I saw Kendrick and SZA at MetLife Stadium, the day after I saw my mom’s casket get lowered into the ground.

I was on the fence about attending; I thought the optics would be bad. “That boy momma just died, and he went to a rap concert?” Then I remembered I’m the one who doesn’t have a living mother anymore. I dictate what I do, not anyone else. I had a great time and I’m glad I went. But after the show, I remembered why I felt so drawn to show up.

On July 29, 2023, I went to MetLife to see Beyonce for the Rennaisance World Tour. At this point, I’ve never seen Beyonce live, and I was excited to go, but my mind was elsewhere. My mom’s colon cancer diagnosis was only weeks old. I felt really stupid at that show. My mom was very ill at the start of an uncertain journey, and here I was, in the middle of New Jersey, instead of at her side. She wanted me to go, and enjoy myself, but the truth is, every day she was sick was miserable for me. The show was great and it was an incredible experience, but every 15 minutes, I’d mentally check out and think about my mother.

I spent most of my time with my mom, from her diagnosis in July 2023 to her passing at the end of April of this year. I still feel like I failed her. I wish I had more time. I wish I ate with her more. I wish I became a better cook faster. I feel guilty when I cook now because I could never get her food exactly how she wanted it, and I’m really good now. I felt bad for not getting her flowers when she was sick; I bought a bouquet and put it in her mostly untouched room on her birthday. I sat in there for 45 minutes, just rambling and crying, hoping she could hear me and that she wasn’t disappointed in me. I feel like I’m letting my mom down all the time, because I’m not productive, because I don’t want to really do anything. The type of shame that shit makes me feel is unbelievable, even though I know it’s not real, and that my mother would never be mad at me for grieving.

I often mention that my mom wanted me to have fun and enjoy myself. I did that after she passed because I know that’s what she wanted, and it’s what I needed. I went to Virginia Beach twice, once to see my friends and the Clipse concert, then again for ODU Homecoming. In hindsight, the 757 is the only place where I didn’t feel like my brain was going to explode. Back in NYC, I always feel emotionally overtaxed. I’ve been exhausted with NYC for over a decade, but my mom’s passing might’ve sealed the deal for me. I don’t think I can be here anymore. There are some things I need to do before I go, but I think that part of my life will be over sooner than later.

My year was basically me trying to fit back into the world without my mom, then realizing I don’t have to adjust shit. I don’t have to cover up the bad days to make everyone feel better. I don’t have to attend social events I dont wanna go to. I don’t have to talk to women I don’t want. I don’t have to do any of this shit. It does not matter; I only have to stay true to myself. My desire to be understood doesn’t really exist anymore, I don’t care who gets it. When my mom died, I lost my sense of self, I had no idea who I was without my mother, because I have 0 experience on that job.

This time last year, I was in the gym lifting the heaviest shit I could find, because I was worried I wouldn’t be strong enough to carry my mom’s casket. I didn’t share this feeling with anyone, because it would require me admitting I secretly felt she was going to die. My mom’s illness infiltrated everything I once enjoyed. Writing, gaming, hanging out with my friends, it didn’t matter, my mom’s health loomed in the shadows. Things got much easier after her passing, but I began to feel like the “HIS MOMMA DEAD YALL” guy, and I hated that. I was never ashamed to talk about my mom’s passing, but it became a thing of “well, when do I mention it” to new people, friends and women I dated alike. You don’t forget that confused and mildly disinterested look in a woman’s eyes the first time you share that you are traumatized by seeing your mother die. It does something to you that I don’t wish on anyone. And I deeply hate some of y’all; I still don’t want you to feel like I felt.

The time after my mother’s passing wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. But it hit me hard as the year came to a close. My mother was missed dearly on Christmas, as she really loved it; I was thankful for every single Christmas because she cared so much. Now that she’s gone, it felt like another day, which broke my heart yet again. My mom was really serious about NYE too, and not being able to call her while I’m at a party, or toast her and hear her yell “HAPPY NEW YEAR” will never feel right. My mom’s death made me feel cheated, in every way. I dedicated the rest of 2025 to trying to let go, of relationships that don’t make sense, of being unkind to myself, of decentering myself. As the hours tick down to 2026, I’m realizing I just beat the buzzer.