Love Is Not Pain

By Damika "Meko" Kelly

Part tell-all, part cautionary tale, this emotionally charged memoir from former singer and songwriter nicknamed 'Meko' goes beyond the allure of superstar status to reveal the inner workings of the hip-hop and R&B music industry. Meko's journey is filled with physical and emotional abuse from her son's father, a Grammy Award

• Language: English
• Publisher: ELOHAI International Publishing & Media
• Release date: Oct 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781732497153

Damika "Meko" Kelly

Damika "Meko" Kelly is the author of Love is Not Pain and the CEO of Love Queen consulting. She serves as an image and brand consultant to professionals and artists as well as a mentor to teen girls. Affectionately known as "Meko the Boss," Damika Kelly's life hasn't always been defined by smiles and success. Meko's story includes a road often paved with pain and heartbreak at the hands of abusive men, music industry scandal, and personal drama. Through it all, however, Meko prevailed to earn her degree in communications, become a mother to three children, and launch multiple businesses and brands alongside her husband DJ Sixth Sense.

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Love Is Not Pain

THE TRUTH ABOUT A BOSS

DamikaMeko Kelly

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Love is Not Pain: The Truth about a Boss

Copyright© 2018 by Damika Kelly

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher. For more information, contact:

ELOHAI International Publishing & Media

P.O. Box 64402

Virginia Beach, VA 23467

ElohaiIntl.com

Published 2018

Printed in the United States America

This is a work of nonfiction. In some instances, names and locations have been changed and details have been omitted.

ISBN-13: 978-1-7324971-5-3 (ebook)

Cover Design by Brown & Duncan Brand

Cover Photography by Anthony Tilghman

For author requests, contact [e-mail] LoveIsNotPain.com

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my husband DJ Sixth Sense. Thank you for pushing me to follow my dreams and always supporting me. Thank you for loving me and caring for me when I didn’t love myself. And thank you for constantly telling me that I am beautiful, showing me I am loved and always hustling for our family.

Thank you for supporting our children and assisting them with their dreams and goals. Thank you for pushing me to finish school to get my degree, helping me start my own business, and being the best friend I could ever have.

Thank you for sharing your awesome mother with me. She is the epitome of class, the best inspiration for my life goals, and she never lets me forget how much you love me.

I will always love, protect, and respect you. You are my King and I am so grateful God chose you for me!

Acknowledgements

First, I would like to thank God for giving me the strength to finally write my story. It wasn’t easy but through His grace, I now feel complete.

Thank you to my three amazing children for your love and for being my biggest fans and cheerleaders. Thank God I was able to grow up and learn how to properly love, support and protect you. I will always dedicate myself to ensuring you are who God called you to be.

To my daddy, I am thankful you were always there for me when I needed you. I look forward to the day I see you face-to-face again to hug and kiss you and tell you how much I love you.

To my sisters and brothers, thank you and I love you so much. Love and thanks to my nieces and nephews–—you are all amazing and so special to me. To the Newkirk, Newell, McClelland, Gray, Herring, Andrews, Shaw, Vereen and Randall families, I love you all. To Marian, you are my best friend, sister, my strength and my guide. To Turtle, thank you for always being there reading and listening when I needed you.

Special thank you and shout out to my friend Gayle. In 2007 you took a chance to hire me and for years you stood up for me, pushed me, challenged me and loved me. Thank you for your awesome personality, for giving me a chance and for never being afraid to kick my ass when it needed to be kicked. I will always love and cherish your friendship.

Last but never least, I would like to thank Myrtle Kendall, Ida Caison, Larry Flack, Chris Valentine, DJ Sixth Sense, Scotty Beats, Dax Green, Leslie Green, Lorraine Green, John Scales, Jay Fenix, Rich Harrison, EZ Tommy, Carla Elliott, Preston Blue (R.I.P), Jay Stewart, Little Benny Harley (R.I.P), Lorenzo Johnson, Herb White, Godfather, Dominic Tru Painter, Comedian Dee Lee and Randy DJ Ran Gaskins. Because you believed in my talent, invested in studio time, and put me on stage, I was able to develop and become a successful singer and songwriter. I am thankful for everything you’ve done for me and I pray for peace and blessings to you always.

Love, Meko

Contents

Chapter 1: New Jack Boss 

Chapter 2: Damaged Boss

Chapter 3: Baddie Boss

Chapter 4: Unbothered Boss

Chapter 5: Crazy Love Boss

Chapter 6: Working Boss

Chapter 7: Philly Boss

Chapter 8: Lost Boss

Chapter 9: Patient Boss

Chapter 10: Messed Up Boss

Chapter 11: Weary Boss

Chapter 12: The Big Boss

Chapter 13: Deranged Boss

Chapter 14: Scared Boss

Chapter 15: Insane Boss

Chapter 16: Over-It Boss

Chapter 17: Church Boss

Chapter 18: Married-Again Boss

Chapter 19: Holy Boss

Chapter 20: Down Boss

Chapter 21: Forgiving Boss

Chapter 22: Out Boss

Chapter 23: Lonely Boss

Chapter 24: Up Boss

Chapter 25: Renewed Boss

Chapter 26: Strict Boss

Chapter 27: Almost-Happy Boss

Chapter 28: Bossy Boss

Chapter 29: Mother Boss

Chapter 30: Wife of a Boss

Chapter 31: Becoming Meko the Boss

About the Author

Chapter 1:

New Jack Boss

I sat up straight on my sister’s black leather couch and stared at the pregnancy test again. I inhaled, paused, and quickly exhaled before counting to ten. This was something I learned in the therapy sessions I began my freshman year of college. I felt an anxiety attack brew inside my stomach, but now wasn’t the time to lose my shit. I tried to sit back, but jumped up quickly as I struggled to catch my breath. I felt hot, then icky, and slowly felt my stomach churn. I stared at the third pregnancy test taken in two hours, and just like the others, it showed two pink lines.

Pregnant. So typical, I thought to myself. My big dreams to become a professional singer and songwriter and get discovered like my favorite performer, Mary J. Blige started to fade away. In my mind I was a better singer than Mary J. and whoever else wanted to come my way. The vision to get signed to a record deal with a major label and create generational wealth for my family was the only thing I wished for. My family supported every talent show, demo project and music competition I entered, and I wanted to be a star. As early as I could remember, my mother’s dream of singing at the Grammy Awards became my dream, and I became determined to make her proud. In the summer of 1997, I should have been prepared to return to the University of Maryland for my junior year, but I failed all of my classes. I desperately tried to make my daddy think I was focused on getting my degree in communications, but in reality, I daydreamed about styling hair and eventually owning my own salon. When I asked my dad if I could enroll in Dudley’s hair academy (Dudley’s Beauty School) he yelled, Hairdressers don’t make no money! You need to go to college and get an education! Truth be told, I hated the idea of attending college. I didn’t like being away from Daddy. I didn’t want to get raped or get pregnant. Besides, Daddy didn’t help my brother when he went away to college. He didn’t visit him, didn’t offer money for things he needed or support his football career. He also promised my Aunt Shelly to send her back to college after she dropped out to raise us after my mom passed away. I hated school; I hated my daddy for bullying me to transfer to the University of Maryland because he thought, Good jobs don’t hire people with HBCU degrees! All I wanted to do was sing. Music was the only thing I was passionate about besides curling hair, and my current gig of stripping at a stank, hole-in-the-wall strip club in Southeast, D.C. was supposed to be temporary. Besides, I couldn’t dance. I had zero rhythm and my body looked stiff and cold when I tried to spin on the pole. I had a perfectly round, overdeveloped ass, and full 38D tits, with what some called a beautiful face that I covered with long bangs so no one would recognize me. I will never forget the first night I stepped on the stage to dance. I could barely stand up in the clear, five-inch pumps and I squirmed in fear every time a customer came near me. One time an old, drunk homeless man tried to push money into my private place and I kicked him before I ran off the stage in tears. I feared for my life late at night as I left the club parking lot, worried someone would rob and rape me. Out of everything I was going through at this moment, I hated myself.

I spent years silently holding anger and bitterness inside. I stewed in pain, and often regretted the stupid decisions I made. I couldn’t blame the devil for most of it, especially for the problems I created, and it was long overdue to finally face the music. I needed to grow up and become the woman my mother would be proud of. Becoming a single mother made it harder to follow my dreams, but I kept pushing. I grew tired of sleeping on my sister’s couch and always having her ask me, "When are you getting a real job?" My mind raced as I thought about the decision I made to become a single mother. Depression slowly kicked in and overpowered my body as I thought about the trouble I was in.

I stared down at the bottle of Demerol pain medication I snatched from my dad’s house and listened as the voices in my head called for me to chug it down, chase it with a tall glass of vodka and make my pain go away forever. I feared for my unborn child’s life. He or she would grow up fatherless because my former sex partner didn’t want to face the responsibility of being a dad again. I went over it inside my head a thousand times, but I couldn’t get rid of my baby; it was the only thing I had. Besides, the thought of aborting another baby disgusted me. I wanted to fall in love, get married, and have children by a man who loved me, but my daddy’s words taunted me, Any dude can put his dick in your snatch and leave you alone in the next breath! Daddy schooled me early that sex and love weren’t the same thing. The day he drove me to Bowie State University to attend my freshman year, he broke down and cried. Love them and leave them alone Mika! he yelled at me.

After we lugged all of my belongings into my dorm room, I walked him to his gray, Lincoln Town Car and hugged his neck. For years I avoided falling in love because of his words. I dated a few guys here and there, and to some, I claimed to love them, but I never did. Hell, I didn’t love myself. How could I when I didn’t know what love was or was never properly taught to love anyone? Daddy never taught me about love and before that day he dropped me off at college, he rarely said he loved me. He kept my mind so twisted around about sex that for years I thought it meant a man would insert his penis in my rectum. Imagine the embarrassment I felt the first time I had sex. I was so scared he would put it in there, I cried! I developed high anxiety in college; between the nightmares of getting molested, I also suffered from insomnia. The pain I endured during those dark times pushed me into long, deep depressions. I also developed frequent anxiety attacks that pushed me to rely on two sources I felt helped me to survive. Smoking weed and multiple sexual conquests gave me the attention I desired to escape reality. I would do anything to check out, and that included selling my body or my mouth. I sat back on Cammy’s couch and closed my eyes. The white walls in her living room spun as I pushed my head back into the leather cushion. I became dizzy at the thought of the pain I endured as a child and young adult. I breathed slowly, but suddenly my chest quivered and I felt an anxiety attack brew. My mind raced with thoughts about the nasty things I did with men that violated my body. Feelings of unworthiness consumed me and the voices in my head returned. They told me I should go away forever and whenever I experienced these feelings of depression, I pushed my thoughts to the only person I ever felt loved me: my mother. I dreamed about her beautiful dark skin, slanted eyes, and her sultry voice that gave me chills. I thought back to the house where family grew up, in Woodbridge, Virginia. My mother was everything to me. She was the head of the Second Genesis youth choir at Divine Baptist Church and we often hosted complete strangers in our home that needed food and shelter. My mother didn’t mind going above and beyond for people in need. There were times when I didn’t know who was asleep in the bed next to me. I chose to remember the good parts of my childhood with Mommy. I couldn’t dare think about my daddy’s battle with alcoholism. Cammy told me stories about my parents’ constant arguments and them fighting each other. She said that during one of their arguments, our mother begged us to run out the house and get inside her car. She grabbed my hand and dashed up the stairs behind my brother Leon and we ran towards her orange Chevette. As soon as Leon pulled the car handle, two gunshots from Daddy’s pistol rang out and stopped us in our tracks. Cammy said we stared at each other, scared in complete silence as we waited for what seemed like an eternity to find out if it was Mommy or Daddy who was dead or alive. Cammy explained that after a few minutes, Mommy ran out of the house, pushed us inside her car and fled to her sister’s home. Our parents separated for a while, but eventually got back together after Daddy quit drinking, gave his life to Christ, and became a deacon at our church.

From the age of six to ten-years-old, I spent a great deal of my child-hood alone. Leon and Cammy were five and six years older than me and like most teenagers, didn’t want to be bothered. I was a straight-A student that enjoyed reading books and riding my bicycle with my neighbor, Kenny. I tried to make friends in my predominantly white neighborhood in the late 80’s, but I had too many odds stacked against me. I wore large framed prescription eyeglasses with extra thick lenses; my two front teeth were yellow and shaped funny and my hair always stood straight up on my head. My clothes were always wrinkled and I was never properly taught to care for myself. I found it difficult to find kids interested in the same things as me, and if I did find a friend, I was so mean to them that they avoided me or never played with me again. It wasn’t until Mommy started directing the youth choir at church that I met two of my best girlfriends, Gemini and Shanky. Shanky and I were both eight and Gemini was ten; the three of us were inseparable. We spent the night over each other’s houses, enjoyed playing with Barbie dolls, and often made up games together.

Mommy suffered from breast cancer, but she remained resilient. Her smile could light up any room. In 1984, she lost all of her hair from chemotherapy sessions and shortly after her left breast was removed. I hated to watch my mother’s health deteriorate and often questioned myself, why would God do this to my mother? She adored my daddy, loved me, Leon and Cammy, and everyone who came in contact with her fell in love.

Between the radiation treatments, frequent hospital stays, and her inability to work a steady job because of the cancer treatments, she allowed me to stay home with her all of the time. I slept in her bed while my daddy worked the overnight shift at the post office, and we were two peas in a pod. It tickled me to watch Leon and Cammy become jealous of how close she kept me. Looking back, I assume she wanted me to keep the memories of us spending time together to cherish later in life.

When my mother had to stay in the hospital for a long period of time in 1985, I didn’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital to visit her. Daddy, Grandma, and my aunts visited, but when I begged Daddy to take me, he said he would take me... soon. In January of 1985, he finally promised to take me to see my mother. It had been months since the last time I’d seen her. The excitement of the visit gave me goosebumps as I imagined holding her, smelling her perfume oil, and kissing her beautiful face again. I clearly recall the day I was scheduled to visit her in the hospital. I woke up earlier than usual, took a quick shower, scrubbed my teeth until they turned white because I knew Mommy would make me show them to her. I put on a pink sweater, a pair of boot cut jeans and my boots and patiently waited in the living room for Daddy to get home. I planned to wait at least an hour, but I wanted to be ready. My mother’s baby sister, Shelly, surprised me when she walked through the front door. She lived around the corner with my mom’s older sister. I immediately jumped up and hugged her. Aunt Shelly was smart, beautiful, and funny. She always took me, Leon, and Cammy out to have fun and helped us with our homework. Grab your coat sweetheart, she said. I ran to my room, tore through the closet, and found my pink, furry bomber jacket. When I returned to the living room, Aunt Shelly sat on our fuzzy, orange sofa and looked down at the floor. She lifted her head to me and tears streamed down her face.

Baby, I’m so sorry, she whispered. She grabbed me, and hugged my neck tight. I didn’t know what she was sorry for, but something wasn’t right. Suddenly the front door unlocked again and my brother Leon pushed through followed by my sister Cammy. They both were crying and seemed upset. Leon didn’t say a word, he pushed past us, ran towards his room, and slammed the door shut. Cammy disappeared down the hall too and I heard her mumble something about our mom, but I couldn’t make out why she was upset. My dad stumbled inside the front door, his eyes were red, filled with tears. As soon as he looked into my eyes, he broke down crying. He ran over and hugged me, didn’t say a word, he just held me in his arms for a few minutes before running down the stairs to his room.

I sat down on the orange couch, confused as I heard my family members crying all throughout the house. Aunt Shelly ran back and forth to Leon and Cammy’s rooms, all of them crying together. A few hours later, people began to flood our home with food and gifts. Each time they saw me they hugged me and said, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know why they were apologizing. Nobody explained to me what happened. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ran down the hallway to Cammy’s room to get an answer from her. I pushed open her door and found her sitting on her bed, pounding her fist into a stuffed teddy bear. She didn’t bother to look up and I became scared to bother her. I feared she would replace the bear with me.

I couldn’t help myself anymore. I wanted to know why everyone was at our house, crying and acting like they did something to us. Cammy, what’s wrong with you? Why is everyone so upset? I asked. Cammy’s head spun quickly, her eyes reminded me of the little girl in the Exorcist movie. Mommy is gone! She died, okay? Mika, are you crazy? she screamed out in agony.

I froze in place, took in the words Cammy said, and then it clicked inside my head. Mommy was dead, she wasn’t at the hospital anymore, she was gone. I began to cry and Cammy broke down in tears too. I screamed out in pain as we both sobbed, and held on to each other, as we begged God for our mom to come back. Cammy squeezed me tight. She cradled me in her arms and in that moment, I knew what the tears and sad faces were for. How could she leave me? I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye! I thought to myself. I didn’t know when she died, who was there with her, or what she said to my dad before she left us. There were unanswered questions, but the biggest puzzle piece I didn’t understand was why I wasn’t allowed to see Mommy when she was still alive in the hospital. I wanted to know why I couldn’t be there to say goodbye if my family knew she was dying. I became scared. I felt lonely and my heart hurt as it crushed thinking about my mother leaving. I could not understand why God took her away from me, from us. The pain was so unbearable and everyone kept telling me God must have needed her. The truth was, I needed her too.

There were two funerals held for my mother; one in Dumfries, Virginia and another in Watha, North Carolina. People swarmed for both funeral services. My mother was a woman everyone adored; they all loved her very much. The two churches flooded with family, friends and coworkers, all prepared to say their last goodbyes to God’s new angel.

Daddy became excessively distant after Mommy passed away. He worked the overnight shift at the post office and soon threw himself into college and left Aunt Shelly in charge of us.

I coped with my mother’s death by staying focused on my school work. I excelled and was eventually put into advanced classes for both reading and math. Leon’s vice became crushing guys on the football field. He was a scholar in school with a pick of colleges he could attend. Cammy dealt with Mommy’s death by dating boys, and she had many to choose from. The truth was, Cammy was absolutely beautiful. She was slim in the waist, heavy chested with long, thick, black hair and bushy eyebrows like Daddy. She also had a mean streak and proved it by beating up both the girls and boys at Potomac High School. Although she was tough, there were many people who adored her.

Cammy and I bonded heavily during that time. We did everything together, and I trusted her with my secrets and she gave me hers to hold on to. We were always there for one another and constantly leaned on each other when we went through things. There was a guy who secretly loved Cammy, but I didn’t like at all. One day after school, I rushed home to see if she wanted to ride bikes to the 7-Eleven down the street and surprised her when I pushed open her bedroom door. She laid across the bed and he sat next to her. His right hand stuck inside her shorts, rubbing her private area. I was shocked and didn’t know what to say. I became terrified and immediately ill at the sight of what he was doing. It turned out not to be the boyfriend she usually locked me outside for, it was our uncle.

I became so upset, I ran away from her room, dashed out the back door, and ran to the shed to get my bike. I ignored her calls after me to wait. I didn’t want to be a part of whatever he was doing to her. I ducked down past the shed, grabbed my bicycle, and pedaled as hard as I could to my friend Kenny’s house. When I knocked on his door, his mother informed me that he was still at soccer practice. I slowly walked back to my house and snuck in the back door. I slowly crept up the stairs to my room, but when I passed Cammy’s room, she saw me. Mika! She called, but I slammed the door and sat down on my bed. She tapped lightly on the door, pushed it open, and closed it behind her. I didn’t look up. I pretended to make my bed. After a few minutes of waiting for her to leave, I turned to face her. The tears streamed down my face as she grabbed me and pulled me to her. She asked, Are you okay?

Okay? Was she serious? Our uncle just touched her private place. I was not okay. Daddy taught us to yell out the word FIRE! if anyone touched us down there. People don’t answer to help, ya gotta scream fire to get somebody’s attention! He scolded us.

I looked at Cammy and yelled, No, I am not okay. We have to tell Daddy!Cammy quickly covered my mouth. No! Mika, we can’t tell anyone. If we do, we are both going to be in trouble. He threatened to kill us or Daddy if I told, she whispered.

I was devastated. A man we loved and adored was touching Cammy and going to get away with it. I wasn’t having it; I had to tell somebody. I knew if I didn’t tell, Uncle Len would do it to someone else, maybe me. I’m telling Daddy, I said to Cammy.

Suddenly, my door opened and Uncle Len stood in the doorway smiling at us. He knew I was upset. He pulled out an ice cream cone and a snicker bar to bribe me from letting everyone know what he did. He sent Cammy to the kitchen to get us a soda and closed my door behind him. I watched the door, and waited for Cammy to return. He began talking to me, and explained I too would develop body features like Cammy and boys would want to touch me in those special places. He said it was natural for boys to touch girls and wanted to demonstrate how good it felt to receive my first kiss. Uncle Len took his hands and placed them on my underdeveloped breasts. My body trembled as his fingers slowly crept past my stomach, and headed to my private area. I looked up at him and felt disgusted looking at the evil in his eyes. Run dammit, I thought to myself, but my legs wouldn’t move. My body stood frozen still. I shivered as Uncle Len’s hands touched my private areas. He took his index finger and tickled my vagina. I became mad and wanted to cry out, but the tears didn’t appear. He removed his hand from my vagina and took both hands, and traced my face. He then held my face and slowly moved towards me to kiss my lips. Suddenly my left leg came alive and I took both of my fists and pushed him away from me. I ran out of the room, sprinted past Cammy, bolted out the back door, and was relieved,to see Daddy’s blue Ford Torino pull up the driveway. I took both hands and flagged him down. I begged him to stop and to save me.

Daddy jumped out the car, yelled, What is it Mika? And I leaped into his arms and hugged his neck as tight as I could. I was hysterical. I couldn’t find my breath or the right words to say. Daddy needed to know what Uncle Len did to me and Cammy. I pulled myself together enough to scream out, Uncle Len! Daddy, it’s Uncle Len! Before I could say anything I saw Uncle Len standing at Daddy’s car door smiling at me. I looked back at my dad and he looked at Uncle Len with a confused expression on his face.

Daddy! Uncle Len is here," I lied.

I looked at my dad and he smiled back at me. I couldn’t do it; I didn’t tell him. Daddy hugged me, put me down next to him, and gave Uncle Len a firm handshake. Don’t pay her no mind; she just misses her mother, he told Uncle Len. Uncle Len smirked at me and nodded his head. We walked inside the house and Cammy sat at the dining room table pretending to read a book. She hugged Daddy and grabbed my arm. She pulled me down the hallway to her room. I looked back at Uncle Len and his eyes looked straight through me. It was the first time I had ever witnessed true evil. Later that night, I told Cammy what he did to me and we both decided to keep it a secret. Little did I know, later on down the road, it would rear its ugly head again, but that time we would have no choice but to tell somebody.

Chapter 2:

Damaged Boss

After my mother passed away, Leon, Cammy and I learned our dad fathered an older sister named Belinda, who lived in South Carolina. The story Daddy told us was that his father, a few uncles and other family members knew he was Belinda’s father, but kept it a secret from him. By the time we met Belinda, she was a teenager, married with children. She was tall, beautiful, and funny. Her facial features reminded me of an older version of Cammy.

The day we met Belinda, her mother, Freddy, drove up in her black Trans Am sports car with a sticker on the back that read, Big Butts Drive Me Nuts! She was solid—a real woman who became our second mother. Freddy was country, but she was so full of fun and her laugh would make you burst out in tears before you could hear the story. To this day, I laugh out loud thinking about some of the crazy things she said. Freddy also adored our dad. She loved to share stories of Daddy partying at my uncle’s outdoor club in Myrtle Beach with her back in the day. Daddy was raised by his Grandmother Carrie, and we stayed at the house Daddy built for her in the late seventies. Our family that lived in the neighborhood gathered at Mama Carrie’s for our annual cookout and cheered Daddy on when he lit fireworks.

In 1987 Daddy