THE VILLAIN: A MANIFESTO ON GENERATIONAL HEALING, TRUTH, AND LEGACY
EDITOR’S NOTE
For the past several months, The Brownstone Magazine has been through a profound reckoning. What was meant to be a safe space for Black women became a vessel for people who didn’t understand the weight of the vision. People who claimed to believe in community while operating from hidden agendas. People who attacked the very foundation we were building and then tried to construct their own thing on the rubble of it’s breaking.
I stayed silent through it. I held space for the process. I watched with the clarity that comes from being an observer of human nature.
But silence, while sometimes strategic, can feel like complicity if you don’t eventually speak your truth.
This manifesto is my statement as I close that chapter completely and step fully into what The Brownstone Magazine was always meant to be. It’s for anyone who’s been mishandled by people claiming to want community. It’s for anyone who’s been called a villain for refusing to shrink. And it’s for those building something real—because real requires courage, authenticity, and the willingness to stand alone if necessary.
Welcome to the reimagined Brownstone Magazine, built with intention and love.
The Foundation
At some point in my healing journey, I stopped living for just me and started to live for my future daughter. I haven’t met her, but everything in me is getting ready for the challenge of raising a future “Wild Woman”. I wondered how would I relate life experiences to her? How would I live a life that I was proud enough to guide her from?
I can't say when this day happened, but I know it was the day that I made the decision to live fully in integrity, out loud. And I haven’t looked back since.
Breaking the Generational Curse
When you free yourself, you give everyone around you permission to do the same. And you will show them that following your soul isn't selfish—it's the most loving thing you can do.
— Karin Hadadan, When Nothing Makes Sense
My daughter won't know what it's like to grow up inside of an anxious, dysregulated mother, like her mother before her, and my mother before her, because it all ended with me.
We know that we carry the physical blueprint of thousands of generations of ancestors in our DNA, but through epigenetics, our bodies actively retain chemical "memories" and gene-expression tweaks from about three to four preceding generations.
That means I carried the trauma, anxiety, and deep-seated fear of the three generations that came before me at the onset of my birth.
My great-grandmother bore a daughter from assault, creating a generational distrust of men. That daughter, my grandmother, married an abuser, creating a generational curse of choosing and staying with lesser men. She and my grandfather went on to have five children, born in chaos, alcoholism, abuse and near-death experiences. My mother almost perished at the hands of her father after a night of drunk driving that ended in a crash, and to this day at nearly 66, her eyesight carries the burden of that crash.
It's not my place to tell the story of how my mother recreated her own generational curse, but it was my place to break it.
The women of my bloodline carry the curse of allowing lesser men suck the life, whimsy and joy out of them. THAT ended with me.
Science says that women are born with all the eggs that they ever will have, which means the DNA fibers of my own future queen in training is being shaped by the condition of my body and the emotions that run through it, now.
A generational curse breaker intentionally shifts their family's trajectory by healing unresolved trauma. By doing so, they literally alter their physiological state—achieving a regulated nervous system—which influences how they parent, communicate, and biologically interact with their children.
The Contradiction
The most confusing part about being the villain in a lot of people's stories is remembering the times they called you the most genuine soul that they ever met.
How they thanked you for never judging them, and the way in which you showed up for them. And how even if you had to assert a strong boundary with them, they thanked you for doing it with grace and love.
I've been the villain my entire life, and I've fought against the moniker, knowing how many times I've gone up against true villains who don't have the courage to stand on what they've done. I've stared in the eyes of psychopaths, narcissists, sociopaths, perverts & rapists—you name it – I didn’t back down from the truth then, and I have no plans to now.
Living in Truth
You learn to live fearlessly when you live in truth, because there's nothing that anyone can hold against you. Authenticity becomes the equalizer in any situation, giving you the courage to rise up anytime you’ve been knocked down, and rebuild from the fire of burning it all down.
I wear my mistakes on my chest, proud of each of my decisions (save for a few from my 20s…) because they've shaped me into who I am today.
I've made friends with my shame, so anyone who has ever tried to humble me often finds their attempts falling flat. And secretly making their intentions known to me in the process.
I've made friends with my anger, so anyone who tries to shape it into anything other than a valid response to mistreatment meets the chill of my absence.
I allow myself to exist fully, with the same level of radical acceptance that I offer externally.
I don't suffer fools. I don't cower to bullies. And I can't be broken.
Oh baby, I am the villain.
How I Show Up
People don't really know how to handle me. I have a whimsical bubbly nature, and I romanticize and celebrate life. I don't scream, nor will I allow you to scream at me. I will always come to the table in an attempt to respectfully reach common ground. I find no need to manipulate, but I will outwit a manipulator like it’s my job. I won’t curse you out, but I’ll read you for filth if you ignore the grace I’ve extended to you and decide to try my intelligence anyway.
I won't speak negatively about you behind your back, rather choosing to say whatever I need to say to you to your face, and leaving it there. I won't denigrate you in a group of people, because I’m confident enough to know that dimming your light won’t make mine shine any brighter. I won't intentionally treat you with anything less than respect, and will hold myself accountable in the instances that I do fall short.
"Hey, I was reflecting on this situation, and I didn't like how I showed up for you," is a usual repair message that people in my community can expect from me.
The Gift of Absence
The best part of being "the villain" is knowing how people truly feel about you in your absence. You see, my absence will always have an effect.
When you're genuinely a good person, a solid friend, a great woman—people feel that. The people that I've been forced to walk away from and love from a distance remember the support I gave, the love I showed, and the loyalty we built a foundation on.
They remember how I stayed genuine even when things weren't perfect, or downright rocky. How I always met them with love, consideration and intention.
I've don’t often feel the need to explain my side of the story, because the people who have wronged me know exactly who I was to them. They know that I was dependable and authentic. That I was a present force of love, even when I needed to hold them accountable.
They're the same people who swear that I was the safest friend and confidant that they've ever had.
The explanation that is not often given when I walk away from a connection is this: I have handled you with love, care and connection, and have not received that in return. As such, I no longer feel the need to stay in connection with you. The love and care doesn’t disappear in my absence, my absence is that care. I won’t hurt you, and I won’t allow you to hurt me.
Making Peace
I've made peace with being the villain, because for some, to admit to my value means that you must confront just how badly you mishandled me. That takes courage, and bullies aren’t known for their courage.
I recognize that anyone who would rather scapegoat another human being rather than stand in the mirror and face themselves isn’t interested in living a life based in integrity. Sometimes you have to leave people where they are, and leave them with the gift of your silence.
My ego is healed enough to handle the lies that are often thrown at it in place of courage. I don’t expect people to be accountable and self-aware, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t be. I’ve found so much peace in silence, because I know that a regulated nervous system isn’t always “love and light”. Sometimes it means setting boundaries and have people throw rocks and boulders at your on your way out. I’ll still take truth, even when it's uncomfortable, or if I have to stand in it alone.
That takes growth, self-reflection and self-honesty. And it's the foundation of community.
The Work of Community
People often talk about how badly they want to be in community, until it comes time to do the true work it takes to hold it.
In my life, I’ve watched people stay in connection with people they speak horribly about. I've watched groups form based on the dislike against one person. If this is normal, I’ll happily be weird.
I am often labelled as "dumb" or "naïve" due to my bubbly nature, and I let that be my superpower. I rarely let people know that I can see their shadows, or that being gifted with the spirit of discernment means that I can usually clock their spirits before they even step foot in the room.
I rarely tell someone that the way they speak about someone when they’re not in the room tells me everything I need to know about them, down to the nature of their heart, their level of insecurity, their own fears etcetera etcetera I could go on for days.
I'm an observer. It's how I managed to keep myself safe being in rooms that were run on chaos and disingenuity.
When people who live with hidden agendas start revealing who they really are, I let them. Observing quietly and mentally planning my exit.
I don't need to speak badly about you afterwards, because I know that bad character can't be hidden for long. You are your own worst undoing, all I’m doing is getting away from the incoming debris.
Emotional Depth Is Not a Choice
Contrary to the popular belief that exists in our country right now, emotional depth can't be turned off and on like a light switch. It's like melanin—it's either there or it's not.
You're either a genuine person who doesn't change no matter the rooms you exist in, or you'll contort your values and morals to fit within whatever box the masses are laying out for you.
As the villain, I’m never going to play ball. I’ll never shrink to make a small person feel big.
The Pattern
I will always stand up to bullies, because they're the actual weakest link. They don't grow, and their pattern has always been the same.
Find the person who makes you feel insignificant. Group up. Try to take them down.
It worked in elementary school because we couldn't see the pattern playing out. But bullies never change their gameplan, and some of us have been studying the play for years.
In my 30s, I see the play like a tiny group of little leaguers going after MLB champs, or whatever the sports equivalent is.
It's played out. It's obvious. And it reeks of a lack of creativity and innovation.
The Truth
I built a business in collaboration with people who didn’t share the same vision as me. I spent a lot of time teaching a class in emotional maturity that not everybody signed up for. I was asking for a level of accountability that not everyone possessed.
I'm calling it out because it explains why I decided to walk away.
And more importantly, it explains why I'm rebuilding better.
What I'll Teach Her
My daughter's most precious commodity will be her regulated nervous system—a gift from me after decades of healing the nervous system that she will call her home for nine-plus months.
I will tell her: Be the villain. Do it alone if the alternative means allowing people to take advantage of your kindness. Walk away with integrity, knowing you showed up in love.
I'll remind her that not everybody is ready for the kind of love that her mother lives by, and it's not something that can be forced onto another human being. The true nature of love asks that you show up in the best interest of both parties, and sometimes that means you have to show up alone until your tribe finds you.
I'll teach her how to navigate walking away from anything that doesn't feel like love. I won't force her to go to church, but I will teach her about 1 Corinthians 13:4 and how to embody the nature of true love.
We'll recite it each night before bed as a shield to protect her from anything that goes boom in the night, so that she can continue to hold onto the whimsical, bubbly nature that I passed down to her.
She'll be raised in a household built from love, because her mother never settled. Her mother walked away from anyone who didn't feel like they belonged in her daughters future world. Instead, she took her time, fell in love with herself, and then created a life from that love, protecting it fiercely from conception to birth.
My daughter will know how to walk away from whatever doesn't feel like love, she’ll belive in herself fiercely, and she’ll be prepared for the kickback that comes from being a wild woman who walks with wolves.
She had a mother that was on a mission to transform the inner world she was going to be born from. A mother willing to burn it all down to rebuild it better.
She’ll know that walking away, and staying away, is going to be one of the most painful experiences of her life. She will face grief head on and grieve people that are still currently living in her life. She'll have to contend with loss—both of people and versions of herself.
But she will do it anyway, because the alternative is staying small, staying unsafe, staying in spaces that don't honor the gift that is her regulated nervous system.
Moving Forward
I've made peace with being the villain in their story. Now I'm stepping fully into being the architect of my own.
I don't need to defend my kindness. Those who experienced it know what it was.
I don't need to explain my boundaries. Those who respected them know why they mattered.
I don't need to convince anyone of my value. Time, distance, and my continued success will speak louder than any explanation ever could.
Welcome to the new Brownstone Magazine. This is what happens when a woman decides to build on her own terms, for people who show up authentically. This is what it looks like when you choose yourself completely. This is what a generational curse breaker looks like.
No apologies. No explanations. Just truth.
Just me. And the legacy I'm building for her.
Because the sh** ended with me.