Book

Living with my uncle and WUM was like attending a neverending seminar called “How to Lose Your Sanity Without Even Trying.” Without boundaries, kindness became a liability, and love morphed into resentment. I learned this the hard way when my cousin—let’s call her Blackguard—stormed into my life like a telemarketer who somehow got my personal number. Think of her as that gum you stepped on in the middle of summer—sticky, annoying, and determined to ruin your day while contributing absolutely nothing of value. She’s like that one rogue shopping cart in a parking lot, perfectly positioned to ding your car while pretending to be innocent. Or better yet, a pebble in your shoe—silent, invisible to others, but constantly there, poking at your peace, violating boundaries like it’s her personal Olympic sport. And as long as she stayed in the shadows, unnoticed by the world, she thrived. But here’s the thing about pebbles in shoes: at some point, you’ve got to take the shoe off and chuck the thing out. So I did. Block.