Alexandria, We’re Tired of Seeing You Drunk on the Internet: It’s Time to Find Another Trick

This is a sensitive post for me to write. One I’ve wrestled with in prayer and thought, because I’m from the old-school church—Pure Holiness.

I was raised to believe that holiness is still right. Not this modern-day, do-what-you-want version of Christianity. I come from tradition, conviction, and reverence for the anointing. So trust me when I say, this isn’t coming from a place of judgment—it’s coming from deep love and concern.

Lele, we’re tired.

We’re tired of seeing you on the internet drunk. Tired of the slurred videos, tired of the breakdowns, tired of the world laughing when they should be interceding. You’re too grown, too gifted, too anointed, too seasoned to keep giving us this same rerun. And it hurts to watch!

We know there’s something deeper going on.

I’m not speaking as a spectator. I’ve had my own battles—with depression, with anxiety, with pressure so heavy it made me question if I even wanted to keep going. I’ve been in therapy. I’ve had addicts in my family. I know what it’s like to watch someone spiral and feel powerless to stop them. I don’t smoke or drink—but I wrestle with caffeine. Yes, coffee and tea. And some days I feel like I need it just to function. So I get that habits are hard to break.

But we’re watching you self-destruct in real time, and it’s painful.

Maybe it was losing the love of your life. Maybe it was your brother’s death. Maybe it’s all of it combined. I don’t know the whole story, but I know pain when I see it. And girl, we saw you in 2016, drunk on the internet singing “Drunk in Love” by Beyoncé.

You said you did it to expose yourself because someone was blackmailing you—and honestly, we gave you grace. We said, “We understand. She’s going through something.”

But that was almost ten years ago.

Look, we’ve all been through something.
We’ve lost people we loved. We’ve been fired. We’ve lived through recessions. Some of us watched our careers disappear overnight. Pastors are taking coding classes. People with master’s degrees are working front desks at the gym. Life has humbled all of us.

But at some point, the grieving has to become growing.

Grief is real, and nobody is denying that. But grieving is meant to be a season, not a lifestyle. It should be a period—not the whole sentence of your life. Yes, cry. Mourn. Take time to heal. But don’t unpack and live there. Don’t let your pain become your personality.

At some point, you’ve got to choose life again.

We all have our battles, but maturity means learning how to move forward while carrying the memories, not being paralyzed by them.

And you’re still showing up the same way. Still drunk. Still broken. Still bleeding online while the wolves circle. No, ma’am. This ain’t it. And it’s no longer just about you—it’s about the people who look up to you, the ones who were healed by your voice, the ones who found Jesus through your testimony.

It’s time to come up now.

You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t even have to be fully healed yet. But you do have to make a decision. Are you going to keep feeding your demons in public, or are you going to starve them in private and let the saints pray you through?

You’re not alone, sis. We’re here. But we need to know: what do you want? Do you want help? Do you want deliverance? Do you want change? Because if you do, there’s an army of women who are ready to pray, sow, support, and intercede. But you’ve got to want it too. Otherwise!