I’m gonna keep it all the way 100 with you girlie. Meek Mill has given you a gift.
No, not that gift. Something of actual value.
After subliminally ball measuring with your ex on twitter yesterday, Meek – upset over being removed from Chris’ song – tweeted “Dese chicks belong 2 da game…not u. Never get confused and think that’s all u.”
Meek Mill is as incorrect about ‘da game’ as he is about ‘dese’ being a real word.
You no more belong to ‘da game’ than he does. What he really meant was: I don’t want to take any responsibility for you, nor do I have to.
I was catching up on the new HBO show Girls the other night when the lead character Hannah ‘confronted’ Adam, the guy she’s been trying to fuck into a relationship. “It makes me feel stupid and pathetic to get a picture of your dick, that I know was meant for someone else.” She says this from the hallway, obviously full of angst and nervousness. But it’s what comes next that’s the most important part of her little speech “And you don’t even bother to explain because I made you think that you don’t have to explain.”
Rihanna, watching this current course you’re on, isn’t fun anymore. You are quickly approaching that critical point in everyone’s life where they can either choose to pull out of the damaging direction in which they are headed or press the gas and hope for the best. Real talk, there’s more than just your career at stake here.
People, even megastars, really do die. Recklessness can actually kill you. Remember Amy Winehouse? Heath Ledger? DJ AM? And here’s the cold, hard truth Rih: should you die – God forbid – your ‘Navy’ will weep, they will light candles in the street, put your face on t-shirts then follow your casket to its final resting place. And then they will move on.
That is the game to which you belong.
Since the 2009 Grammy incident, I’ve watched everyone come at you with their opinions on who you should be, what you should do, who you should love – citing everything from the bible to What’s Love Got To Do With It. Billboard even penned an open letter, reminding you of your responsibility to your young fans to set an example. And while all of that might be true, I’m not talking about any of it.
Do not stop this behavior for us. Do not stop for your fans. Do not stop for your career. Stop because you are playing yourself.
I know, I know, you’re all out of fucks to give. Only, you’re not though. You do care. And it’s ok to care. In many ways, the scrutiny you face regularly is unfair. But it is what it is. And the ridicule, the rumors, the constant judgment is all an unfortunate tax on the amazing life you’ve been given.
You tweeted in frustration this morning, that you wanted everyone to focus on the music. That’s hard to do Rih, when the antics come more often than new tracks.
I don’t know what’s happening in your sex life. Truthfully, it’s none of my business. But let me hip you to a little something I’ve learned a long the way: Men who do not care will always gladly take your body with absolutely no regards for your heart.
Perhaps you don’t want to only fuck guys that are madly in love with you, but maybe just start with guys who won’t turn around and hang your business in the streets as a notch in their belt.
Nobody with any sense really believed you when you said ‘eff love’. Of course you want love. But we all understood you were angry, hurt and embarrassed. I couldn’t even begin to imagine – and hope I never have to – what it feels like to have my darkest moment paraded across every internet and television outlet as entertainment for the world to see. Regardless of what happened in that Lambo that night, you obviously got the worst end of it. And it was wrong. How we the media handled it, was wrong. And for that, let me apologize to you.
But how you rebuild, how you repair that hurt, says everything about you and nothing about us.
I have no doubt that Chris loves you. Any mature adult can see through all the childish posturing. If he really didn’t care, there’d be no need to diss you in songs, or lash out at his peers, guys do the oddest things when their feelings are hurt. So yes, he loves you. He’s also not mature enough, nor has enough of a grasp on himself to be the man he’d need to be to turn that love into a healthy relationship. And there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s where he should be on his journey
Do not confuse attention with love.
Meek Mill, Drake and even Chris are making sport of who fucked you because they are boys and that’s what boys do, but most importantly, because you have made them feel like it’s ok to do so. The price of value on your body is determined wholly and exclusively, by you.
You don’t belong to Chris. Drake either. Damn sure not Meek. And you don’t even belong to us, your fans. You belong to you.
There’s one other megastar who continued to play chicken with life and lost – whom you ironically were rumored to play.
Whitney Houston technically died from drowning as a result of drug use, but what really killed her was a void, an emptiness inside, whose walls echoed ‘you’re not good enough’ until finally – despite the adoration of the world over – she believed it.
Kevin Costner said it best, during her eulogy, and I will leave it here with you now.
Guard your bodies. Guard the precious miracle of your own life. And then sing your heart out…
Be well Rih, because you deserve it.
With (Tough) Love,
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