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My parents believed in me.

Blog writing has become a thing for me, I enjoy telling my truths and it's nice to have a tribe that likes reading about it. Thank yall for reading my blog! My goal is to inspire, :-) I think one of the sole purposes of our existence is to live life through experiences, the outcome of those experiences doesn't matter, it's what we do with the lessons learned from those experiences that count. That's where growth and evolution come from. I've had some grand experiences that have made me the divine being I am today.


I wanted to let you in a little deeper on who I am. I'm always asked, "Nikki how did you become so free?" It comes down to upbringing. I can't relate to the majority of my clientele when it comes to how I was raised. Many were raised in strict religious homes, that demonized sex and anything to do with it. Most parents were stuck in the matrix pushing their fear-based beliefs onto their children, wanting them to follow the "American Dream." Which in my opinion consists of, going to college, getting a corporate job, buying a house, starting a family, building a 401k, working for 40 years, retiring, repeat. Any form of creative expression is looked down upon for many. I was raised by what I would consider a hippie, and a musician. We didn't go to church, or talk much about religion. My mother was a flight attendant for 32 years, and a party girl. She loved to party, drink, cuss, and live life according to her standards. If someone didn't like it, she wouldn't hesitate to give them a big, FUCK YOU. My dad is a self-employed musician that has done very well for himself the last 30 years. They didn't wear masks for soceity, they were who they were unapologetically. I knew the difference because when we would go to my mom's sisters house, everyone would fake the funk. Everyone over there, went to prestigious colleges, had 3 degrees, and 6 figure jobs. They were the epitome of pretentious, and didn't hesitate to think they were somehow superior based on their financial status. Even as a young girl, I could tell the difference between them and my mom. My mom would give the shirt off her back, or her last two dollars, if that meant putting a smile on someone's face. Thier life goals were just different. That didn't make my auntie and cousins bad people, I just saw clearly through their bull shit.


I saw my dad bust his ass for his dreams. He never became a big time musician, but he put in the blood, sweat and tears, to make his name known around our hometown. Playing for country clubs, and 6 figure weddings. He taught me (without teaching me) that you don't have to follow the status quo of this "American Dream." He taught me to go for what I want, even if that vision is unclear for others. When I got kicked out of massage school, he sent me a text that said, "You hang in there, I remember when I told everyone I was going to start my own band and everyone told me to stay with Lenny (a more established musican). I believed in myself and 23 years later I'm still going. So I believe in you. And I love you." Tear jerker.


I loved seeing my mom in her elimate. She would drink her chardonnay and argue you down, on some stupid ass political topic. She would go out and dance her heart out, big crowd or little crowd, she acted as if she was the only one in the room. Her favorite song was, Got to Give it Up by Marvin Gaye. We had so many backyard parties, and get togethers growing up. I can see her now, glass of wine in her hand, moving her hips, and lips singing the lyrics to her favorite motown jams. She loved a low cut shirt, and tight fitting clothes showing every curve and inch of her body. She wore this bright pink lipstick, and would make fun of her friends for having on some granny red color, "Why you got that ugly ass old lady lipstick on?" She loved to swim, and absolutely loved music, we spent many summers at the pool and her Bose' speaker was never far. She could cook her ass off, her beef ribs to this day will be the best thing I've ever had. I remember the first time I caught my mama smoking weed, I was like girl! Now some shit, I just didn't want to see, lol. There was still a level of mother/daughter respect I wanted to uphold, but Deb just didn't give a fuck. She taught me not to give a fuck too.


My first Play Party in 2019, I went in totally blind. I had a vision and I was determined to see it through. I made $5000 in ticket sales, and my expenses were a little over $7000. My mama wrote me a check for $2000, and flew from Atlanta to be with me the night of my first sex-positive party. My dad was the band. My dad is always the band, he was the musician at my first Play Party, and at the Erotic Crhistmas Social. It's just a different type of vibe when the two people that created you believe in you. Everyone else's opinion just doesn't fucking matter, when you have the support from the two who matter the most.


So maybe your parents put you in a box, and told you what to major in, how much money you needed to make, and how to look and act so you could fit in. Maybe they told you what religion to follow, and how to dress, and carry yourself to appease the masses. Well the good news is, you are no longer under the custody of your parents. You can change, and start to heal all the parts of yourself that have been suppressed for the benefit of the "family." More importantly, you can break the cycle for your own children. If your child says fuck college, I'm going to pursue my acting career. Your support is going to mean everything to them. The only way we can fully become the highest version of ourselves is to follow our internal gps. We have to support one another in that. This Matrix (that's what I like to call it, lol) leaves us stressed, depressed, and longing for something that is real and authentic to our hearts.


My dad taught me to follow my career dreams, and my mom taught me not give a fuck what people thought of the real me. My mama passed away in 2020 from lung cancer. I never got to see my mamas feminine side, she was in her masculine bag her entire life being a single mother, and working to support her family. The only time she seemed feminine was when she danced. When she was dying, I had the great pleasure of taking care of her. Bathing her, feeding her, rubbing her head and chest with peppermint oil to ease the pain. I got to see her submit to someone, finally. And what a great pleasure it was. She would look me in my eyes and say, "Baby, I've lived a GREAT life." And I knew she did. Time waits for no one, and the truth is we are all going to die. So while you're here, why not do the things that truly bring your soul joy? That's what I've done, and I have my parents to thank for my confidence, and not giving a fuck attitude. My mama dying was my cheat code to the rest of my life, now shes on the other side guiding me and believing in me, and everytime I conquer the next test I look up and smile, because I know I've made her proud.


Long story short, I'm free because my parents believed in me. Which made me believe in myself. Check out these pics of my parents. ;-)






















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