As I prepare for a special evening of food, laughter, and heartfelt memories, I find myself reflecting on the women who walked with me through some of the most defining moments of my life.
My sisters. My very first and still-current best friends. These aren’t just guests to a dinner—I’m inviting the heartbeat of my personal history.
Each woman I’ve invited played a vital role in my becoming. They didn’t just witness chapters of my life—they helped me write them. This dinner is a tribute to that sisterhood, to those unspoken bonds and years of grace that still linger like music in the background. I’m envisioning a table full of warm candlelight, handwritten notes at each place setting, and a moment where each sister gets to share a memory—funny, meaningful, or tender—that reminds us of why we’re all sitting there together.
I want the energy of the night to be cozy, celebratory, and deeply felt. The kind of evening where you leave not just full from the meal, but full from the love.
I’m entering planning mode! 🙌🏾 In two years, I’ll be celebrating 60 wonderful years of life, and I want to start building the vision now. Theme ideas? Venue ideas Downtown Detroit or Surrounding Suburbs? Catering ideas? Party IDEAS? I have no experience at all in this area. Please help!!!!
Post ideas even if you don’t live in Detroit. I’ve never had a party because of shyness; I have a big personality and is Blessed to have wonderful family and great long-lasting friendships. I need help!
Let me be honest. Stepping into 58 ain’t just a birthday—it’s a reckoning. A moment where every scar has a story. Every laugh line has a testimony. Every tear I didn’t let the world see… has turned into wisdom that wakes folks up.
This ain’t about aging gracefully. It’s about aging truthfully. So here’s my open-hearted answer for the ones who’ve asked: “What gets better with age?”
My Voice Got Braver I used to second-guess my truth. Now I speak from places only pain, God, and grace could reach. When I blog, when I post, I’m not performing—I’m pouring. And I know when a story lands, it’s because somebody needed it like air. That knowing? That’s grown-woman power.
Too many of us have been conditioned to flinch at the word No. It echoes like failure, feels like rejection, and lodges deep in the heart as if we weren’t good enough, worthy enough, or ready enough. But the truth is—No doesn’t have to be the end of our dreams.
Sometimes that “No” is divine redirection. It’s God whispering, “That’s not what I have for you.” And if we’re honest, some of the things we begged for in the past—jobs, relationships, opportunities—would’ve pulled us away from our purpose had we received them. Thank God for the doors that didn’t open.
But here’s where it gets real: hearing No too often can make us stop trying. We stop asking. We stop dreaming. And eventually, we settle. Not because our dreams weren’t valid, but because we let fear of rejection speak louder than the fire God placed in our hearts.
Saying “keep going” after a No doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t sting. It means trusting that even disappointment can be holy. It means reminding ourselves: our worth isn’t tied to someone else’s approval. And every No we face is a setup for the right Yes.
So dream anyway. Ask anyway. Show up anyway. When No shows up at your door, don’t pack up and walk away. Stand firm. Trust God. And know that sometimes, the No isn’t punishment—it’s protection. It’s purpose. It’s a better Yes in the making.
I’ve loved your work for decades. When your plays came to town, I was always right there in the front row—laughing, crying, praising God, and feeling every word like it was written for my life. You reminded us that healing, forgiveness, and faith could walk hand in hand with good storytelling. That’s the Tyler I connected with—the one who made space for Jesus, redemption, and accountability in every production.
So watching you change… it hasn’t been easy.
I know you’ve shared some of the pain and trauma you carry. I’ve read how your mother’s passing affected you, how you’ve turned to edibles and coping mechanisms to manage that grief. I understand that healing isn’t linear. But as someone who’s watched you grow older in the public eye, I can’t help but feel like your art isn’t growing with you.
Your recent sitcoms—filled with vulgarity, excessive sexual content, and even male-on-male scenes that don’t seem rooted in any deeper message—feel disconnected from the man I once saw as a vessel for truth and restoration. It’s not about judging the characters or the choices—they exist in real life too—it’s about the intention behind the scenes. Once, your work held up a mirror to the soul. Now, it feels more like a show for shock.
Some will say you’ve evolved. But from where I sit, it doesn’t look like growth. It looks like unresolved pain.
You once led with purpose. Now, it feels like you’re walking with the crowd. I never expected perfection from you—but I did expect alignment with the message you built your legacy on. The Tyler who taught us how to forgive our fathers, how to get out of bad relationships, how to stand in the name of God—that Tyler seems distant.
And maybe… maybe this letter isn’t about disappointment. Maybe it’s about mourning. Mourning the loss of an artist who once made so many of us feel seen and understood in ways Hollywood never could.
I still care. I still respect your work ethic. But as a supporter who believed in the why behind your storytelling, I hope you come back to center.
Love always, A front-row sister who still believes in your light.
Subscribe to my YouTube channel coming back in September.
There’s something unsettling about watching people in power treat others like they don’t matter—especially when it comes to women. Recently, I’ve been reflecting on Sean “Diddy” Combs and everything that’s come to light. As someone who believes deeply in respect, growth, and accountability, I can’t stay silent.
I don’t agree with how he treated Cassie—and that’s just scratching the surface. The disrespect he shows toward people, period, is alarming. If a man ever treated his daughters the way he’s treated other women, I believe he’d be outraged. So why do we excuse it when he’s the one inflicting that pain?
The legal system is now involved, and from what I’ve read, Diddy’s been convicted of serious charges. Even so, it’s likely he won’t serve as much time as he could have. Some might call that grace. Some might call it a second chance.
But here’s the thing: what does a second chance even mean if you don’t think you did anything wrong? If there’s no remorse, no change of heart—what are we really giving a second chance to? I fear that if he walks free with the same mindset, he’ll become more cautious, more strategic, more dangerous. He’ll be smarter about how he gets away with it, not better as a person.
As a woman of faith, I believe God allows space for transformation. But it requires honesty. Accountability. Humility. Without those, second chances can just become opportunities to repeat history—only more carefully hidden.
I’m sharing this not to attack, but to speak truth. To stand with women like Cassie. To say that power and fame shouldn’t shield anyone from the consequences of their choices. And to remind us all that real change comes from within.
Until we value character more than celebrity, we’ll keep facing the same painful lessons.
I’ve been away for a while, and it’s time I share something deeply personal with you. I recently experienced a stroke—but by the grace of God, I came out of it physically and mentally just as I went in. That in itself is a testimony I can’t keep to myself. My Love for God- Family and friends- Learning Life Lessons- Sisterhood- Inspiration- Encouraging- Story Time- City Driving- My Love for Teenagers Advice- Showing how I Make Candles, will also be a part of videos on my channel.
This September, I’ll be sharing my full story on my YouTube channel Creasygurl. It’ll be raw, real, and straight from the heart. In the meantime, I’ll be easing back into blogging—writing my way through this journey and reconnecting with all of you who have supported me for so long.
If you haven’t already, I’d love for you to subscribe to my channel, Creasygurl, and be a part of this next chapter with me. I’ve got so much to say, and I truly believe someone out there needs to hear it.
Inside the mind of cree 