.
I’m actually going to suggest to God that he cook up something new for the next batch of humans he’s working on in 2025. Can you imagine if we grew a 40-inch bust down for our 30th birthday? LMAO. A physical manifestation of stepping into your next era like molars breaking through when you’re a kid.
Now that would be a proper milestone. *drops in the suggestion box*
Back to me and my birthday. Historically, I’ve been one of those annoying birthday people who act like their birthday is a national holiday. Forget my birthday if you want to. I’ll forget you, haha.
But this year was different. I just didn’t care... you know?
-I walked 30,000 steps to commemorate the day
-Ate cake with my family
-Smoked
-Slept
I purposely deactivated all of my social media too. No pomp, no circumstance.
Year 29, I decided to stop being a passive participant in my life. The year 2023 taught me a lot. I am still convinced 2023 will go down as one of the worst years of my life. I leaped into 2024 with an insatiable appetite; life had “did me,” and I had every intention of “doing it back.”
I made a commitment to myself: once I got out of that situation, I’d wake up with gratitude every single day and actively pursue joy. I won’t go into detail in this blog, but just know 2023 dragged me. A slow unraveling. Career confusion. Emotional isolation. Grief I didn’t have language for yet.
Do you know the difference between joy and happiness? Kirk Franklin explains it perfectly in SMILE
“I don’t want you to just be happy
Because then you have to have something happening
I want you to have joy
Because can’t nobody take that from you.”
I wanted to carry joy with me regardless of my circumstances. I wanted to feel it. To let joy ground me in what I chose to believe: a bad moment is just that, a moment. It didn’t need to define my entire day or my life.
As you can imagine, pursuing joy was no easy feat. I was going through it. By 2024, I didn’t have a single tear left in me. The mental fatigue was wearing my body down to nothing. No exaggeration, even my eyelids ached when I blinked. Honestly, it took more effort and energy to choose joy than to sulk in my feelings. But divas, there is power in the ability to choose. And I made that choice every single day.
I had many hard moments in 2024.
However, I did not have a single damn bad day.
Read that again. If I had two bad moments in the morning that just meant I had to create at least three good ones by 11:59pm.
My Dopamine Menu Consists
Masturbation
Sipping root beer in the car
Afternoons at the library
Facetime with girlfriends
Prestige skincare products
Solo-diner dates at Devons
Sarah Jakes Sermons
3 hour gym sessions
Walking the river front
Creating a dating profile to never respond
Ice cream dates with my niece
These aren’t just things I like. These are the tiny rituals that remind me I’m alive. That joy doesn’t have to be big or loud or broadcasted. Sometimes joy is quiet and personal — and still valid.
Day 65/365
Life at 30 feels different. Lighter. Freer. Because I made the decision that it would be. I chose ease. I chose myself. I became a choiceful woman.
On day 65 of being 30, I could not sleep. I was wired. For ten years I dreamed about honeymooning in the Maldives. And the next morning, I was getting on a 22 hour flight to the Maldives. Not for a honeymoon. Not a baecation. Honestly, that part made it even better. It was personal. It was proof.
Proof that I keep my promises to myself.
Proof that joy doesn’t wait on perfect timing. It shows up when you do.
Not to be dramatic but visiting the Maldives was my Mariah in Glitter moment, haha. The part where Billie takes the stage at Madison Square Garden, alone, after everything. And still delivers. Not because everything was perfect but because she chose to show up anyway. That was me.
Originally, I had limited the experience of the Maldives to a honeymoon. Why? I honestly don’t know. It wasn’t until I was 29 that I even considered going alone.
As I started planning my dream trip, I had a real moment of clarity. A revelation, really. Life is too short to wait to start living it. I could not afford to sit around hoping everything would fall into place. What if the things I was waiting on never happened? The career. The husband. The money. The friend group. The fullness of a good life.
That possibility hit me hard. I have cried about it many nights since turning 30. Not because I was sad about the age. I was grieving a life I now realize I never actually wanted. And I had to make peace with every version of happily ever after, even the ones that look nothing like what I imagined when I was younger.
But here is the truth. Those tears were also full of joy. I had finally released myself from the pressure of chasing someone else’s idea of a good life.
Life at 30 is different because I am free. The only task I urgently need to complete is living a life for me. Full of choices, overflowing with deep connection, and fun outfits. I want my nieces fighting over who gets what from my wardrobe when I go, haha.
A dear friend and mentor of mine, in her early 40s at the time, once told me when I was just 23, “As you get older, you stop needing other people’s permission to live.” That is the beauty of aging when you do it right.
When she shared that with me, I didn’t have enough life experience to fully appreciate the depth of what she was saying. There is so much freedom in not caring! So now that I’ve said all that, here’s the fun part.
30 Things I Do Not Care About
A few things I’ve officially stopped caring about at 30 years old.
1. Asking who all is going?
Bitch I am going! That is all that matters. I stopped asking this question because it has no bearings on how, where, and when I show up.
2. Making the right choice.
I spent too much of my 20s overthinking and overanalyzing. Most of the time, it left me doing absolutely nothing. Decision paralysis, if you will. These days, I do the best I can with what I have and pray I wake up tomorrow with another chance to course correct. I make choices I can respect, even if they turn out to be “wrong.” Also, interesting people make hella mistakes. I am the queen of doing it for the plot.
3. Being Overdressed
It is simply not possible. The concept does not exist. What other people would wear is none of my business.
4. Oversharing
I love to talk, which often means I overshare. I am just not a mysterious person. I was born to yap, and I do not care what people know about me. If I told you, it is probably not a secret.
5. Excessive Manners
I am polite, not performative. I say thank you when I am thankful. I am not in the business of over-apologizing, over-explaining, or making myself smaller to seem more agreeable.
6. Love Bombing Love Bombers
It is fun. They hate it. That’s it. That’s the statement.
5. Asking for Things I Know I Did Not Earn
Audacity is a gift I was born with. I will continue to ask for things I did not earn because there is always a chance the universe might say yes. Fifty percent odds are enough for me.
6. Saying No Without Explanation
Black parents did us a disservice when they taught us that “no” wasn’t a complete sentence. All that “because I said so” energy trained us to overexplain ourselves. I am done with that. I am a grown woman. What are they going to do — whoop me?
7. Body Count
I stopped counting. It is not an indication of anything. We live in a society where men gain status for sexual experience while women get called whores. That is not just cultural. It is systemic. From religion to media to policy, there has always been a double standard that treats women's sexuality as something to control and men's as something to celebrate. I reject that. What actually matters to me is sexual hygiene. Regular condom use. Quarterly testing. Clear and ongoing consent. Everything else is noise rooted in patriarchy.
8. Missing Out
Fear of missing out is a feeling I no longer entertain. I am always where I am supposed to be. If I missed it, it was not mine.
9. Being Disliked
I do not like or respect every person I meet, so why would I expect that from others? Not everyone is going to like me, and I truly do not care. What am I supposed to do with the likes or the dislikes? Not a damn thing. I like me, and that is all that matters.
10. Male Companionship
I would rather spend the rest of my life alone than one day with a man who does not meet my needs. My standards are the measuring stick. I have seen what some of you divas consider a good man… no thanks. Great Black men exist, and until I meet one, I am more than fine being alone. I am no pilgrim. Settling is not in my future.
11. Being Liked
Funny enough, I was a confident kid. I didn’t start second-guessing myself until college when feedback suddenly felt like the truth. I cared a lot back then. Too much, maybe.
But now? I spend my energy being true to myself. That’s it. I don’t shrink, bend, or edit for approval. I’ve actually come to appreciate when people have opinions about me. It means I made them feel something. It means I made them think.
I only aim to be two things: myself and interesting. And interesting people,places,and things make others stop, question, critique, judge, engage.
There’s no prize for being the most likable woman…especially if it costs you your essence.
12. Knowing the Lyrics to Dreams & Nightsmares
I am not looking them up! I will knowingly say the wrong lyrics, occasionally I make up my own. Anything after “My son needs some milk”? Baby I am freestlying. Don’t care.
13. Being Selfish
Balance is the key. Anything taken to the extreme can become destructive. But I think the trait of being selfish gets a bad rap. To me, it's never an insult. In fact, I take it as a compliment every single time.
If I have the option to choose what’s best for me, why would I purposely choose less? Why would I sacrifice my peace, my resources, or my energy just to prove something? Choosing the short straw on purpose isn’t noble. It’s self-abandonment dressed up as virtue. That’s not strength. That’s conditioning.
Opinion: People who over-identify with being selfless are often chasing something deeper than kindness. They want to be perceived as good—as generous, agreeable, dependable, and easy to love. That performance of selflessness becomes a kind of currency. It buys approval, praise, and a false sense of belonging.
We are taught that to be liked is to be useful, and to be useful is to be good. So many internalize this script without question. They give beyond their limits, hoping someone will finally see their worth.
Your goodness does not depend on your sacrifice. You do not have to bleed to be worthy.
14. Spending $100+ on Prestige Skincare Products
There are budget skincare products under $20 that work well. I’ve tried them. Some I actually like.
But if you’ve ever had acne or felt uncomfortable in your own skin, you get it. This isn’t a literal investment, so I’m not about to hit you with some cute girl math rhetoric.
My skin loves what it loves. And I’m going to honor that.
15. Double Texting
Death to ego. Acting pressed? No, diva. I am pressed. Acting like I care too much? I do care.
Sometimes it's mutual. Other times I get left on read, and honestly, lmao. Either way, I sleep well knowing I showed up as my real self. You can't shame a real diva.
16. ******* *******
My frontal lobe wasn’t fully developed. I will not be elaborating. I’ve used too many characters on them already.
17. Friendships Ending
They hurt. Quietly, deeply, and sometimes without closure. I used to hold on out of loyalty, history, or the hope that things would return to how they were.
But with time, I’ve learned to accept that not all friendships are meant to last forever. Some served their purpose. Some taught me something. Some simply ran their course.
I do not give mental space to what’s already slipping away. Instead, I honor what was, and I pour into the loved ones who are present. The ones who call back. The ones who choose me in return.
Let it go. Move on. Growth creates distance, but it also makes room for alignment.
18. Blocking/Muting/Unfriending
Instagram, email, even my cell phone. I am judge and jury. If I decide I don’t want to see you or hear from you, then that’s final. You’re going on the list.
I don’t care how it’s perceived. I pay this phone bill, and I reserve the right to revoke access. Whether we are at odds or you're always posting unsightly outfits, lol. If I don’t want to see it, I won’t.
19. Telling My Mama “No”
In many Black families, the parent-child relationship is rooted in unquestioned compliance, respect, and deference. That was the case for me growing up. My role was to listen, not to challenge.
And my mom will always be my mom. That foundation of love and reverence hasn't changed. What has changed is the dynamic of our relationship. We are both adults now. I’m no longer a child asking for permission. I’m a grown woman with my own voice, values, and boundaries.
Saying “no” doesn’t mean I love her any less. Disagreeing doesn’t mean I’m being disrespectful. It means our relationship has matured to a place where mutual respect matters, even when we don’t see eye to eye.
Because honoring my mother doesn’t require abandoning myself. And that balance, that shift, is where our growth lives now.
20. Embarrassing Myself
You know what’s on the other side of that feeling of embarrassment? Achievement.
Putting myself out there is usually followed by a wave of embarrassment. Because people can see me trying? *screams*
But if I try long enough, it stops being “trying” and starts becoming “doing it.”
I’m learning to be comfortable with that. I even strive, every day, to do the thing that scares me and makes me cringe. Because that’s where growth lives.
21.Gossiping
Talking about other people’s business is fun. Nothing malicious or made up but if it was on Facebook, it is on my agenda to discuss with my group chat. I know the new wave Christian girls are condemning the behavior, but I do not care. I am a gossip. Word of Jesus’ miracles spread largely due to gossip.
22. Good Intentions
When someone lets me down, it doesn’t hurt any less just because their heart was in the right place. Good intentions don’t erase harm. A kind voice doesn’t undo the damage. You can mean well and still miss the mark completely.
I’m not bitter. I’m just clear. I’ve stopped handing out grace for effort alone. Meaning well without following through is not kindness. It’s avoidance dressed up in good manners. Intent without action is still a letdown.
23. My Wig Lifting
My Black queens, let me hold your hand and say this with love—all lace is visible. Stop giving your peace away trying to look perfect. It’s a wig, diva. A wig!
Live. Laugh. Let it lift. Let it breathe. hahaha
24. Correcting Other People’s Children
Call me nosey or overly involved, but I will absolutely, politely yet firmly, tell a child, “Sit your butt down right now.”
I don’t need to be a parent to care. I don’t need to have a child to be part of the village. My presence, my voice, and my correction come from love. Community doesn’t require permission. It requires participation.
25. Having a Relationship with my Biological Father
No matter how old I get, I will always be the child in this dynamic. The absence of a relationship now is a direct result of his absence then. At 30, I have no desire to carry the weight of building something he never showed up for. I’ve seen the TikToks of women who’ve done the emotional labor to reconnect with their fathers later in life. I respect that. But for me, forgiveness doesn’t mean access. He is forgiven, but he is not getting the privilege of my presence.
26. Taking Pictures in Public
I understand it might annoy people. I really do. But I love to savor the moment. Photos let me hold on to a memory long after it’s passed. And if that means standing up in a restaurant to get the right angle, then so be it. I’m capturing the moment, not asking for permission.
I promise not to post strangers. Most of the time, the photos never even make it to social media—they end up printed and tucked into my memory box, exactly where they belong.
27. Crying/ Being Emotional
I feel things deeply. Always have. And I don’t believe in holding back just to make other people more comfortable. If I need to cry, I will. If the moment calls for emotion, I’m going to meet it. I’m not interested in performing strength for the sake of appearances. Feeling is not a weakness. It means I’m present. It means I care.
28. Apologizing ! Right or Wrong
I’m not afraid to say, “I was wrong. I apologize,” and then actually shift my behavior. Whether I’m taking full responsibility or simply making space for someone else’s experience, I believe in accountability. An apology doesn’t shrink me. It grounds me. It says I care more about the relationship and the truth than I do about being right. For me, integrity lives in what I’m willing to own and what I’m willing to change.
29. Being Difficult
I’ve made peace with being called “difficult.” If standing up for myself makes me hard to handle, that’s not my burden to carry. I’m not here to be palatable. I’m here to be honest, clear, and rooted.
30. Asking for What I want and Need
I ask for what I want and need with my full chest. I’m done with hints, clues, and emotional charades. Closed mouths don’t get fed, and I am not in the business of starving. I don’t expect anyone to be a mind reader. If it matters to me, I name it—clearly, directly, and without apology.
Now that I’ve cleared out what I don’t care about, I’m finally making space for what I do.
I care about slow mornings in a plush robe.
I care about music that makes me feel something.
I care about conversations that stretch me, deepen me, hold me.
I care about the joy of being left on read because I’m also ignoring people, and it’s mutual.
I care about good lighting.
I care about laughter that makes me double over.
I care about softness. Not because life is soft, but because I am.
And most of all, I care about my joy.
So now that you’ve made it this far, I’ll leave you with a question. What would your life look like if you stopped waiting for permission? If you stopped performing? What if you let go of who you were taught to be and started choosing who you actually are? Because at the end of the day, the only person who has to love the life you build… is you.
xoxo,
The Cool Girl Karmen
P.S. To my divas who just hit 30 or are deep into decade number three — what do you no longer give a damn about? I’m nosy. Tell me. So I can add it to my list.
