What are your thoughts and emotions around the quote:
If you found your “person” hold them close because there are people in the world stealing spouses.
– Bishop Greg Davis
That quote led to an in-depth discussion with my partner. I asked for his thoughts. His response, “no one can be stolen if they don’t want to be.” I agreed.
But, I added that no one is personal property and we should all consider ourselves on loan. Some loans are longer than others. Some have multiple lenders. He didn’t agree.
That deflated any hope I had in us having a common understanding of what open and honesty looks like in a relationship.
With that said, I feel that the quote implies that we should suppress our connections with others FOR YEARS (some of us a lifetime…yikes!). If so, then I question, what fun is a relationship if you can’t continue to freely explore YOU in the process?
You honestly may judge me for what I’m saying. But distraction is real. If you’ve never been distracted and are over 30, good for you – you’re on an island. There are plenty of us who understand that attraction is unpredictable and inevitable.
Lately I’ve been distracted. There’s someone whose energy has captured my attention. Nope, I swear I haven’t acted or said anything that would make me disloyal to my partner.
But – the constant thought of connecting with his guy is definitely there. I watched his videos and clicked his photos plenty of times, fantasizing of his lips against mine. I am one double tap away from flagging my own account – just so I can get kicked off the platform. HA!
Yes, sure, it’s all fantasy. I understand that I am enamored by this person’s façade of what they want to show. I know that the connection may be a disappointment in real life. I get all of that. But, as a Scorpio and a an overachiever, I ambitiously conquer my quests.
As a writer, I thrive in fantasy land. I’m yearning for the collision of fantasy and lust. This could be the inspiration behind my next big piece. If you know me, you know that I am an erotic writer at heart. Zane, Daniel Allen, and E. L. James are my girls. They get me!
Motherhood and society – on the other hand – don’t always understand.
I’m a sucker for written love notes. I eat them up because they play with my mental. There were a million times that I thought of sending him something slick to tap into a game of mental warfare. But, I have been good. I promise!
Damn society for its stipulations on partnerships. Can’t we just connect with people as the mood hits and then disconnect with them right after? I’m not trying to go around connecting with everyone…just those who I genuinely vibe with.
Others feel this way, they just don’t express it openly. Therefore, they cheat, and it’s wrapped under the guise of “people stealing partners.” We all know that’s not entirely true.
If more people would openly communicate about their true desires – just as they would confide in their closest friend – then maybe cheating wouldn’t even be a thing. Maybe there would be more polyamorous and free-spirited people who understand that intimate connections can be made while still sustaining long-term, fulfilling relationships.
What do you think? Is your ego in the way of allowing your partner to be completely honest with you about their human desires?
Thanks for listening to my rant and allowing me to stimulate your mental – yet again! 🙂
I use to believe everyone was born with something special inside of them – a sort of knowing.
I believed everyone understood their purpose, knew their assignment, and was happy to execute. Only recently have I learned that it’s quite possible not everyone has the instinct to tap into their higher power.
The supernatural always fascinated me. At a young age, I took interest in reincarnation, UFO, and ghostly phenomenon. My fascination came from a place of knowing that these things occur. My goal was to have others solidify it with me.
Instead, I found not everyone was interested in entertaining such talk. Though, my father entertained it, he also warned that I shouldn’t play in Pandora’s box if I was not certain what was on the other side.
It wasn’t until later on in life that I learned there were unexplainable events that occurred within three points of separation from me the whole time.
I’ve had a few supernatural phenomenon occur to me directly during my lifetime. I’ve foreshadowed events. I’ve had spiritual encounters – mostly in my sleep. I was pushed down the stairs by an unseen force (probably the same one that pushed my son out of his bed). I witnessed a shape diminish during the middle of the night. I’ve had strange marks on my body (like needle points).
My mother is super sensitive to objects. I don’t think she’s fully aware, but she has said things like, “I could feel the pain that calf felt when it was killed,” after taking a bite of a burger. She’s also claims to feel a cough through the phone and has asked for objects with “weird” energy be removed from her house.
My father was in the Navy in the 70’s. He and his shipmates witnessed an UFO event while in the middle of the ocean. They were told by their superior not to speak on it or put in any reports.
My father says he was visited by a succubus back in the 80’s and he could not move. (Don’t laugh, it frightened him terribly.) He told my mother right away, who was sleeping right next to him when it happened.
My maternal grandmother was on a plane one day in the 80’s. She and the guy behind her sighted an UFO fly by their window. I was told they looked at each other and agreed “they didn’t see anything at all” out of fear of articulating it to others.
My son would often report ghostly figures in his room before the age of three. One of those figures (he said had horns and red eyes) pushed him out of his bed and stood over him.
There have been countless protections from disasters that should have occurred to my family or me – but didn’t.
All of these things sound scary, but there’s a burning desire in me to know more about who we are, why we are here, and what this has to do with our existence. Though, I move cautiously because my father’s words about Pandora’s box are not lost.
Over the years, my interest in diving into my spiritual power diminished and instead, I chased the American dream.
It wasn’t until a few years ago, I was tuned into a reality show and saw a medium (Rev. Justin Terry) give a reading to one of the cast members. For whatever reason, I was drawn to him. Eventually, I made an appointment to have a reading done because I yearned so deeply to connect with one of my favorite aunts.
During our reading, I learned so much. His gift is undeniable and I received answers to questions that I didn’t even know I had. That reading stuck with me, and in many ways, I was envious that he was able to hone in on his gift. It sparked a renewed interest within me to be brave and begin to channel my higher power.
Fast forward a year and I recently gifted my father with a reading from Justin. Spot on again!
The past few months have been a bit challenging as I am forced to find ways to balance my physical and spiritual health. I’m embracing a renewed interest on a journey that will hopefully lead to a spiritual awakening. I want to be cleansed of everything that I’ve been taught on how humans operate. There is a whole path filled with peace and beauty that I want explore!
My company, Sixth Sense Publishing, is a direct reflection of my lifelong fascination and belief that we are spiritual beings having a human experience. I can’t wait until we all awaken!
Human behavior has always been a mystery to me. I never understood how some people need to be in the company of others.
I never understood how so many people can rally behind an idea or person to their demise. I can use this analogy as it relates to religion. I can use this analogy as it relates to nations.
As a woman who has always enjoyed solitude and questioned certain authority or ideologies, I am always baffled how easily people can be swayed and how quickly they give up their mental power. It’s as if they do not realize the mind is a magnificent energy source!
Sometimes, I feel as if life’s realityis an upside down reflection of our actual experiences. Our beliefs often seem backward. For example:
Why do men run the world when many can’t (or don’t) run their household? It’s the women who usually set up the logistics.
Why are people taught that black and brown skin is inferior? In fact, it’s the melanin in the skin that has the natural ability to absorb the sunlight.
Why do people say that the sky is the limit. Is it really?
Switching gears for a second…
Let’s examine our ideologies around productivity and work ethic. I find that much of what we find to be productive is actually outdated and inefficient.
I constantly question the idea of a forty-hour work week and the notion of hourly pay.
Why are doctor offices operating on a Mon-Fri 9-5 schedule? Wouldn’t they be much more effective to the public if they were also available after-hours?
Why aren’t mental health days and customized work schedules normalized in company calendars?
When You Learn, You Grow. When You Grow, You Sow.
B. F. Glenn
Sometimes, I believe the whole Adam and Eve concept is talking about a battle of our minds, not mankind. What I mean by that is, a limited belief keeps us bound to negative or fearful emotions. In today’s society and around the world, I see ignorance thriving and common sense dying.
I once questioned why the Creator hasn’t given up and started over. Over the past few years – with the state of the world still in total chaos – that sentiment rings true.
I don’t know. Here I go again, trying to stimulate your mental. 🙂
Did you know that society misses out on all of your greatness when you are complacent? Complacency breeds ignorance and nothing valuable can ever flourish in an ignorant environment.
I often look at the lives of people who had the time to binge on videos (television, IG, Facebook, or otherwise). I compared that to their circumstances. Some of them were okay with their circumstances while others were not satisfied with their career, their housing situation, nor educational status. What they failed to realize is that they’ve become complacent at some point – sucked in the vacuum of constantly being entertained. When one is constantly entertained, they are often being entertained by the hard work of those who were not so complacent.
Every successful person has one thing in common. They cannot become complacent or else success slips from their grasps. Every producer, writer, artist, manager, and so on is constantly learning, growing, doing, and resisting complacency. Therefore, productivity is the enemy of complacency.
Being productive means to actively seek opportunities to learn new things, think critically, and apply best techniques, even if it takes you out of your comfort zone or upsets others. Sometimes productivity comes at a cost of isolating yourself from certain situations or people. But, I guarantee, it will be for the better.
So what does it mean to be complacent? Complacency exists when you are no longer productive. For example, repetitively fine-tuning step one of a task that requires eight other steps. This is busy work because you need to go through and test all eight steps before you can fine tune anything. Correct or no?
It’s not easy for entrepreneurs to follow their dream every day. But, each day, they get up and make it happen. If they want to stay afloat, they have to actively learn more and execute what they’ve learned. They do it because the end goal is to resist the pitfalls of a complacent lifestyle. Your favorite store, your favorite artist, and your favorite leader each made a conscious decision to be productive – even if it meant working long hours or isolating themselves to do so.
Look at them now. Their productivity adds so much value to society. When they speak people listen – because they have proven to follow the rules of productivity. And, many of them have changed the trajectory for an individual, a group, an organization, or the world! Your productivity will also help someone else to create whatever it is that they were meant to create.
Please do not get complacent. Seek out educational opportunities and like-minded people that will help you to live your best life. Take a look at your habits and determine if you are spending too much time not focusing on bettering yourself or your situation. Are you adding as much value as you possibly can to a room?
IDK, here I go trying to stimulate your mental again. 🙂
My mother was raised by her mother. My maternal grandmother identified herself as African American and there was no more said about it. Mom only knew of a handful of relatives on her mother’s side of the family. All of them lighter skinned.
Despite not knowing her father, my mother always checked the African American or Black box on slips and medical forms. But, my mother always felt that there was more to her story. She was too light for some and too dark for others.
When I was in high school, my mother came to an event. A classmate said to me, “I didn’t know your mother was white.” It was the first time I realized that my mother was not distinctly African American.
It’s not the first time mom was called out. She’s been mistaken for Hawaiian, Spanish, and Caucasian. Most ironic, she’d always get approached by local Native American tribal members and asked “Are you one of us?”
A few years before my grandmother’s passing, I saw a picture of my great grandparents. There’s no way you could convince me that they were Black. But, my mother insisted they were! After all, she never questioned her mother’s word that she was anything other than African American.
So, ‘Fast forward’ to a few years ago… My mother started a search for her father. It was a long and arduous search that started with a DNA test. All the matches on the platform for her were of Native American descent, more distinctly, the local tribe that always asked “Are you one of us?” Conclusively, mom is Native American on both sides of her parents. Literally, I went to school and befriended many from this tribe, so it’s crazy to think that we are all estranged.
Based on conversations with others in the tribe, and a wealth of proof, my mother and I became official members of the tribe.
I am excited to learn about the culture and the opportunity to share these things with my son. But, I feel like an impostor. It’s as if all of that “passing” my mother and grandmother did when it came to other ethnicities now haunts me as I try to claim and embrace my actual heritage. Granted, at no fault of my mother.
My mother, whose parents are now deceased, has no deep bond or real connection with any tribal members she’s come into contact with during her search. And let’s be honest…no one is exactly jumping through hoops to help her navigate to the right lane or to fill in the blanks. Remember, my grandmother was estranged from the tribe, and who knows if my great grandparents were also. There’s certainly a disconnect and no life-line for my mother nor I to cling to going forward.
At any rate, I was already proud to be 100% African American before discovering my true heritage. But, now I am also just as proud to be 50% Native American. And I am just as excited to share with my son that he is also part Native American. But, I have to be fully comfortable saying it out loud, right?
Once again, impostor syndrome kicks in. What will the tribe think of me saying it? I have no idea of their customs. Will I become that flamboyant “LOOK AT ME! I AM NATIVE AMERICAN, HEAR ME ROAR!” distant cousin that no one wants to acknowledge? Even though I’m proud to have the tribal enrollment card, share the same DNA as the Chief of the tribe, and have proof of my heritage, I do not feel worthy or as if I belong.
Furthermore, my impostor syndrome really kicked in when my son’s class did heritage week. I proudly told my son that he was of African American and Native American descent. When he relayed that to the class, the teacher became ecstatic and asked what customs he could share with the group. Oh oh… My son looked at me and I shrugged because I have no idea!
I have no idea what happened between my grandmother and grandfather. The truth remains with them. My mother currently assured me and the rest of her family that she feels highly blessed, serene and complete; knowing “Mission Accomplished” in finally knowing who her dad is, his final resting place, and most importantly to obtain a (middle-aged) picture of him. Surprisingly, when she showed me the picture, a sense of peace came over me. His picture is below. My mother looks like him.
We all have our shit. If you follow my work, you are familiar with mine. You know that I’m tired of relationships and marriages. Yet, I met a man that has me captivated beyond belief. Though this time, I’m crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s.
How did he get me? Here are his qualities. He is:
If you want anyone to trust you, be open.
A wise man once said, “A closed fist cannot give nor receive.” The same is true for a closed mind or a closed heart. Still, society promotes being closed off to avoid being hurt. But just think, if everyone walked around with a closed heart, the chances of being swept away by love may not occur.
My guy gives me his all, even though he gets shit from some of his friends for doing a lot for me…a woman that isn’t sure she’s ready to settle down. However, his openness allows me to receive all he has to offer and appreciate his seriousness. When friends ask him why he does things for me, his response is “I want to do things for her and with her. I understand the consequences if things don’t work out in my favor.”
I can’t lie. His “vulnerability” is contagious and I’ve become open in turn.
A Great Communicator.
Great communicators can usually keep situations and relationships even-keeled.
Anyone that doesn’t communicate well may eventually use anger, manipulation, verbal abuse, or cheating as a way to deal with their emotion. There’s no way I want that type of drama in my life.
Part of the reason he captivated me is because he communicates maturely. Trust me, some of my conversations aren’t easy to have. I sometimes forget the male ego has a stake in the space. Yet, he’s open to hearing what I have to say, regurgitating my point of view, and shedding light on how he interprets it. Ultimately, we leave the conversation with an understanding on each other’s stance and a goal on how to proceed.
Our most recent conversation was about us dating in a gray area. Essentially, we love each other, but I’m not ready to settle into a traditional relationship. He’s all the way ready. But, I don’t want to give up any of my freedom at this time. He understands that I am in the process of healing from two broken marriages and trying to maintain as much “control” over my life as I can. It’s a difficult pill for him to swallow sometimes, but he does. And he makes it clear that I may not have “all of him” in this capacity forever. I get it. I respect it. We communicate openly, and in the process we set boundaries while building a strong communicative foundation.
There’s something very handsome about a man that holds a good amount of confidence in who he is and what he has to offer.
There’s a certain amount of “firmness” that he possesses that totally sweeps me off of my feet. He lost his mom at the age of 15. The experience made him even-keeled. He’s unapologetic in his decisions, yet he’s very loving in his approach.
If you can master satisfying your partner in the bedroom, you can master almost anything.
I never realized how unfulfilling sex could be until I got pregnant. That’s when everything went downhill (due to complications) and I started missing out on the joys of cunnilingus and frequency. Once I entered the dating scene, I realized that a great deal of men do not understand the way a woman’s body works, nor do they take the time to care. Some men believe that a woman gets turned on by giving him fellatio. That’s so not the case. Mental and physical foreplay are required to get her aroused.
I love this guy because he takes his time with me. He rubs on me, smacks my ass, and most of all…eats! When we are in our intimate moments, he makes sure that he strokes with his hips, in varying angles, and at various speeds. Nearly every time, I have tapped out multiple times. And, because he makes my experience so pleasurable, I go down on him with eagerness!
Accepting people for what they bring to the table is a highly attractive trait.
He is ready to accept me and everything I bring to the table. He has no kids, but he has accepted my son as part of the package deal. He accepts the relationship I have with my son’s father and he’s ready to take on all that comes with it. When I vent about my son’s father (which is rare) he listens without bias and reminds me that we will both make the best decision for our son.
This is important for me, because my son is my world. My relationship with my son’s father is close knit. Whomever steps foot in my life will need to be strong enough to share that space and take a seat at the table in certain situations.
Oh and he accepts the fact that I cannot have any more children, even though he was on the fence about wanting children of his own one day.
When you are interested in someone, you invest time and attention toward them.
My guy has ultimately shattered my glass barriers by showing me time and attention. He knows my monthly cycle and he takes that in consideration when making plans for trips or sleepovers.
He knows my vices and so much more without me saying a word. He pays attention to my movements, my words, my vibe.
There is nothing more relaxing than hanging with someone that needs you for nothing.
I am completely relaxed when it comes to him. I do for him because I want to, not because he needs me. Vice versa. There’s something beautiful about a man that offers everything I can offer in return. Our lives are not complete by coming together…it is magnified beyond measure.
Who knows what the future holds. I am a firm believer that everyone and everything has a season. But right now, he’s the man that captivates my soul and makes me answer “Yes” to the question “Could I do this…again!?”
I can tell you how to exit your marriage with your head held high. No problem, I’ve done it – twice! I can walk you through the process of purchasing a home with little money down and also provide you with tips on how to furnish within a week. I’ve done that too! I can show you how to start a business, which includes obtaining an EIN and building a website. Hell, I can even show you how to format your resume and provide you with interviewing tips that will help you land the job.
But I can’t teach you how to remain positive when the devil tells you that you don’t measure up in your craft and that you aren’t good enough for people.
Two months ago, I purchased my condo. I’d been waiting to move on my own for nearly two years. I envisioned it daily, fantasizing on what I’d do and how peaceful I’d be. Well, peace does surround me, but loneliness lives there too, especially at night. My son is there for a few hours after school Monday-Friday before retiring at his dad’s for the night. Then, it’s me, the TV, my phone, and porn. Oh and my plastic papito that helps me get through the latter.
After seven years of living with a homebody, I enjoy walking around unclothed, breathing all of the air I can without sharing. I bask in my own energy. I set the mood! It’s mine! But lately, I find that I need to stay busy so my mind isn’t idle.
Before I moved, I thought my fun would come from dating and meeting new people. And yes, I’ve been on a date or two since I’ve been on my own. (Sadly, one of them I paid for because I have control issues.) I also flirted with a guy or two to prove that I can bring the single lady out whenever I want. A few weeks ago, I even put on a sexy dress and went to a Latin club where I allowed someone to buy me a drink (a first-ever for my Ms. Independent ass).
Yet, the truth is, the most fun I’ve had has been when I’m with my kid. He and I go skating every Friday night. He skates like he dances – no rhythm and lots of jerking motion. But I admire how he bravely (and confidently) falls as he barely makes it around the rink. His moves are so bad that the rink refs and experienced skaters reach for his hand. He ignores every request. I smile and shake my head. He’s my uncoordinated little man!
On Saturdays, he’s famous for waking me up around 4:45 a.m., even though we don’t get home from skating until close to midnight.
“Stop waking me up!” I fuss.
“It’s too dark in my room,” he mumbles before slowly backing into the hallway.
Fifteen minutes later he re-emerges and asks, “Mommy, can I just ask one question?”
“Are you going to sleep all day?”
“Either go back to sleep or watch TV. I SAID, STOP WAKING ME UP!”
Around 8 a.m., I cook him scrambled eggs, sausage or bacon, and dab some apple sauce on a plate. I normally get back in bed for a few minutes, scrolling through my phone looking for anything entertaining – usually nothing emerges. A little later, I take my son to either a nearby event, skating, bowling, or the movies. Between 4 p.m. and 6 p.m., I take him to his dad’s so I can enjoy the rest of my weekend.
Last weekend, no one was available last minute, so I decided to do something solo. I saw Mike Epps was doing a comedy show in the area for a Netflix special set to air in March. I purchased myself a ticket in the second row! In theory, this was a good idea, but in reality, I felt awkward as I noticed couples and friends joined at the hip. There I was, looking powerful on the outside but feeling quite lonely.
Sundays are my day to either make boss moves or be extremely lazy. Most times, I binge on Bob’s Burgers, try to learn new moves at the skating rink, or build courses for the Sixth Sense Publishing brand.
The Not So Fun
So while I’ve ditched an unwanted relationship, picked myself up, and have begun to establish a healthy routine, the devil whispers to me every now and then. Despite having friends who offer to visit and a guy friend who offers to dust me off, I sometimes get trapped in the things that I don’t have.
I’m trying to build an empire. I want to make business moves, elevate to new heights, meet new people, and re-establish the hustle that I gave up seven years ago. Yet, most of the people in my circle are complacent in life. They like their 9-5’s and enjoy their weekends. When I talk about my next project or venture, they are genuinely happy, but they can’t quite provide the input I need to reach new heights. Just recently, I told a very good friend about two courses I’m creating and she responded in concern about the security of my 9-5 job. I was offended. How do I thrive in an environment where I touch the ceiling?
Though I mentioned that I’ve been on a few dates and flirted a few times, I want to be in love. A friend once asked, “but didn’t you just get out of a marriage?” Yes…yes I did. But that was a sexless and unromantic marriage for years. We’d become roommates, living with a kid. Now that I’m officially single, I don’t want to be loveless and sexless anymore. Hell, I don’t even want a relationship. I just want to make beautiful intimate moments. And even though I have a guy who is willing to lay it down, I don’t want to lie down with someone I don’t love. So the devil whispers “if you were wanted, you would have a romantic connection lined up.”
Sure, I have a beautiful time with my kid. But, he sometimes give me high blood pressure. LOL I needed some adult intervention.
The other day, my parents took me out for an early birthday dinner. They told me how they admire me for making my own way in life without ever asking them for help. Since they know my complete history, they know I’ve made some pretty “erratic” moves. But they said I make it look effortless. I took a picture of their cards (below).
Also, the other day, I was telling one of my girlfriends that I was feeling down. Her response, “Listen, you are a badder woman than you are giving yourself credit for right now. Anyone that is connected to you should be grateful. Not many people can do what you did. You initiated an uncontested divorced, left everything with your ex, and started completely over. You are beautiful, smart, and you go for what you want. I am honored to call you my sister.”
Wow. While the devil whispered in my ear, God used the voices of others to speak to me. Keep pushing. It will come. Keep pushing! There is so much to be grateful for and the only person stopping me would be me…if I choose to give in to the devil.
Unfortunately, so many people get caught up in self-doubt that they can’t see what’s in front of them. If you are one of them, I encourage you to take a step back and look at everything around you. The things you are lacking may not be worth sweating because your world is actually bigger than you are acknowledging.
This time, the pace at which I dance is different. He and I bounce to new age hip hop and grind to the chopped and screwed version of our song titled “Beautiful Chaos.” The beat is too up-tempo for me; he leads and I clumsily follow. My heart races, my body aches, and I’m out of breath. No doubt, I am the amateur in this club – no matter how many times I follow him to the dance floor.
He enjoys hip hop much more than me. He’s awake but not annoyingly “woke.” Pride of who he is and what his people stand for is encoded in his swag. He mingles and vibes on a deeper level than me. But there’s so much more to him than hip hop.
He listens to understand, speaks to encourage, and adds a steadfast element to any group. Honestly, he’s an awesome person to know.
I wanted him from the moment I laid eyes on him, but the timing has been off. There’s a verse in Jay Z’s Lost One that resonates with me:
I don’t think it’s meant to be, But she loves her work more than she does me And honestly, at twenty three I would probably love my work more than I did she
So we ain’t we, it’s me and her ‘Cause what she prefers over me is work And that’s where we differ So I have to give her free time even if it hurts
So breathe, mami, it’s deserved You’ve been put on this earth To be all you can be, like the reserves And me? My time in the army, it’s served So I have to allow she, her time to serve
The time’s now for her, in time, she’ll mature And maybe we can be we again like we were Finally, my time’s too short to share And to ask her now, it ain’t fair So yeah, she lost one
Lose one, let go to get one Let one, lose some to win some Sorry, I’m a champion, sorry, I’m a champion You lost one
I absolutely relate to Jay Z’s ability to withhold showing his love for Bey until she experiences life. The muse behind this piece (also the inspiration behind The Dangerous Libra) hasn’t been married nor does he have kids. When we talk, he mentions he may want these experiences. I want him to have those experiences. Irony exists in this entire paragraph and now is not the time to explain.
J. Cole’s video titled Kevin’s Heart depicts Kevin Hart, the comedian, fleeing from the temptation of women. Something about that video strikes a cord with me. There’s a small part of me that feels like I’m chasing a dream. I told you, I’m not familiar with the hip hop tempo.
We have our moments; when we do, they are amazing! The other night we grooved to the R&B mix of our song “Beautiful Chaos.” The tempo was more my speed. Nearly eight hours passed, but it only felt like three. We ate, drank, toasted to life’s goodness, and pleasured each other. I shed a few tears while he was inside of me (I always wondered if I could do that). I held on to that moment and stored it in the back of my mind. It’s safe in that space.
You might not have heard of Usher’s song titled Tell Me. It doesn’t get its fair share of play. If I were to keep our situationship in my world, it would constantly reflect the message of the song: closeness, love, admiration. He didn’t just steal my heart, he snagged my soul. He’s imprinted in every thought, my every breath.
As beautiful as our situationship is and as euphoric as it feels, it’s torture. I played too many hearts and not enough spades, and I will be stuck trying to learn this new age hip hop if I cannot separate our beauty from our chaos. Except, I’m not quite sure I want to do that since there’s a lot of beauty embedded in our chaos.
Friend: “You are Nola Darling from [the Netflix series] She’s Gotta Have It. She’s a free-spirit that can’t commit to one lover. Most beautiful, she is unapologetic about who she is.”
Naturally, I had to see what the fuss was about and how I am portrayed around town. So I turned to Netflix to check it out for myself. If you haven’t seen the series, the official synopsis reads:
“Nola Darling struggles to stay true to herself and her dreams while juggling three lovers in this Spike Lee series based on his breakout film.“
It took me two days to complete the 10-part series. By the third episode, I high-fived Nola from across the room a few times. My friend was right, Nola and I share the same core.
Her Craft: Just like Nola, I vibe with my craft above all else. As I wrote in the piece titled Suck It, Disney, I am a writer, mother, and lover…in that order. When nights get lonely and the days are long, my work brings solace. Just like Nola, some of my best work was birthed during dark moments.
Her Openness: Nola is afraid of commitment. Possibly because there’s a smidgen of complacency within each commitment. Complacency scares me too; therefore, I struggle to find balance. I thrive in situations that I can act on impulse and intuition, simultaneously.
Her Lovers: Nola is energy-focused. She embraces the energy of those that captivate and cultivate her. Though I’m not in a position to vibe with various people, I completely understand her position. If I had not had my share of lovers, half of my portfolio would not exist.
She’s Gotta Have Itis inspiring. It proves that there is a shift in the atmosphere that encourages women to be unapologetic about their beauty, defiance, and intimate desires.
This morning, I watched On the Downlow, a YouTube docuseries by Abigail Child.
The series highlights stories from men (under age 40) who provide first-hand accounts of how they manage their secret relationships with men in public-facing arenas. As a straight woman, the program was both educational and alarming. Here’s why…
My brother is gay, I have four lesbian aunts (one is married and adopted a child with her spouse), two gay uncles, three gay cousins, and one bisexual cousin. My grandmother was a preacher, my grandfather a deacon. Nearly half of the gays and lesbians in my family stem from under that Pentecostal umbrella. My respect and understanding for the LGBTQ community comes from the members in my family who chose to stand in their truth, despite the backlash from society or the family. With that, they have my unwavering respect.
My reason for writing this post, is not to bash those who were featured in the docuseries. It’s just the opposite. I applaud them for being brave enough to show their face on an international level. It exposes the deceit that dwells in the underbelly of the downlow lifestyle. Also, their stories have the potential to help someone:
overcome their fear of coming out; or
gain respect for the LGBTQ community.
I know five people that are most likely on the downlow. Looking back, I had oral and sexual intercourse with at least three who showed signs of living a downlow life.
I get it. Religion and laws stigmatize any behavior that does not support procreation as deviant. But, I’m not sure I can classify attraction to another human being as deviance. I understand that stigmas can prevent someone from coming out. Society has not yet made it completely easy for the LGBTQ community to live according to their truth. With every turn, people spew hate, smear names, and stigmatize the LGBTQ lifestyle. It’s not right, and society’s nonacceptance is the reason the downlow exists. Therefore, I cannot be completely upset with those on the downlow. In many ways, I am empathetic toward them. But I can’t help but shake my head in frustration, (remember I’m surrounded by so many strong members of that community).
Though I don’t care about about one’s sexual preference, I do care about the unnecessary distractions it creates in friendships or relationships. There are signs.
I understand privacy and secrecy is a person’s prerogative. But, sexual orientation should be an open forum to every person you sleep with. Sex actually affects more than just YOU. Not only is the circle of life centered around sex, but so many exchanges occur during sex – emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually. It’s selfish to not share your real intentions or desires with people who share in that exchange with you.
We have to do better as a whole. Unprotected sex, knowing you engage in risky sexual behavior (with men or women), is deplorable. All downlow folk should join the highrise movement. There are a host of people waiting to stand with you, including me.
The day started off great. I left the office early because I’d been up since 2:30a.m. My plan was to come home and binge on The Office – Season 7 before taking a nap. That’s exactly what I did. Except, on my way home, I stopped at a vape shop and bought a vape kit. After I had my fill of Steve Carell and vape, I paused the television and closed my eyes. I had about an hour to kill before it was time to pick up my son.
I awoke from my nap refreshed. I was ready to give complete love and attention to the four-year-old that I waited to see all day. I grabbed my keys, started my car, and grooved to music as I drove down the street.
I felt euphoric as I approached the building. But when I stopped by the director’s office to sign him out, I knew things wouldn’t be so pleasant. My son stood next to the director with his head bowed. Tears stained his chunky cheeks. The director sat in her chair, solemn, but happy to see me. She turned to me and said, “He hit three staff members because he was denied swing access during outdoor playtime.”
We’ve been in this situation before. I couldn’t understand it. I stood in her doorway, looking at my son with frustration and I thought, “Lord, give me strength.”
Damn, three staff members? The scenario played humorously in my mind. This four-year-old walked to grown folk and whopped them one at a time. A whop for you. A whop for you. And you, come here, a whop for you!
Then the director tells me that he popped her too!
Lord, hurry on that strength!
I stood in her doorway in bewilderment. I cocked my head to the side and squinted my eyes a little. He bowed his head even further, his chin nearly touched the bottom of his chest. But I cannot fake as if I’m some sort of super mom, I allowed the director to continue to correct him.
I like being mommy, not parent. I’m normally the fun-loving parent that likes to keep her stress-o-meter at lower levels. I sort of envy mothers that can jump that scale so quickly. So in that moment, I wanted to tell her, “I’ll go back home and let my husband pick him up. You can tell him what happened.”
When we got home, we talked about what it means to be a nice person and he got a spanking. I made him call his father and tell him what he did. I didn’t allow him to watch TV nor play with his toys, which meant I was also banned from the television. We made small talk and ate with the radio playing softly in the background. Then, I gave him crayons and a coloring book until bedtime.
I just laid him down as I finished up this blog, but he’s fully aware that daddy is on his way home to dish out another lecture and spanking. In a few minutes, I’m going to vape and try to find a good movie on Netflix.
I have a dilemma. I fell in love – again. It’s complicated, more complicated than I care to admit. But keep reading, I’ll share in a bit.
Darius held the door for me one day. As I turned to thank him, magnetic energy tugged at my soul. Something within was resurrected. I tried to fight it. I printed pictures of my husband and son as reminders that I have a family. That didn’t help. The energy toward Darius intensified. My impetuous admiration for Darius was distinct, addictive, and inexplicable. Since 2011, I’ve come across hundreds – if not thousands – of people, turned down countless propositions (because your girl is bad!), and remained unbothered by everyone. So I was taken aback, way back, by Darius’ ability to penetrate my barrier.
Bathing in Darius’ energy is peaceful. He moves me on a soulular (yes, soul-ular) level. He’s beautiful, with good energy. He’s easy to talk with and realistic – though I am overwhelmed by his extreme stance on Black justice. Overall, Darius brings out the best in me. His energy is the reason I’ve started writing again. I’ve shared parts of my life that only he knows. It’s a beautiful, yet complicated, time in my life right now.
I don’t have to deal with nitpicking or naysaying. My husband does enough of that. With that said, I would not leave my husband to be with Darius. It’s not a “one or the other” situation. They both reside in their own space. If my husband and I falter, it’s due to our personal irreconcilable differences.
In recent months, I’ve explored various scientific and spiritual explanations as to how Darius could’ve captivated me so strongly. A common mantra rang throughout my quest for answers. There is no explanation. Shit happens!
I’ve learned that love is euphoric, yet it is unfair, unfavorable, and unapologetic. I’m no longer the hopeless romantic waiting for a prince. If I wasn’t married or a mother, I’d probably have a few men occupying my space and providing me with wonderful experiences. Yet, my desire for solitude is just as strong. The world is too complicated and too convoluted for fairytales to dilute my reality.
Darius recently told me that he can never love me. Allowing his heart to feel would be a prison sentence to someone like Darius. And that’s his right. As I said, love can be unfair and unequal. I’m okay with that, especially because I’m no stranger to this rodeo. Nevertheless, I confessed my love for Darius. He paused, then replied, “do you?” My response, a confident and fearless, “I do.”
It’s easy to see the beginning of something and much more difficult to see the end. Right now, I’m not sure what phase we are in, but it’s definitely not the beginning. Though, I often wish I could relive the days he openly gave a shit. I have given up on trying to get him to admit that I’ve stolen a piece of his heart or that something beautiful exists between us.
The stipulations that are placed on this affair are complex, but I respect them. I’m grateful that I can experience all that Darius offers. No matter how much I wish there was more to this story, Darius will forever hold a special place in my heart.
It’s human nature to be attracted to people. Society brings people together and we sometimes fall in love. Bada bing, bada boom.
At the end of the day, it’s all about love. We preach that there needs to be more love in the world. Yet, we put stipulations on how many people one can love romantically. One romantic interest at a time they say. I get it. But why does that have to be law? I stumbled across this man by happenstance and now I feel like a complete idiot, stuck in a world that won’t understand.
She slumps on the couch, feeling the effects of the pain medication she just prescribed herself. Her pain won’t be eased any more or any less from the pills, but she knows that it will force her to escape for a while.
Curiosity was heavy when they met. She grabbed his attention; he captured her heart.
Her innocence would be safe in the arms of a Virgo; but it’s dangerous in the hands of a Libra. A Libra’s charm knows no boundaries, he’s bound to capture the curiosity of plenty.
Now, he scares her. What the fuck has she gotten herself into?
Discussions around spirits and the universe are sure ways to grab my attention. My fascination with the unknown can be somewhat addictive.
I grew up believing that the universe was already whatever it was destined to be. That changed a few weeks ago, when I watched Cosmos: A Space Time Odyssey narrated by Neil deGrasse Tyson. Have you seen it? If you haven’t, I suggest you do. In the documentary, deGrasse Tyson explained that our universe is one of many universes, and that it’s always expanding! That means that our role in the universe could be constant, or changing (think deep). Continue Reading
I was born with a pen in my right hand and a notepad in the other! See, I’m naked without my pen; white space is my playground. The stroke of the keyboard tickles my soul. I didn’t decide to become a writer; I was born with this gift. Continue Reading
Walt Disney lied! Society and my family lied too. They each convinced the younger version of myself that I should:
Be treated like a princess, because I am one;
Find a prince to take care of me;
Marry no later than age twenty-four;
Carry children in my womb;
Sing around the house as I do chores and cater to my prince charming; and
Have my shit together by the time I’m thirty.
Neither has proven to be true. Though, it appeared my mother and grandmothers willfully held down their forte, I openly struggle. No part of the Disney model fits into my idea of success. Most disturbing, I’m five years removed from thirty and I’m more fucked up than I was at twenty-one. The twenty-one year old Beatrice had nothing standing in the way of her dreams. She was happy, carefree. The thirty-five year old Beatrice is a taboo ball of energy. I care more about my career than I do being married. And though I love my four-year old more than anyone on the planet, I stay at a level five on the stress-o-meter. Thus, the bane of my existence falls within the lies I’ve been force fed. I’ve learned there is no happily ever after, there’s only happy is what you make it. Suck it, Walt Disney!Continue Reading
The young girl weeps silently after being torn apart by the cruelty of her environment. With her back against the cold and barren wall, she quietly escapes to a place of nothingness. “Kill me and start ova,” she calls to the heavens begging for another chance at life. “No one cares anyway.”
Made to be different and special to only a few, the young girl’s heart is broken beyond repair. “They say I‟m hopeless,” she continues to cry. The surrounding air is pungent from the still damp basement furniture. “They say I’m hopeless,” she repeats quieter this time. Continue Reading
Parent-Teacher conference night is tonight. I’m nervous about my father’s presence but I know he’ll get involved as he does every year. When we arrive, we move to the back of the class so he can sit discretely away from the other parents. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to be center of attention as his body hangs from the sides of the chair/desk combination. Continue Reading
In the previous Calamities I helped you understand the calamities of a broken love affair. Today, I complete my mission and present you with the final piece of this sad story. But in the end, I promise you will see the good that arose from such a catastrophic scenario. Continue Reading
So the Calamity Part I spiraled into a web of Calamity Part II. I left the guy I spoke of in Part I to be alone with his shadows on the shore. I don’t regret my decision either. It was either fight his battles or hold on to the bit of dignity I had. I chose the latter. Continue Reading
Yesterday morning I noticed a homeless guy sitting on a bench. His duffel bag was cocked over the side of the arm rest and his head nearly fell in his lap as he slept his way through the passersby and loud engines.
As I approached him I was able to get a clearer picture of the frail old man. His shoes were worn, although his jeans were fairly in tact. Nothing but a sweatshirt protected him from the frigid weather, and his hands shriveled from the night before. His hat seemed to keep him warm, but who really knows how long he’d been out in this weather and if the night was really so kind. Right next to his duffel bag was a change jar, with a sign made out of cardboard “Need Food. Please help!” And even though he wasn’t ‘working’ the change jar at the moment, something tells me that he won’t mind if it working for him until he awakens. Continue Reading
Undressing her in his mind is perfectly okay. It’s the actual part of undressing that makes her uncomfortable. She runs from his embrace. Scared that the double rolls of fat will disrupt the flow he’s trying to create with his fingers. Somehow feeling that the way he envisions her in his mind will be distorted. Continue Reading
Fat girls need love too – at least that’s what momma told me once. I watched her waddle her weight around the yard picking roses as she sobbed over Mr. Freeman, the next door neighbor. Their affair lasted for two years after Mr. Freeman divorced his wife. Of course, momma was much smaller then. I’m not one to pry in grown folk business but when it comes to my momma, I can’t help but to pry just a little, even if I really don’t want to. Continue Reading
I’ve been caught in a technical twister that has captured my creativity. Who knows the last time I saw it. It may have been when I wrote my last piece, Calamity. That’s the last time I remember connecting with white space in ways that only an innate writer can do.
Without my creativity, I’m powerless. I might as well be stripped of my freedom; without expression I am like a rusty robot. I don’t function properly. My thoughts run into one another like raging bulls.
I’m uncertain when I’ll regain my sense of creativity but I hope it’s soon. Now I know what it feels like to be handicapped. I don’t like the feeling.
I want to yell at the keyboard to create something wonderful for me to read. But the cursor sits on the screen, blinking nonstop. The stroke of the keys is unfamiliar, turning a blind eye to my plea.
Oh white space and keyboard help me create something that the entire world would be amazed to read. Understand that my love for you has been overshadowed by my inability to show affection during this time. I’ve been stripped of my creative abilities by corporate and relationships. I see a break in their captive routine and I hope to break free soon.
Keyboard, I’d do anything to feel your endless stroke against my finger tips, and witness the birth of new life. That’s right. My thoughts + Your strokes = New Life.
I’m looking out of the window for a quick daydream getaway. But my travel is interrupted by a guy who sits in my line of sight and begins fiddling with a cigarette. He appears to be around 16, so I’m curious to watch his next move. Continue Reading
He directs the meeting and addresses the team in a very stern “I need productivity levels to increase.” His hands motion to the whiteboard canvassing our quarterly figures. “I don’t care how we get there, just do it!”
Nervous tension clouds the room. I glance at Lorien who raises her eyebrow as if to say “I told you.”
I nod and shift my attention back to Kirkland as he continues discussing our team’s expectations. My heart stops to open the treasure box that’s been buried deep down for the past few weeks. Our relationship is fresh, but strong! As he spoke, my eyes glazed over him like a honey baked ham. Continue Reading
A wise woman once told me that I should pay attention to a man’s actions more than his words. She said that a man does what he feels and speaks what he does not. I didn’t believe this was true. So the words of the wise woman fell heavily on deaf ears.
Time and time again I should’ve listened to her speak because the words of men led me on a path filled with bumps and bruises. A “marry me” here and a “I love you” there, were like beautiful words to a melody of a nameless song. I fell for the lure and even scorned the wise woman for thinking up such a lie.
But over time, I learned that it was the words of the men that turned in to sick fairytales. They didn’t love me at all; and most of them found it best to nestle in the bosom of their ex-lovers. Not even my marriage could escape the coldness of a liar’s den.
Confessions of heartless bastards ripped my heart in two. For once I considered that the wise woman was wise after all. So I continued my quest for love. But it wasn’t so easy.
The next man that came into my life showed me love, yet I was skeptical that it was real. Similar taunts about love plagued his past, I often wondered if the wise woman had spoken to him too. His silent feelings scared me; I felt he was running. But he lived under the motto, “It’s safer to show her but not tell her.”
Sadly, I needed his confession. I needed that reassurance and the hope that the wise woman’s words were somehow misplaced. Until he confessed, my heart remained weary and my mind was stuck in a place called the middle.
Ever had the unsettling feeling that your relationship wasn’t headed in the way that you hoped? Maybe you are one of the many who avoid relationships out of fear it will end like the countless others. If this sounds like you, then no worries! Continue Reading
Have you ever logged on to Facebook, MySpace or Twitter only to read that a former classmate has just revealed their most intimate secrets to the world? Your mouth drops slightly because you would’ve never expected such a thing to come from such a refined person.
In the world of social networking, we’ve all read things that should’ve been stored in a diary that’s held under lock and key. And too often, we are trapped in believing our thoughts are still suppressed from the world. Continue Reading
He stares out of the window watching the birds play in the bath because it’s his only comfort. He wishes that he could fly away with them. Friends have abandoned him over the years and his family has too. He wonders if the birds would be loyal to his supernatural ability.
A woman in a white coat approaches and hands him a pink tablet. “Take your medicine” she says as he growls at the thought of being drugged for most of the day. “It’ll help you think clearly” she reassured. But he knows different. It will only satisfy the staff and the others that call him crazy. He will sleep most of the day and feel groggy during the rest. His body once full of energy now drained because experimental medicines work against his natural self. Continue Reading
Seductively the shirtless man moves across the stage one foot in front of the other. His body flows effortlessly through the cloud of lust surrounding him. Muscles tight, abs right, and complexion DARK.
Meat and chocolate for the soul, I easily loose control in his tangled web. Continue Reading
I bet you had no clue that you first turned me out at dinner. I preyed on you as you slowly nibbled on your cheesecake. Slow and sensual your mouth moved around the spoon, leaving me yearning for a bite. Continue Reading
Seems like good fortune has found me. I don’t know where I was hiding all of this time, but for some reason the game of hide and seek is over between me and this good fortune character. I’m happy about it. I can’t complain.
On July 25th I wrote to a few famous authors, J. K. Rowling being the main one I wanted to write. Ironically her letter still sits on my computer, not printed. But I managed to write other authors and send their letters via the e-mail address listed on their websites. Not really expecting to hear anything back from any of them, I shoved the memory in the back of my mind. Way deep down so that I wouldn’t worry myself to death about getting a response.
Four days ago, I received a response from one of them! He’s a famous writer that has many awards for his talent. He said that I can shadow him the next time he comes to my area. WOW! And it made it even more appealing that he assured me that I was one of the very few that would ever get this invitation. I guess my letters really do have a way of telling a compelling story. 🙂
On my job, I referred someone and she was offered the position. I can expect a nice referral fee in my paycheck. Right now, I’m deciding how to spend my extra earnings. Do I pay off my car, stash it away, or spend it on a new wardrobe? Knowing me, I will begin paying off my car.
Last, I may have the opportunity to work from home two days a week. I’m in the works of pleading my case with my manager. I keep reminding him that everything I do at work can be done online at home. It would save me two hours each day in commuting. Hopefully good fortune doesn’t leave me too soon. I hope “he” stays a while and falls asleep on the couch.
His hand reaches out to me, but he’s too distant for me to touch. Steadily I weep as I struggle to meet him on common ground, but my perseverance has gone in vain. When he left for duty, a part of me knew there was a chance I wouldn’t see him again, and that our unborn daughter may never know her father. Despite the odds of him being killed, I somehow convinced myself that he would return. Patiently I waited while silently convincing our daughter that her father would be happy to see her. Continue Reading
Tap tap tap…the sound of the keyboard is loud in my mind, in reality the taps are far and few. I wanted to write all day, but I froze when the time came to play the melody in my head. I turn to LiveJournal to relieve the notion.
Where do I begin? Do I mention that I sent my book to a publishing company this morning? Do I go in to detail about my optimism or do I wait until I get a response? Hmmm.
Maybe I should mention that I spoke to the “handsome psychologist” on the phone a few times. And that although I wasn’t sure what to think the first time we spoke, our last conversation was actually quite intriguing. I admit, I am still intrigued.
Do I mention that I gained forty pounds in the last two years, thirty of them being in the past four months. Ugh. To top it off, I just ate an entire pizza, a few Doritos, and chocolate chip cookies.
So what to do now? Hmm. Still in the mood to write? Not so much.
I think I’m developing Carpal Tunnel syndrome. The pain associated with each twist and turn is horrifying, but I must type this message because writing is what I love to do. But don’t get it twisted, I love to write for me. I’m merely bored with the reports that I type at work.
Will my job believe me if I tell them that I can’t type anymore? Maybe I can go on short term disability? I wonder…hahah Would it be worth it so I can type another book? Hell yeah!
It was two years ago that I fell in love with J. I met him at his job so that he could drive us to the Cheesecake Factory. He looked so good that I could barely look him in the eye.
In the past two years, we’ve gone through ups and downs that have taught us a lot about how to be together. Last August we moved in with one another. It was one of the best moves (in my opinion) that I could’ve made in my life. I had the opportunity to interact with him on an intimate level and learn his ways before jumping into anything more serious, I guess.
For the past month he’s been sort of out of it. There were times that he’d go on the balcony and stare into space. I couldn’t seem to grab his attention a lot of those times. When I asked, he said he wasn’t the man he wishes to be. Eventually, he admitted that he needed to move out to get some space.
Today ended our two year affair. My heart aches because yet again I didn’t see this coming. But at the same time I’m sort of hopeful that if he’s not “the one,” then the door is open for “the one” to come. After all, I did mention in my earlier entry, From Kissed to Dissed, that I didn’t believe he was my forever.
I sit in our apartment and look at his things. A part of me wants to begin packing them and place them near the door, but it would only be out of spite. I don’t want any drama for either of us. It’s unnecessary. Life goes on.
Such a bittersweet moment in my life right now. I wish things would have been different.
So I submitted my work to my editor about two weeks ago. I’m really nervous about her response. I can’t imagine what I’d do if she told me that I’d have to make major changes. It’s my fourth rewrite! I think I’d tell her that I’d want to publish anyway because I think that there’s a good chance the copy will do well.
I’ve gone to a few famous author’s sites and read snippets of their first chapter. I’ve compared my work to theirs and believe that I accurately pinpointed my preferred style of writing.
It happened again last night. It hasn’t happened in quite some time, but last night he made his presence known. We met secretly in my dreams and although I can’t remember what my dream was about, I remember that he was telling me he was upset about something.
I feel that he and I are connected somehow spiritually until we are able to resolve this lingering cloud of doubt that hovers over us.
It’s weird because usually when I have a dream about him, he contacts me about something that same day. That’s just how it’s been for the past thirteen years. So we shall see what happens today. I may be wrong though. My connection with him isn’t as strong as it use to be. That may be a good thing. Who knows.
I’m on the fence with this one. I believe that we create our fate. For example, I want to write but does that mean that I was destined to be an author? Or does that mean that I should pursue my passion so that I can become an author?
So I am down to the final wire of this book I’m writing. I want it to be perfect, but of course if you are a true writer, you know that your work will never be perfect! So I’m just putting things down on paper until I do the revision. Hopefully if there are alternative ways to end the story, they will appear before I send it to print. I’m uber excited.
As someone raised with the influence of a successful marriage, but signed divorce papers in the parking lot of a nearby shopping center, I struggle to wrap my mind around this notion of marriage and happily ever after. I was born in the 80’s. My ideals of marriage come from two sources, teachings of my parents and Cinderella fantasies. I didn’t realize how out of touch I was with reality until my situation became prevalent. Continue Reading
So there was a guy that I met in 2003. He was thirty-three, I was twenty.
We spoke on the phone nonstop for a few weeks before actually dating. I asked him if he were ever married, he told me no. When I asked why, he said that his was very demanding and he couldn’t find someone that was willing to accept his hours. Continue Reading
A – appeasing
B – beautiful
C – corny
D – determined
E – eager
F – friend
G – go-getter
H – honest
I – indecisive
J – jolly
K – knotted
L – loving
M – motivated
N – notable
O – organized
P – patient
Q – quiet
R – ready
S – simple
T – tolerant
U – unique
V – virtuous
W – well-intentioned
Y – youthful
My biggest pet peeve is to hear someone “clank” their silverware against their plates. It’s really annoying! That includes someone banging a cooking utensil against a pot or pan to remove excess food!! Grrrrrrrr.
So 2008 wasn’t so bad after all. Granted it started out with a rocky twist, but in the end, and looking back, it was a pretty progressive year. One of the most progressive years to date. In that same breath, I believe that most of the country sees 2008 as a progressive year for them as well. Continue Reading
When I was younger, my mother would allow me to stay home for my birthday. Every year, she and I took the day off to spend time together. She reminded me that no one will enjoy my birthday as much as me. Continue Reading
If I won two tickets to anywhere, I would probably go on African and European guided tours. I would take the guy I’m dating. I don’t like traveling with female friends. It’s not like we can sleep together or kiss on the plane. lol So I’d definitely choose the guy I’m dating at the time to come along and enjoy the experience with me.
Ummm. Not sure of any ghost stories, but there are two movies that have scared the hell out of me – “E.T.” and “Blair Witch”. I used to watch E.T. all of the time when I was younger. Not sure how, or when I started fearing the little guy. Blair Witch scared me because I went in the movie theater with the mentality that it was a true story. 🙁
Nothing personal against J., but I’m frustrated that I haven’t dated a guy that’s financially sound since my ex, T. T. is a guy that I dated for three years when I was an 18-year old sophomore in college. He was 25. During that period, he paid for 90% of our daily activities. I didn’t have the money, but when I did, he’d only let me pay some of the time. Texas born and raised, his motto was “as a man, he should pay for his lady.” Continue Reading
LOL. Ooooh sounds juicy. An in-house crush! Well to be honest, I think that it’s more fun to keep it a secret. Just because your mind races for the unknown and fantasies begin to form. When you let the goose egg hatch (so to speak..I just made that up by the way lol), you are opening the arena to disappointment and doubt as you learn that person’s flaws. There’s a big risk that reality will be far more disappointing than the existing fantasy. Therefore, the time will go by at normal speed and your in-house crush will turn in to an in-house relationship. Just another “daily duty.”
I’m like Tigger, though a bit milder. Eeyore would depress me. He always has. But if we were stuck in an elevator, I’d enjoy Eeyore. He’d shut up and let me think of solutions or handle the problem. In essence, he’d give me time to think rationally. Someone more “Tigger” than me would cause me to go in to some kind of panic attack. lol
I’m almost ashamed to admit that my fashion sense is off. I never put a high priority on fashion or “what’s in.” At an early age, I’ve learned that fashion comes and goes…money doesn’t. So instead, I’d spend my money on other things that I would find useful.
With that said, I think that I’m sort of paying the price now. I have absolutely no idea how to accessorize an outfit. LOL It’s not a bad thing. But it’s sort of difficult for me to try to accomplish in the event that I want too. I think I have nice clothes, but I’m not quite sure sometimes how to match them (outside of jeans and a t-shirt). This is something that I hope I can become better at seeing as though I’m getting older. There is something sexy about a woman that dresses like a lady and is well put together. I want to be her! My biggest hassle is my work wardrobe.
The other day, I was in a meeting with some colleagues. I swear, one of the women blew me away with her outfit. The way she dressed said “I demand respect and pay.” Her outfit put my skirt and shirt to shame. I looked like a librarian…no – a college student working as a librarian as a summer job. I left the meeting saying to myself, “Wow – I’d love to learn her fashion sense.” The only problem is that I’m scared that to get the look I want, I’ll have to dish out a lot of money. Seeing as though I’m not materialistic, I place very little value on high end items. But maybe somehow, I’ll learn that there is a gray area.
Today, I came to work in what I thought was an okay outfit. I had on casual tennis shoes with the same color brown as my slacks, (I normally don’t wear tennis shoes, but my brown heels broke and I was too cheap to buy new ones), a pink sleeveless shirt with ruffles and a tan jacket. lol When I went outside I felt really weird. The image of the lady was in my mind. “Would she wear tennis shoes to work, or would she suck it up and buy new heels?” My thoughts leaned toward the latter.
So I went to Target during lunch, determined to adjust my look. I know that’s probably not the store I should be in for an established look, but it’s what I’m willing to do with my budget today. At any rate, I found a cream turtle neck to go under my tan jacket. I kept the brown slacks, and ended up getting some brown heels. I left Target satisfied of my “new look,” but sort of mad that the two items were a total of $69.
So I’ve told you snippets about the park I go to every night and run/jog/whatever.
Yesterday I went, more out of frustration, than determination. J. and I had a serious talk, and I wanted to sort of get away to clear my head. In the process, I thought that I would get in some exercise. Well that didn’t really happen. But here’s what did… Continue Reading
Before becoming vegetarian, I would eat veal. Since learning what it is, I realize that it was in fact the most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten.
I had no clue that veal is nothing more than a baby cow, taken from it’s mother and left in a storage pin, not big enough for it to move around and develop. From there, it’s basically left to grow deformed. Yuck.
I used to teach 8th grade in Prince George’s County, Maryland, and it was one of the most rewarding and demoralizing positions I’ve ever had to be in. My area was Reading Language Arts, a test-based area.
I love reading, and writing, and wanted to share my enthusiasm of that with children as I taught them. Nothing could have been further from the truth. I found myself deviating from the curriculum because it was a flawed mechanical way of teaching students. Many of the tests that were created by other teachers or the board contained wrong or conflicting answers. It was a surprise to me how incompetent the system was. It was really discouraging to know that I too, was once a student in the same system that I taught.
Besides the flawed methods of teaching, I learned that many of my students were going through more important and more challenging issues at home. I fought hard to try to get the board to see that. I wrote many letters requesting that Superintendent John Deasy visit our school, because it sickened me to see him on the news talking about how much better the schools systems were doing. Not once had he stepped foot in our school. My repeated requests fell on deaf ears and each time he was supposed to meet with some of our teachers, he cancelled.
Determined to make a difference, and to keep my sanity, I quit. Two years later, Deasy quits, after a total of 3 years of service. Maybe he was stressed too. Maybe Bush’s failed “No Child Left Behind Act” left him feeling “out of touch with reality” also. There is no way that anyone can teach in mechanical fashion, when each student is different. And when you teach in a test-based area, as I have, no room is left for you to address each student’s concerns. You have to keep moving because the tests dates will not change, and your student’s performance somehow reflects your grade as a teacher and the school’s grade compared to the rest of the state.
It was one big struggle. I’m shocked that Deasy stayed for as long as he did. I’m not shocked that he’s leaving. I had assistant principals and my principal back me up at the time. But they were sort of silent because I guess I was being considered a rebel. It’s sort of taboo for a teacher to express the realities of what’s going on. So at any rate, I’ll just share with you a video I made while I was teaching, as well as my resignation letter. In the process, I’ll try to find a letter I wrote to John Deasy, saved on the computer somewhere.
Maybe if you have children, especially in a public school, you will try to do more as a parent to get involved. Maybe you can help teachers make a difference in your child’s life. And if you are one of those parents already – a great big THANK YOU!
I want to somehow tell him that “I’m here.” Whenever he is ready, “I’m here.” It can be our secret – I’ll never tell. It’s something that I’d cherish and keep close to my soul. Just as I do with my thoughts.
It’s weird. I wouldn’t even want a relationship, just a night of lovemaking, and to talk over breakfast the next morning.
He’s my first love, and I’m sort of sad we never slept together. I guess it’s my curiosity that drives me. Maybe it’s my curiosity that keeps me bound to him, even after many years of separation (14 and counting…). Maybe somehow, just somehow, I feel that our chapter is not closed.
The questions of “how, why, and what,” leave me feeling incomplete. If I were to die today, my diaries would leave behind a legacy of pain and yearning for that one night. If he were to die, regret would plague me, and the “shoulda, coulda, woulda” scenarios would keep me mentally captivated.
I push my desires to the side because his family comes first. I dare not come between him and his happiness. So quiet I remain. Distant friends we shall be. And in the process, my life will move forward. Damn – that’s love.
The 21-year old male on the other end of the phone exclaims, “I’ve got something to tell you!”
“I’ve got something to tell you too!” I scream back in excitement.
“You first.” He insisted.
I seize the opportunity. “I’m engaged!”
“WHAT!” He yelled. Continue Reading
I’ve always had a cute face, and small waist, but never enjoyed looking below the belt line. My pear shaped body left me self conscious.
Just as I began to ‘even out’, the depo provera left me with sixty pounds of excess weight. Since loosing the weight, it’s been difficult to keep it off. I go back and forth with it at least once a year. Continue Reading
I believe that the essence of church is much more watered down than it was hundreds of years ago. It has become one of the biggest businesses in the United States – and so I believe it’s only fair that they are treated as one.
It happened again last night! It has been a while, but it happened!!!
I had a dream about him. He’s real. I just can’t touch him and my convo with him is limited. He only closely acknowledges me in my dreams. We never actually dated, so it’s really weird to me that I’d dream of him. The dreams often make me smile, I can’t lie about that. But it’s absolutely crazy, and not fair to the gentleman lying next to me. [smh lol] So I’ve learned to think of it as a cruel joke, or a secret meeting. lol Continue Reading
But let’s skip the part where I mention my failed marriage to a man that I had no business marrying in the first place. We can even fast forward through the difficulties that I’m having when it comes to dating. I’m not even interested in entertaining the subject of why I chose to wear my natural hair.
I want to talk about why it is you constantly look down on me. You act as though my life isn’t my own, but something you can mold. That’s not the case at all – and I’m here to tell you that nothing I do with this life pertains to you.
You think I don’t notice your face squinch whenever I give advice about marriage and relationships. You feel that somehow my advice is tainted? I want to remind you not to get too comfortable sistah – anyone at any time can warm my seat, and never forget it. And when you come sit on that bench, you will need someone who understands both sides fully.
My divorce made me that much more qualified to dip my hands into your life. I can tell you what is wrong and what is right. I need no imagination or practice because I’ve learned from my mistakes while walking your life and living another. So girlfriend, next time you want to tell me that “this is why you’re marriage didn’t last,” think again. I hold the answer to that and I am the one who can look at your future while you dwell on my past.
Don’t you dare make me believe that my standards are too high! Are you implying that I must lower my self respect or vision of real love in order to be satisfied? Sistah you have me twisted. When you have walked the miles that I’ve walked, then I will give you the opportunity to talk. But never look at me and selfishly give me bullshit advice. From one friend to another, you need to watch what you say. Because if the roles were reversed, I’d help you chase the bullshit away. So don’t make me feel as if I’m that desperate and don’t deserve a loving man’s hand.
You flare your nose at my natural beauty, and even try to convince me to get a perm in this luscious hair of mine. You’re so washed up in what society deems as beautiful that you’ve forgotten that natural beauty is a commodity. Damn a perm! I like my naps. I like the way my hair curls tightly and nestles on my head like soft sheep’s wool. It is cool to be like me, but you just don’t see cause your eyes are closed, your nose is high, and your mouth wide open. If only you’d try to get out of society’s deceit, you’d notice that you’re wrong and I’m right. My hair…your hair…our hair is heavenly. The next time you snub your nose just remember that I’m the one holding the precious gold – and the whole world envies me.