Messy, But Real
Dear Stranger,
You don’t know me, but if we were sitting across from each other in a quiet tea café, this is what I’d tell you first: I knew the sting of conditional love before I even understood the word. My family had already written the script for what their firstborn should care about, and every time I strayed from it, I became a disappointment.
Then my younger brother died — sudden, cruel, and too soon. I carried the blame like it belonged to me. From there, I tried to hold together a childhood already unraveling, missing pieces I once longed for… and sometimes still do.
What I always knew, but couldn’t put into words until much later, is that my parents and I were designed to be at odds — they were clad in artifice, and I longed to strip naked. By the time I was a teenager, I was gone. I traded financial security in Indianapolis for a cramped apartment in New York. Poor, yes. But finally free to be me.
I can’t deny that I live a bold and reckless life. My mother warned me once, “You can get carried away by your passionate feelings and do things that come back to hurt you.” She wasn’t wrong.
My lifestyle isn’t for everyone. You might disagree with who I am, and I’m okay with that. Still, I intend to stay the course — “Live as you do,” my mother said once, a tidy understatement meant to capture my life in a way that expressed her disappointment.
But if you get to know me better, you’ll see that even a dangerous, imperfect life can carve out space for change. With the right people beside me, I eventually find my purpose. And for me, that was enough reason to keep going.
Here’s what I keep learning: life’s messy middle isn’t about perfection. It isn’t about earning approval or twisting yourself to please everyone else. It’s about the courage to live the story that feels most genuine, most sincere, most you.
And that’s why I should tell you this now: I’m not real. My story is stitched from the fabric of real lives and real history, so tightly woven you might try to search my name. You won’t find me. Yet the questions I wrestle with — belonging, freedom, the weight of family expectations — are as real as it gets.
So tell me, which of those questions whispers the loudest in your own life? I can’t answer it for you, but I can leave you with this — my mother’s words…“Live as you do.”
She meant it as resignation. I offer it to you instead as permission — to live as fully and authentically as you can.
Earl “Trey” Singleton III
This letter was inspired by the book, My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson. Direct quotes included in the letter are drawn from the text:
“Designed to be at odds…long to strip naked” (p. 204)
“You can get carried away by your passions…and end up hurt” (p. 205)
“Live as you do” (p. 263)
Short Content Note: Not every story brews the same. This one is a strong brew — steeped with sexually explicit content and intimate detail. If that’s not your flavor, sip with care.
The Cup We’d Share
Think of this as the moment we sit down with Trey over a steaming cup of tea. The Authenticitea Barista (a character from my upcoming book, A Cup of Authenticitea) would pour something to match his spirit — a blend to linger with, a mood to steep in, and a question to carry forward.
Reckless but Purposeful
Tea Blend: Pu-erh + Cinnamon Bark
Mood Pairing: For moments when bold choices come with risk, but also with meaning.
Flavor Note: Earthy and spiced, lingering on the tongue — imperfect, yet full of purpose.
Reflection: What risks are worth taking if it means living more authentically?
~ ☕ ~
That’s the sip I’ll leave with you today. Thanks for reading — until the next page.
