I walked into Ebonylife Place with regrets. My friend had chosen this location and I was questioning her judgment in real time. There was no parking. I had ended up on the road outside, making peace with my decision, wondering if the spicy chicken wrap we had planned to grab first was even going to be worth all of this. We had specifically chosen this Ebonylife because there were no flyers anywhere about celebrity activity. No signs. No buzz. We thought it would be quiet. We

Call it trauma, but as a child I was always scolded for not finishing my food. --- My mum would make me sit there through the tears until it was mostly gone. For her, the sign of a healthy child was a chubby child who ate everything on their plate, even if they didn’t serve that quantity for themselves. The rule was simple: finish what is in front of you. You don’t waste food. You don’t leave the table. You finish it. It’s funny how these things stay with you. Because lately