The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

I have found myself, for years, shrinking away from the desire not to be seen as loud, overbearing, too boisterous, and in-your-face! Years ago, I was told that my delivery was off-putting — that I ran people off, especially men, because of my tone and bold opinions. And because of that, I found myself falling into a pattern of feeling passionately about things but quieting my mouth because of those criticisms. I didn't want to run men off. I didn't want other women to dislike me! But boy, oh boy, what wonders does turning 50 bring — realizing that changing who you are for others doesn't necessarily change the trajectory of your life, nor the outcome of how things play out. The only person truly affected is you.

Kudos to any sister for speaking up, taking a stance, and realizing that these times we are living in — especially for our people — are a complete shit show. We just don't give a phuck about anything anymore. Our sense of pride in being Black people has diminished greatly, as well as our self-respect and what we used to refer to ourselves as: kings and queens. Gutter, ghetto, criminal, ratchet, and negativity are glorified by all — the old and the new. There are no distinguishing characteristics of growth that should come with age. 50-year-olds have the mindset of 29-year-olds, and the lines aren't blurred — they're blended.

I have sat and watched the complete disrespect of Black women who choose to speak differently from the thought processes of the masses, ripped to shreds. And sad enough is the co-signing by other women — and yes, even the Black men who, on any other day, want you to see them as KINGS. But you aren't thinking or acting like it, and you're not on your king and queen shyt! The things we glorify and embrace speak more of who we are and how we think than we even realize.

What many of us don't seem to realize is that the repeated use of certain words, phrases, and songs can function almost like a form of incantation. Whether you view that spiritually or psychologically, what we repeat over and over has a way of embedding itself into our psyche and eventually becoming part of our belief system. We begin to normalize what we constantly hear. Over time, that repetition can desensitize us, slowly eroding our moral compass. Before we know it, we're defending and justifying behaviors, mindsets, and lifestyles that at one time would have made us pause, simply because constant exposure has made them feel acceptable. We stop questioning whether something is healthy, honorable, or beneficial, and instead start asking why everyone else has a problem with it. That shift is subtle, but it's powerful.

In the '80s, we thought Malcolm X, Spike Lee, and Public Enemy were our leaders. We wanted better. Now I can honestly say that the thought process of my fellow Gen Xers is trash and immature.

We love to see trash-ass people like Kevin Samuels, Fresh and Fit, and Trick Daddy and the likes talk down on Black women. Y'all co-sign it. Y'all embrace it. Share it. Laugh at it. Give credence to it, making their words powerful — not to mention making them rich. You men contradict yourself on your expectations of a Black woman by glorifying the bullshit, but then talk down on her over the things you glorify. You women contradict yourself by speaking on the issues with ain't-shit men, but support the ain't-shit men who disrespect women — then turn around and get mad when the disrespect is specifically directed at you.

It's mind-boggling how you can call a Black woman, who has always carried herself with poise and respect and created music to elevate her people, OLD, WASHED UP, and JEALOUS — because she speaks out against music made by a woman who is everything men say they DON'T want in a woman: fake hair, fake body, ratchet, lives off men and wouldn't even deal with you if you're not spending money, supports a woman-beater, is sexually deviant, likes to be pissed on, raps about stealing, boosting, scamming…

A lot of you are simply sad and have zero clue as to just how phucked up your thinking is. And yet you don't understand WHY you are where you are in life — physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and financially. It's sad and disgusting at the same time.

Yeah, I said it.

Chloe

1 week ago (edited) | [YT] | 88

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

From the perspective of still being Daddy’s Little Girl

HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO THE ONES WHO STAYED

Not just in the house. But in the room. In the moment. Who stayed for and had the hard conversations and the quiet ones only you and they knew about. The ones who showed up when showing up wasn’t convenient, wasn’t celebrated, wasn’t even expected. Who showed up when the mothers tried to stop them, lied on them, drug their names through the dirt out of spite. Shout out to those of you who refused to give up and walk away, but CHOSE to stand ten toes down with both dukes up, and fight for your rights to be in their life! Black man I SALUTE AND BOW humbly to you! You are a king with an invisible and undeniable CROWN!

So today, I want to talk about what a present father does to a child’s spirit.

A daughter who has her father — she often walks differently from those who do not. She knows what it feels like to be chosen by a man. To be covered, to be protected by someone whose love doesn’t come with conditions based on what she brings to the table or the gravity of how much she has to stroke his ego to receive his love. She doesn’t have to go looking for it in the wrong places because she already knows what it feels like when it’s real. Daddy taught her that. Without saying a word sometimes. His presence and actions alone let her know she can trust his guidance and follow his lead. She sees and respects what he was ordained by God to be. His covenant that he took up with God on her behalf.

And a son with his father? Baby, that boy is watching his fathers every breath. He sees the mirror of who he is destined to be. He’s watching how you move. How you walk. How you talk. Everything down to how you throw a ball, your physical disposition and even how you pick up your fork to eat. He assumes your spirit be it by your presence or absence. He emulates how you handle pressure. How you treat the women in your life - including their mother. He sees the resilience in how you get back up. And he even sees how you lay down, if you do choose. Our black men can’t win off off words and speeches. He needs a true POSITIVE model. Because when a black father shows up and lives in front of his son, he’s building a man the world doesn’t even know yet. And he’s preparing him for a world that’s unkind and unfair. Not just to him, but to his black women as well.

There is no algorithm for this. No supplement. No substitute. No program, no system, no well-meaning somebody stepping in to fill that specific space. I don’t care how many times women wish themselves HAPPY FATHER’S DAY as a means of patting themselves on the back for doing it alone - it needs to be acknowledged that fathers are IRREPLACEABLE.

Not because they’re perfect. Lord knows none of us are. But because the imprint of a present father goes so deep into a child’s foundation that you can still feel it no matter life’s blows, decades later. In how they love. In how they choose. In how they recover.

And let me get a little personal for a second.

My daddy set a standard. And he did it ON PUPOSE and with intention! And he did it not with long drawn out speeches or sit-down talks. I only had him 18 years. But it was simply just by being who he was. And what that did, without either of us fully realizing it, was quietly build a measuring stick inside of me that I carry to this day.

So when I encounter a man, regardless of the mistakes that I have made in my past choices - something in me already knows. Not because I’m hard to please. Not because my expectations are unrealistic. But because my father showed me what a man looks and feels like when he’s operating with integrity. When he loves with consistency. When he covers the people in his care without being asked.

You can’t fault a daughter for her standards when her father built them.

She’s not being difficult. She’s not asking for too much. She is simply recognizing — or not recognizing — what she grew up watching. Some of you call it baggage. I call it her/my foundation.

And to the fathers raising daughters right now — this is your assignment whether you signed up for it consciously or not: teach her her worth by being her example. Not by telling her what she deserves. And especially not by telling other women what they don’t. But instead by showing her. Be the man in her life that she measures every other man against. Let her bar be high because you set it there. If she’s with an ain’t shit nigga, who was the role model?

That is one of the most powerful things a father will ever do. And most of the time, he doesn’t even know the full weight of it until she’s grown and choosing — and choosing well — because of him. Or not so well….because of him.

So today, I celebrate every father who is present, who is trying, who shows up even on the days they’re running on empty. The ones coaching the team, sitting in the recital, answering the late night calls, walking their daughters down aisles and standing beside their sons in rooms that matter, even before signing day.

You are not just needed.

You are necessary.

You are REQUIRED in order to build any person into who they are to be.

That’s a legacy.

That’s a father.

Happy Father’s Day to all my BEAUTIFUL BLACK MEN! I love you and I respect who you are and what you do! 🤎

#ChloeBDiaries #HappyFathersDay #FathersDay #FathersAreIrreplaceable #Fatherhood #PresentFathers #CoverYourDaughter #RaiseYourSon

3 weeks ago | [YT] | 225

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

Hey Seasoned Sistas!

Due to unforeseen circumstances, tonight's live on ‪@kymberlybonet‬ channel has been postponed. We apologize for having to reschedule; however, please look out for an announcement of the new date to come in the near future.

We thank you for the continued support of The Seasoned Sistas.

Love you!

Chloe

3 weeks ago | [YT] | 42

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

Dear CoconutLover2.

Because you have questions, I have answers, and I wanted to be sure to address your concerns fully because it seems that you have made it your business on my channel to be nasty......

Hmmmm. I feel the shade, Sis. It's really cute too. The last time you commented, you threw shade. And yet you hide behind a name with a coconut picture. But I got time today. It is early, so let's go.

I am a single mother. My daughter's father NEVER paid child support and gave me maybe $100 total her whole 30-year-old life. We were together from 1992 to 1995. That was what......31 years ago. So that is that.

My ex-fiancé and I were together in 1999 - 2002. I moved in June of 2000. We broke up in July 2002. So that was what? 24 years ago. I was still a single mother, so guess what, I still was paying for child care for MY child, my car note. My insurance. To take care of MY child. You know, her clothes, shoes....stuff like that you do when you are a single mother! I also paid for all the groceries, the cable, and water. Did a little shopping.....you know that kind of stuff. So let's fast-track to when I met my ex in 2003. I was working at AT&T. We didn't move in together immediately. So that is that.

I got laid off from AT&T in 2004 when they closed the call center, so you know, instead of him paying my rent and his mortgage, he asked me to move in with him. So from 2004 until I started working at Avaya in 2006, I had temp jobs, but nothing major. Just made enough to take care of my child, my car note, insurance, and child care (believe it or not, I never got government assistance). For some odd reason, I always felt I should work to take care of my child since even though he was providing a roof over our heads and for the most part acted as a provider, she was still MY child.) I also paid for all of the groceries, and mind you, he was raising his two teenage brothers, and our grocery bill often hit well over $1000 a month. I did all the cooking, so I did all the shopping. I also had an account that I deposited money into faithfully with every check so I could buy my daughter the CAR that was bought for her when she graduated from high school. I started working at Avaya in 2006. A lot of times when we went out, I would treat because he did pay all the bills and acted as a provider. We also lived deep off into Conyers, and I worked in Duluth, so I drove each morning about 20 miles in the morning to drop my daughter off at school in Decatur, then drove another 30 miles to work at Avaya, which was at 3795 Data Drive, Norcross, GA. When I got off work, I had to drive back to Decatur to pick up my daughter and then drive back home to Conyers, where I cooked dinner EVERY night with the groceries that I bought. I spent a pretty penny on gas. I saved some, but I also spent some, you know what I mean. I bought my own clothes, I bought my daughter clothes, and I paid for her after-school care. Paid on my student loans. I paid to keep my hair and nails done. You know that kind of stuff. Okay bet.

So in 2007, I found out he was cheating, and it was really hard for me to deal with. So I decided to move out and get my own place. BOOM, I'm back to paying my own rent, car note, insurance, utilities, student loans... You know that kind of stuff. Then in 2008, do you remember how gas was like 5.00 a gallon for a while? Girl girl girl....I was driving then about 70 miles round trip based on where I live, and I had a 2008 brand new Mustang and could only use premium. Girl, that was rough. And then.......BOOM.....2009, they closed down Avaya, sent everyone to Oklahoma City who had 4 years. I was 2 weeks shy, but I didn't want to go anyway. Do you know that when I got laid off in 2009, it took me over a year to find a job, but somehow I managed to still take care of me and my daughter, pay my car note, keep a roof over our heads, food in our stomaches, the lights on....although it got rough and the water got cut off a few times and I had to flush the toilet with water I got from Walmart. Do you know that he and I broke up in 2009, also? But that doesn't matter because we were not living together.

Do you know it's now 2026? I have never been on government assistance, I've never begged a man for anything, including to pay my bills, and I've been laid off about 5 times and even had to cash in my 401 K a few times, as well as my pension from AT&T, because I don't believe in handouts. Do you know that I have a hustle mentality and have even worked 4 jobs - Amazon Flex, Instacart, Lyft, Doordash - simultaneously to take care of my child BY MYSELF. Do you know that the last time I lived with a man was 17 years ago?

But most importantly, do you know how much easier it is and how much better it is for your nervous system to be a nice person and not seek out the opportunity to look for fault and be nasty towards another sister? Do you know that women like you come off as unhappy to me, and so, whereas I used to get upset, now I'm better. Understand that when people are dark inside, they project it onto others? Do you know that before I typed this, I touched my computer screen and PRAYED for you? I sure did. Because being cynical and throwing shade is a sign for me to give you GRACE instead of coming back at you, matching energy. I already said that JUNE will be my month of restoration, and here you are, SATAN, already trying to spit on the cloud God has placed me on. As my girl @highrawvegan said....ARE YOU OKAY?

1 month ago (edited) | [YT] | 59

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

Never really thought about ageism until I started playing kickball and found myself in a situation where someone kept calling me “that old lady.” At the time, I was in my early 40s, and they were in their early 20s.

And yes, it hurt.

It hurt my feelings badly because this was someone I once considered my little sister.

Fast forward to today, and they’re now 40 themselves and could easily be referred to by someone younger as “that old lady.”

One thing I firmly believe is that time will humble us all.

Just keep on living.

It took me a long time to embrace the fact that I’m seasoning. Truth be told, there are days I still forget I’m 55 and not 35. Hell, sometimes I forget I am not even 45. I still feel young, and to a degree, act young. I mean, how should a 55-year-old act?

Should I be walking around all day in housecoats and mu-mu's, wearing those pink fuzzy house shoes with the thin white bottoms, with pink rollers in my head, smoking a Newport and on the phone gossiping with All My Children playing in the background? Or maybe, I should go out wearing Lee jeans, SAS shoes, a loud-colored, flowered oversized shirt I got out of Sears that has those gosh-awful built-in gold necklaces, and wear Fashion Fair foundation and Posner cherry red lipstick.

I still rock my short shorts because I want to and, cot dammit, because I can! Both my parents are gone, so I am the boss of me.

I still wear my tank tops with no bra because my titties are still pretty.

And as you can clearly see, I’ve also reached an age where I say what the phuck I want, do what I want, go where I want, wear what I want, and I no longer shrink myself to make other people comfortable.

I ain’t everybody’s cup of tea, and that’s perfectly fine with me.

Nobody has to live this life but me.

I refuse to look back ten years from now wishing I’d done this or tried that, but didn’t because I was worried about what somebody else might say or think.

NO ONE... and I mean no one... not family, not friends, not even my own child, gets to dictate how I live my life.

I have more days behind me than I do in front of me, and I intend to live the rest of them exactly how I please.

Now, back to ageism.

I was scrolling DJ Envy’s page and saw where Bobby Shmurda threw shade at Jay-Z over the freestyle he performed at the Roots Picnic, basically saying, “Sit down, old head.”

The comments were going crazy.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a major Jay-Z fan for a whole host of reasons. Now those wicks he had growing on his head? Baby, I wasn’t a fan of those at all. I was pleasantly surprised when he cut them off.

But that’s beside the point.

Ageism is real.

What’s funny to me is how people throw Jay-Z’s age in his face and call him old, while in the same breath they criticize André 3000 for saying he felt like he had moved beyond making traditional rap music.

There’s only about a five-year age difference between them.

What stands out most is how selective people are about aging.

We’re still packing out concerts for Patti LaBelle, Gladys Knight, The O’Jays, Mary J. Blige, New Edition, Erykah Badu, En Vogue, Keith Sweat, Babyface, SWV, and countless others.

Nobody is telling them to sit down.

The fans aren’t telling them to sit down.

The younger artists aren’t telling them to sit down.

Why?

Because talent, impact, and legacy don’t suddenly expire because you crossed an arbitrary age line.

The difference with Jay-Z is that his catalog is diverse. He hasn’t painted himself into a corner. By the time he reaches 70, he can remove certain records from the setlist and still sell out arenas because much of his music is timeless.

Can Bobby Shmurda say the same?

And that’s not hate. That’s a legitimate question.

If Bobby reaches Jay-Z’s age, what exactly is his concert going to look like?

Is he going to be 70 years old performing “Hot N****,” “Bobby Bitch,” and “Cash Out”?

He’s 31 years old. He spent seven of those years in prison. His net worth is reportedly less than half a million dollars.

Meanwhile, you’re taking shots at a man worth over a billion dollars who has managed to remain culturally relevant across multiple generations.

Listen, you don’t have to like Jay-Z.

You don’t even have to like his freestyle.

But one thing age has taught me is this:

Be careful who you call old.

If you’re blessed, you’re headed in the same direction. Too many young folks aren’t even making it to half the ages y’all clown — and 55 ain’t even old.

And honestly, a lot of you are looking our age already, like life has been dragging you by the ankles. The drugs. The drinking. The unhealthy eating. The nonstop partying. The chaos. It’s catching up fast, and the mirror you’re looking in is lying to you.

Keep on living. Just keep on living….

Love, Chloe

1 month ago | [YT] | 104

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

Good Afternoon, Sistas!
Happy Sunday. I hope everyone has had a great and relaxing weekend.

I wanted to pop in and say THANK YOU THANK YOU....to all the Seasoned Sistas who showed up yesterday for our meet up. I cannot tell you how much of a high I am still floating on from seeing so many beautiful faces. Right before people began walking up, Tracie and I had said, "Ain't nobody going to show up. It's just going to be us." But God! He said, "HUSH YOUR MOUTH, CHILD." And boom, there you all were. All in your own beautiful, glorious selves.

It felt good to be able to put faces with names.

We walked. We talked. We made new connections and friends. And then we sat down and, as they say, broke bread together and laughed and talked some more.

All of you truly mean the world to me, and I'm not just saying it out of some old fluff. You really and truly do. Thank you for being you, and thank you for allowing me to just be me.

And on that note, Kymberly Bonet is popping in town on June 20, so she wants us to RUN IT BACK! Look for more information to come soon.

Also, for anyone who took pictures, can you please email them to me, or send them to me: 470-333-2270.

Thanks Bunches,

Chloe

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1 month ago | [YT] | 361

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

Happy Mother’s Day to every woman who has nurtured, sacrificed, prayed, poured, protected, carried, comforted, corrected, and loved… even when nobody clapped for it. 💐

Today, we celebrate the mothers raising babies, the women who became mothers to grown adults overnight, the aunties who stepped in, the grandmothers holding generations together with grace and grit, and the women who mother simply through love alone.

And today, I also want to hold space for the women whose hearts may feel a little heavier.

To those whose mothers are no longer here…
To the mothers who have experienced the unimaginable pain of losing a child…
To the women longing to be mothers…
To anyone navigating this day through tears instead of brunch reservations and flower deliveries…

I see you too. 🤍

May today meet you gently.
May memories bring more smiles than sorrow.
May love find you in the quiet moments.
And may you never forget that the care you gave, the love you shared, and the lives you touched still matter deeply.

From my heart to yours…
Happy Mother’s Day, ladies. 🌸

Love,
Chloe B.

2 months ago | [YT] | 261

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

🌸 SEASONED SISTAS ATL WALK MEETUP 🌸

ATL ladies… It’s time to lace up, step outside, and enjoy some fresh air, good conversation, and a little movement on the BeltLine! 👟💧

Join Being Chloe Barksdale (@beingchloebarksdale) and I Am Tracie Lynn (@iamtracielynn) for a fun and easy walk centered around connection, laughter, and building community.

📍 MEET UP:
Saturday, May 16, 2026
11:00 AM
Publix Lower Level Parking Lot
905 Memorial Dr SE
Atlanta, GA 30316

🚶🏽‍♀️ WALK:
Atlanta BeltLine

🍽 LUNCH (Walkers AND Lunch-Only Guests Welcome!):
12:00 PM
Muchacho
904 Memorial Drive SE
Atlanta, GA

Whether you’re coming to walk, talk, laugh, or just meet us for lunch, you are absolutely welcome. Come as you are and bring that good energy with you.

Don’t forget:
👟 Comfortable Walking Shoes
💧 Your Water Bottle

Let us know if you’re coming. We're looking forward to meeting our ATL Seasoned Sistas in real life! 💕

2 months ago | [YT] | 109

The Chloe Barksdale Diaries

Travel will humble you if you’re paying attention.

Now back at my room for the night, I was just talking to my sister about how emotional I was earlier as the realization hit me of just how blessed I — WE — truly are.

We, as in those of us who live in the United States. We don’t realize it most of the time because we are so accustomed to our way of life.

When I decided to book this trip last minute, in my mind I said I NEEDED a vacation. I NEEDED a getaway, believing that my life had started to become a little stressful and overwhelming.

Most days, I look around me at the chaos that is my home, and I just wander from room to room, doing a little bit of this and a little bit of that, not realizing that my actions are like peeling the bark off a huge pine tree that I want to cut down.

Of all the times that I have come to Mexico, I have always stayed at a resort. It’s safer, plus, it’s most convenient. You only need a few pesos to tip the servers — if you aren’t one of those entitled people who believe that all-inclusive means EVERYTHING.

But this time, there were two things I wanted to do.
I wanted to find the cheapest stay possible, and I wanted to experience REAL street tacos and immerse myself in the culture.

When I chose where I would stay, I first checked with Earl Simmons, my homie, who has been here for three years. I remember when I first spoke to him about expats living in Mexico. We were in Tampa for the Falcons game. He was in awe. He said he was going to look into it. Then said he was going to move here.

I said, “Yeah, right!”

Then I looked up, and in less than six months, he was actually living in Mexico.

Every time I come down, he’s like, “We need to hang out!” But it just hadn’t happened. I never wanted to leave the resort.

But this time, between calculating my money and also wanting to experience the culture, I chose to stay in the middle of the action. And I am more than happy that I did.

Last night I said I wanted true, authentic Mexican food, and that is what I got. I also got a glimpse of where I was in proximity to the hub of the city — dead smack in the middle.

Today, I chose to venture out and, as we say in Decatur, BEND A FEW CORNERS (or TURN, however you choose to say it).

What was supposed to be a half-mile walk to Walmart turned into nearly four hours of exploration.

Let me say this — GPS, Google Maps, Apple Maps, and Waze are the best inventions since they stopped charging for long-distance calls.

Now I understand how so many young people are quick to up and move to a new city — a new country even.

But these last 24 hours have also made me understand how easy it is to move to Mexico. The people here are so kind. And I can tell it’s not because of being a tourist. You can look in their eyes and see they are simply genuine people.

They don’t take things for granted the way that we do. The way they thank you over and over again when you tip them shows just how appreciative they are.

I came back to the room, rested, and then decided I would run back out to grab some street tacos before winding down for the evening.

I found myself again in the hub of the city, and it is mind-blowing just how busy it is on a Tuesday evening.

I grabbed a smoothie and was on my way back, saying I’d grab two street tacos from the guy I passed on my way out.

Earlier today, I stopped and got my first henna tattoo. I didn’t realize that I had left the bracelet that was given to me for my birthday.

I was just walking through the crowd on my way back when the lady who had done my tattoo spotted me, apparently, and suddenly I heard:

“Señorita! Señorita! Bracelet! Bracelet! Left bracelet!”

I didn’t even know she was talking to me until she ran up to me with her hand outstretched — holding my purple bracelet with the scorpion charm.

She had spotted me out of the crowd and taken the time to make sure I got my bracelet back.

Then, as I stood waiting for my street tacos, watching how the man — who had been out there all day long — was so kind and working so hard on the side street away from the hub, asking everyone who walked by if they wanted to buy a taco…

It hit me.

Just how hard these people work, sometimes for so little.

But it really hit me what is going on in the United States.

I thought about how many of them truly do work the jobs that we often feel too entitled to do, just to support their families back home.

America IS the American Dream that we take for granted.

Then I thought about how emotionally removed I have been about the ones being rounded up like cattle and thrown into — truthfully — concentration camps. Treated as less than human. Separated from their families. Kids not knowing where their parents are, and vice versa.

I thought about how they are looking to build another place to house these people in Flowery Branch, treating them like they are not even human.

And it really bothered me that I take so much for granted.

The things I complain about really are minute in comparison.

I just…
I just…
I just truly understand just how blessed I really am.

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2 months ago | [YT] | 117