Listen. I love reality TV. I mean all of it. Survivor, The Amazing Race, Big Brother (thank GOD surfer bro is gone), MTV’s The Challenge (CT, come sit with me), The Kardashians, and every single city of The Real Housewives—yes, all of them. I watch like it’s a Black Oprah-approved self-care ritual. And one of the best things about it? I get to feel so much better about myself. You know the feeling—like, damn, at least my chaos isn’t that chaotic.
Which got me thinking: as much as I fantasize about being on my own reality show (oh, I’d slay), there are a few very good reasons I haven’t released my homemade sex tape to the world… yet. And some of y’all need to thank me for that.
Crying During Dr. Phil – If I had a reality show, the world would see me ugly-cry over Dr. Phil episodes. “Why won’t my man text me back?” Sis, you ain’t ready. We don’t need that kind of evidence of my feelings out in public.
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Naked Everything – I don’t just cook naked. I clean naked. 4-wheel through the mud naked. You’re welcome, America. Some rules are self-made, and honey, I make my own rules.
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Sleep Is Sacred – If I had a reality show, you’d all hate me when I sleep past 9 a.m. Sorry, not sorry, but I am not out here tinfoiling my windows for Instagram aesthetics. Sleep is an operational necessity.
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Honey Boo Boo? Bye. – Child, please. There is only one biscuit in this business, and it’s me. If I had a show, Honey Boo Boo would be living rent-free in a different time zone.
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Family Matters – Reality TV is great until your parents literally block your number for life. There are some things that need to remain sacred, and trust me, my people do not play.
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Pop Hits Are Required – If I had a reality show, you better believe I’d still sing Britney’s “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman” at 3 a.m., hairbrush mic and all. Ratings gold, y’all. Don’t @ me.
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Eating Is Optional – I would probably stop eating on camera. Watching people chew—ugh, that is a violation. Hungry, skinny, judgmental Leata would dominate your screen. It’s an acquired aesthetic.
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Violence, Nudity, Profanity – Let’s be real. My show would get pulled faster than Lil’ Wayne dropping another verse with 50 “n—” words in one line. Acts of violence, nudity, profanity, x-rated content? Check. One-week run? Probably. But it’d be legendary.
Reality TV may glorify chaos, but I run my chaos with strategy, style, and boundaries. You don’t get Leata just anywhere. this isn’t a cameo, baby. Until the world is ready, we just keep watching from the couch, judgment glass in hand, sipping something strong, and taking notes.
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