Sins of the Skin

Sometimes you often wonder if the true test of a woman’s virility lies in the salacious acts she commits... or if she has to find out the hard way that it’s all in her mind...

Take Mia.

A 30-something, very demure, strikingly intelligent and very educated, Mullato Sistah that is still very single and childless.

Mia prides herself in getting her $7 cup of joe before 7am and then again after 3pm. She takes the 1 train home from her six-figure Nonprofit work, to her New York City high rise and has casual conversations with her Latin(x) neighbors at the local laundromat. Nothing that would really make her stand out.

However...she has, to date, well over 100 sexual partners; some one-night stands after too many drinks at the bar and some, live-in, long term relationships, but none of them lasting long enough to matter in her life.

Mia is truly the text boom definition of a “little girl lost” after a horrid childhood with her mentally abusive maternal-figure of a “Mother” and her emotionally distant paternal-figure of a “Dad”. However the compensatory package was that she was an only-child of great privilege; she played Jai Lai in school, and the Oboe in the orchestral band. The many Jack and Jill Cotillion events lined her weekends and her Debutant Balls rounded her spring and summer activities.

She was always adventurous and had a stoic Type-A personality but, lost her virginity at 17 simply because she was bored and desired something to do that day. She actually still looks at men as a “means to an end” to “get through”, especially after a really rough day, yet still desires to find “Mr. Right” amongst the 8.5 million people in New York!

During yet another, very non-descript day, she is speaking to a girlfriend about her (newest) boy-toy that she is dying to “taste”, as she puts it, when the call was interrupted by a text from her Dad:

“...I just got a call from the Newton County (Georgia) Medical Examiner’s Office... your Mim was found in the house, unresponsive. She didn’t make it, Kiddo...”

The typo of “Mom” in the text message was all that she could stare at as she realized that after all that time of wanting to reconcile with her Mother, this text message confirmed that she would never get the chance...

...the funeral was that weekend.

The time off from work was welcomed but the trip to the most rural part of Georgia was a “culture shock” just waiting to happen. The funeral was a succinctly orchestrated campaign of The Who’s-Who of the Religious elite and the guests fashionably lined up to pay their last respects before the repass at her Mom’s house.

Mia sat alone most of the day, just needing time to figure out what all this meant.

She had small talk with her Dad, who divorced her Mom when Mia was in college, but kept to herself all the feelings of hurt, loss, grief and resentment that was brewing inside of her. After the guests left, Mia stayed at her Moms house to “be close to her” in some way.

Mia returned back to New York and to her life; weeks later, her Dad called saying that it was time to go through the house and clean out what measure they could before rhe house was sold. Unassembled boxes were unloaded from the Uhaul truck and Mia began in her Mother’s bedroom.

Three boxes in, Mia located a little black notebook in a dresser drawer. The leather-bound, hard back book had Bible tracks and favorite hymns that lined the first twenty or so pages. Deeper into the soliloquy was pages and pages of men’s names; some were crossed off in black marker and some had little green check marks next to them. Matching the names to her mothers (old-fashioned, handwritten) phone book she began to write down the numbers and addresses to see what these men had in common.

Later that month, the house sold a bit north of 10K over the asking.

In a final attempt to “apologize “ for not being there for Mia, her Dad split the proceeds between the last of the bills her Mother had and a retirement fund that Mia needed to begin.

Sadly, her Dad passed away a few months later, never to be able to apologize to Mia personally himself for the pain he caused her.

Mia, now left to her own vices, began to call the men, one by one, to inquire about this “list”. Each man, after being told that Mia’s Mom had passed, asked for Mia’s address and permission to write.

Days and weeks later, mysterious letters, envelopes and sympathy cards came to Mia’s address with reoccurring messages like, “this should be the last of it” or “We’re done now”. One note even said, “I can now Rest In Peace”.

After speaking to one of the Men, personally, Mia noticed a evolving trend; the men seem to be closing some sort of doors with the money.

Was this business or corporate contracts?!? Was this related to the building fund at church?!? What?!

The envelopes ranged from a few hundred dollars to a couple thousand dollars; still one envelope came with a certified bank check for ten thousand dollars with a note in the memo, “Case Closed”.

After some more digging and about a year’s worth of research within the tight-lipped church community, Mia uncovered that this money was not coming from just random men or for business dealings, this money was “hush money” coming from pillars in the Christian community that were secretly having sex with Mia’s Mother.

She found that The Men’s names that were crossed off were dead (who took that secret to the grave) and the ones with green check-marks were those that divorced their wife or the wife died thus the blackmail money ended.

All totaled, Mia received $20,000 from five Decon’s, three Pastors, two Bishops and an Evangelist that has about 10 churches, world-wide.

Shocked and almost embarrassed, Mia’s abusive Mother was nothing more than a high-priced Bible-thumping, Call-girl with a passive stream of income...coming from the front row of the church. I guess when her Dad found out and divorced her Mother, the money came in handy in the rebound.

Mia’s parting thought in all this...maybe sexual dysfunction is not all physical; it seems like it can be mental...and very hereditary.

But with this hush money, one can only hope that it can now be used to pay for the healing she desperately needs to break this generational curse!

We’re rooting for all the Mia’s with more money than love, to find a way to close the book on their pain! ❤️