What the HECC! I do not understand why I am i facebook jail right now.
I can message everyone and receive messages, however I cannot take a link post and share it via messenger. There is no rhyme or reason to why I am on lockdown. The day started fine until I received a warning that a post from April had been removed. Okay. Slap on the wrist. All my accounts were running just fine… I posted live feeds, videos, photos, memes, until all of a sudden, I was in lockdown.
I did post a complaint to an admin in a group on facebook how I wanted all my accounts to be in it so that it would make it easier to find. People in the groups started wailing on me for maintaining too many profiles. Wah Boo hoo. Seriously? But if they reported my profiles, they would not have had access to put my personal account in Jail. If FB had banned me for my IP address, then my family wouldnt be able to log into their accounts on my phone. If moderators on my fan page got slapped for the stupid joke, then they would be in jail too. I conclude it might be a facebook admin trying to punish me or a recent hater reporting my accounts. I just don’t understand why my accounts are in jail without a reason given.
And that’s why I am posting here. Can’t stop the signal, Mal… oop. I mean Jae. I need to get back to blogging on here because facebook can’t jail this website.
Anyway. I am still getting hated on for craving attention. Years ago, I received attention from guys and gals complimenting me for my looks. I learned quickly off of watching public figures on facebook. Some of the public figures came across as snobby. I made a rule that has protected me for years. Don’t pm compliments to me. If you put it on my wall, it keeps you honest and me. Don’t tell me you are “enjoying” my photos, Don’t expect to talk to me while you do and Buy my merchandise. My hubby likes these rules because it keeps me and my fans honest. There’s no secrets between me and hubby. Some haters say, “If you were honorable, then you wouldn’t allow it on your wall.” Do I look like a communist dictator to you?
I started off in the public life being belittled how ugly I was and how fat I appeared. I wore my belly dancing jedi with pride after women approached me, explaining their newfound courage from my strength. If a lady with a scarred up belly could show off her mama scars and her surgery butcher scars, they could lift their frowns upside down.
I admit I wanted to be a symbol of strength, a warrior, a survivor and a fighter. I wanted to show the world that we don’t have to comply with the photo-shopped fake modeling industry. I wanted to be a rebel. However, acting as a rebel has its consequences. I get haters. Haters insisting I crave the attention.
Sure. I guess I do in some ways. I like compliments a whole lot more than I enjoy the haters. The compliments outweigh the haters. I have cracked some flirtatious jokes on my wall. It’s called entertainment. I can be admired for being beautiful without being a slut, prostitute, whore, etc. Do not not see actors pretending to be a couple in a movie when they are deeply dedicated to a spouse. You don’t go hating on them! Do you?
Once I was tucked in a box where even my (ex)husband didn’t brag that he knew me. His work didn’t even know he was married. When I left him, the lady asked if I was his girlfriend when I had been his legal wife. I hadn’t seen him in days. When he shows up, of course I was a crying mess. Do you know what he said? He told his friends that I was his psychotic roommate. Do you expect me to stop my tears after that or cry harder? I had some family members that didn’t talk about me to where I was an invisible ghost to people they knew. They knew about my siblings but not me. I want friends who are proud to say they are associated with me. I want fans and business associates to brag about me. I want to be known because I have been locked up in prisons of berated bullied ugliness. Hiding me from knowing adventure, love, kindness, affection.
Take a middle child, one with PTSD, one whose dreams of finishing up in the modeling industry were crashed because I wasn’t allowed to be me. My agent insisted I starve my body building muscles in order to return to modeling in order to acquire better paid modeling jobs. I just want to be admired for being me. I want people to like me because I am not afraid to be myself. I want people to appreciate me because I am not afraid of being myself.
Once I was afraid to be myself and now I am not.
I want to be admired for my intelligence, wit, personality, love for knowledge, willingness to learn, adventure, etc. I am tired of being fake. I am exhausted from trying to please everyone. I just want to love me for myself whether you do or not.
What do you think?