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Confessions of a Side Chick – Part 1


In recent months I have been asked the same question multiple times in many different ways, “How do you know so much about being a side chick?” Well, the answer is simple, I have been one. (Shocking? Surely not) I highly doubt that this confession is shocking in the least, not because I am a hoe or a home wrecker but because at some point it is the inevitable. No, I didn’t wake up one morning and say, “I think today is the day I will become some man’s other woman.” That’s not how the game plays out, it was something that just happened, and I allowed it to happen for a very long time. I used to be very protective of my past, if I could hide it I did, if I could deny it I would. Then one day I had an epiphany, the only person who can judge me is GOD. I made the conscious choice to do the things I did, and I needed to own those choices. Some were good, some were bad and some were shameful but I refused to live with the self-propelled guilt any longer. This is my confession.

*In order to protect those directly or indirectly affected by this relationship no names or exact dates will be disclosed.*

What if I told you that at one point I was the “other woman” to an NFL draft pick, would you believe me? What if I told you that I was at one point his best-kept secret, would you call me a liar? Well if you don’t believe me or feel the need to call me a liar, I will gladly erase any doubt you may have regarding the validity of my claims. I am no stranger to living life in the fast lane, as a matter fact for a long time I was addicted to it. It came as no surprise when I was approached by this up and coming athlete, his name and reputation around town had long preceded him as we shared a mutual friend who spoke highly of him in many regards. Unlike his plethora of groupies, I wasn’t at all pressed to get next to him. However, it came as no surprise when I opened my email and there he was. Due to the fact that it was the middle of the season he was away, so all of our initial correspondence was virtual, small talk mostly just shooting the breeze. (He never mentioned a girlfriend/wife/fiance/babymama and I never asked) Months of conversation eventually turned into time spent during the off-season. (I don’t think I have to go into detail on exactly what that time was spent doing, but I will say it was time WELL spent.) Last minute flights to game locations was nothing, fly out in the afternoon fly back the next morning. Numerous nights spent in his house in his team’s host city. (A year and a half in still no mention of a girlfriend/wife) Being that he was still a newbie to the game and big money he was far from stingy with it, and I took full advantage of all the perks of being “with him,” thousand dollar handbags was chump change, they knew him by name in the Louis Vuitton store.

Let’s fast forward a few months, you could have bought me for a penny when I found out that he was in fact involved and had been for years with a girl who I was well acquainted with. Did knowing the truth change anything? No, it wasn’t my responsibility to her or the relationship. (And please don’t give me that, it was my responsibility as another woman) Even after he married her our relationship continued, as a matter fact it intensified, we became more reckless and less discreet in our sexual encounters having sex in the most unconventional public places as if getting caught was no worry. If there were ever commandments for side chicks or a guidebook I wish I would’ve read it. It wasn’t until nearly three years into the situation that I realized I was in too deep. I was pregnant.

~To Be Continued~

About Brendolyn Marie

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