Tag Archive | Crazy Bitches

….and now, I got these Fucking Staples in the Back of My Head . . .

I have Mommy Issues. I knew I had them before, but after a 3 hour conversation with my Fiancé, I’m starting to realize they are coming to a head. These Mommy Issues are leading me down a path I never saw coming. Too much of the weight I’ve been carrying . . . seems to be shoving itself off of me. Except . . . Its coming out as Rage.

Blinding Rage. Unadulterated, All-Encompassing, Whole Body Consuming RAGE.

The 1st time I remember breaking something for the sole purpose of wanting to, I was maybe 8 or 9. I destroyed my entire bedroom, because I had been told I couldn’t do something. I lost a privilege because of my report card. It was something I had been looking forward to for MONTHS. But I got a C or D on my report card. That was evidently deserving of the loss of that Birthday Party.

Now, as an Adult, I understand that more than likely . . . my mother frequently used my report card {The Winter Quarter one, that always came out the weekend before Feb 4th} as a reason why things she had promised me, couldn’t happen or didn’t come to fruition. Because she couldn’t afford the things she promised me. Because she was POOR and struggling to raise me. The 8/9 year old in me, who was told that the ONLY acceptable thing to bring home was Perfection, didn’t know/understand that.

She internalized every one of those losses, as a testament to what happens when she wasn’t perfect. And suppressed that RAGE at having lost out on so many events, trips, parties. RAGE at being held to Impossible Standards. RAGE at seeing how Fucked up the Adults around me were, but not being able to express discontent with the Bullshit.

Breaking Dishes is my Favorite. Something about hearing glass shatter just . . . takes me there. But anything can be thrown. Any door can be slammed, any chair thrown. Anything will break, if you throw it enough. Something about completely destroying a room is so calming to me.

And That’s Fucked Up.

Recently, LIFE, had taken me to a Breaking Point and the only way I could respond was RAGE. Cuz once again, some White Woman had put my job in jeopardy because my “tone” made her feel uncomfortable. RAGE, because once again I had to delay something I wanted/needed to do because I didn’t have the Money to do it. RAGE, because why is it SOFA KING HARD to be an Adult!!!!

Why didn’t they tell us how to do this shit? Why am I, 41 Years old, and STRUGGLING right now?!?! All that damn lecturing about Education, and Holiness, and Organizational Skills . . . ya’ll couldn’t be honest about how HARD this shit was. Ya’ll couldn’t talk to your Got Damn Kids?!?! Be Real?!?!? Respect us as Adults. See us as Equals.

I can’t even use the same coping mechanisms YA’LL did. THAT’S WHY I’M FUCKED UP!! I know what having an alcoholic parent does to a kid. I know what having an emotionally detached parent does to a kid. If I didn’t see it growing up, I’ve seen it in my role as an Educator. RAGE at the fact that I can’t even numb the pain anymore because I have children of my own.

I have to be present after work. I have to wash dishes. I’m expected to do laundry weekly. I BE FUCKING TIRED. I don’t get to zone out, call my friends and gossip on the phone for the rest of the night, and leave my kid(s) to fend for themselves. I MISS talking on the phone with my friends. Everyone has a fully functioning LIFE now.

Breaking these generational curses means losing contact with the people you know who are trying to do the same thing.

I brought all that Rage into this New Life I’m trying to create for myself. Unknowingly . . . So Now, I got these fucking Staples in the back of my head, and a Broken Finger. CUZ I WAS FUCKING WILDIN’! But that’s another story.

This LOVE Shit…. it Ain’t Easy.

This LOVE Shit….it ain’t easy.

Sex and the City lied to ME. Sarah Jessica Parker didn’t show me real love. She showed me what the White FairyTale Love of the 90’s was…and I bought that shit Hook Line and Sinker. All them damn Sandra Brown, Judith McNaught, Nora Roberts, Danielle Steele books did NOT prepare me for This LOVE Shit.

My momma didn’t warn me. Honestly, I don’t think I ever saw my mother IN Love. Not the kinda LOVE I’m talking about. I’m talking about the UGLY Love. The Hurting Love. The Can We JUST Make It Work type of Love. My momma didn’t tell me about that. I had absolutely no point of reference.

This LOVE Shit…..it Ain’t Easy.

The continuous effort that LOVE takes….the moments you realize you have to GENUINELY be honest about yourself with another person. You have to LOVE another person, even when you can’t believe they think you are worthy of their love. You ever doubted your partner, because they weren’t willing to give up on you. You ever thought, “Why the Fuck are they still here?!?!” I’m HORRIBLE, how could they possibly still love me?!?!? “

Real LOVE makes you admit to all the things you HATE about yourself. Those things you’ve hidden from the world because you are constantly judging yourself. This LOVE Shit makes you stop listening to your inner voice, and focus on something other than your flaws. And who the FUCK is ready to do that?!?!?!

This LOVE Shit….it Ain’t Easy.

Real LOVE is gonna make some relationships in your life change or disappear. Some people don’t like the real LOVE version of you. They liked you better when you were complaining that you couldn’t find it. Real LOVE will help you find out who is really down for you….the HARD WAY.

Cuz in those moments of fear/doubt/despair, when you call those friends you’ve always called when Shit gets Weird…some of them might tell you to give up. Some of them might tell you what they REALLY think about the Person You LOVE. Some of them friends don’t want you to stay in LOVE….cuz that means you don’t need them anymore.

#LifeLesson Make sure you have a REAL support system, that’s down for YOUR love. Not the version they believe in, or the version they’ve always seen for you. You need Friends that will make you FIGHT for your LOVE. You need friends that are almost as invested in your LOVE as you are. Some of these folks you thought would love you regardless of your situation…DON’T.

Cuz once you have found a REAL Love, you can feel the difference in those “friendships”. When the moment of crisis is over, and you are trying to go on with your LOVE, how do they treat you? How do they refer to your LOVE? Do they like to constantly remind of your partner’s mistakes? Do they always have a reason to dislike them? Them. Ain’t. Yo. Real. Friends.

Them friends that will tell you when YOU are tripping, that will make sure they hear BOTH sides of the story, and help you fix it. Those are the ones you need. The one’s that will come over to the crib to mediate conversations . . . the ones who will text/call/message your Partner if they think shit needs to get right . . . Them. Yo. Real. Friends.

This LOVE Shit….it Ain’t Easy.

You have to GET OVER yourself, for another person. You have to GIVE A FUCK about another person. Not just in passing, not just because…. One day you just decide/feel/accept that this person is the ONLY person who deserves to be loved with your FULL self. Your TRUE self, the self you see when you Daydream about living your Best Life. You have to tear down the Survival Walls you’ve built in order to function in this horrible world.

I’m talking about Life Partner kind of LOVE. Once Ya’ll have both decided, “Welp, I don’t want nobody else but you.” The understanding that you both want to move forward, navigating life TOGETHER. When you realize that LOVE isn’t- “Do You Boo Boo!” – but let’s have a logical discussion before major life decisions.

This LOVE Shit….it Ain’t Easy.

Being raised by a Strong Independent Single Black Mother, I wasn’t taught how to share myself with another person. I was taught to survive, and take care of myself. This LOVE shit requires you to THRIVE. You can’t be in REAL LOVE, in a true Partnership, and feel like you can barely make it. This LOVE shit don’t work like that. You gotta give a fuck about them, even when you hate them. You gotta always try to fix the problem. You can’t just say, FUCK YOU, and move on. You have to TRY. You have to be HUMBLE, and Vulnerable like ALL THE TIME.

You have to TRUST somebody, if y’all are in real LOVE. Even when your Every instinct is preparing you to defend yourself against any words/gestures/movements/actions you view as an attack. And EVERYTHING feels like an attack, or that your partner is disappointed in you because of something you did/said/thought/felt.

You gotta let go of all the plans you’ve formulated for yourself…and start creating plans for US. Being an active part of an US is CRAZY! Did you know, I’ve lived my whole life like the world revolves around me? That’s how I was raised!! Now you want me to like….not care about myself more than everyone else?!?!

This LOVE Shit . . . it Ain’t Easy

Why didn’t they tell us this? Maybe they told y’all about it. But didn’t NOBODY tell me how hard This LOVE Shit was. Creating a space where you and another person can feel safe….even when almost EVERY event/person/relationship/family member has made you both feel unsafe and violated and unLoved.

I’ve said all this….because I just didn’t know what LOVE really is. I wasn’t prepared for this thing to rule my world like it does. When This LOVE Shit isn’t working…my whole body is off. I don’t eat or sleep. I feel unsettled. I worry and fret… I spend hours trying to come up with solutions to whatever problems are going on. LOVE makes me have to put in work. Because even though This Love Shit is HARD…

It’s the Greatest Thing to EVER Happen to me.

I’m so #Grateful that LOVE found me. {That Blog is coming too}

I just needed to put this into words, for all my friends who’ve felt/said/thought the same thing. You are NOT Alone. This 2022 Type of LOVE ain’t easy…..but it’s Worth It. Keep Fighting for it. Don’t Give Up. You Deserve It. You are Worth It.

So is This LOVE Shit.

I’mma Keep Runnin . . . Or My Fan-Girl Reaction to Lemonade

Your. Fave. Could. Never.  That’s the first thing you need to know.  I don’t care who your Fave is. They could NEVER be Beyonce.  Not ever in life. Not with training, not by drinking her bath water.  Not by living with her for 10 years.  YOUR FAVE COULD NEVER.  {YFCN}

Now that I’ve got that out of the way, Lets Talk about Lemonade.

beyonce-lemonade-video-trailer

Lemonade is a visual representation of the Black Woman Struggle.  It’s every part of a Black Woman’s life.  The Lies, the Love, the Tears, the Anger, the Jealously, the Shame, the Ugliness, the Beauty, but most of all . . . The Pride.  If you finish watching Lemonade, and don’t feel like a Proud Black Woman . . . you did it wrong.  Start all over again. I don’t care if you’re Asian, you should feel like a Proud and Strong Black Woman at the end.

BAAAAABY.  Beyonce said, “Keep Trying ME.” The Visuals, the spoken word (shouts to Warsan Shire) the music.  Every track is immaculate.  Yes, I am fan-girling the FUCK outta this album. Thank you to Tidal for this, because . . . yes.  I have to go Track by Track.  That’s really the only it can be done.

Pray that you catch me

1) Pray That You Catch Me

Ever KNEW your man was cheating.  Every sign pointed to him being an Ain’t Shit Type of Nigga, but you wanted to hold on to the part of you that feels like you can’t get played.  That’s this song.  She knows he’s cheating, she is praying that he knows that she knows.  While watching this with my Twitter Family, we were all like . . . hold on wait?!?! Is this about Jay? This is actually my least favorite song on this album. Not because it’s not good . . . they just all get consistently better.
hold up

2) Hold Up

Beyonce was walking down the the street, with a bat.  In wit’ dem micros flowing free.  All types of Bey from Destiny’s Child.  Like . . . everything.  Her in that yellow, smashing windows and breaking shit. She’s my Angry Black Girl Hero. Then she had the nerve to drive over all them cars with a Big Ass Truck.  Look Here, Don’t fuck with Beyonce. She is crazy.  And I LOVE it.

 

Don't Hurt Yourself

3) Don’t Hurt Yourself feat. Jack White

Angry Beyonce who curses is so much of the things. First, Jack White?!?!? Your Fave Could Never. Lets talk about these lyrics tho . . .

Who the Fuck Do you I am?

You ain’t married to no Average Bitch Boy!

You gone watch my fat ass twist boy, 

As I bounce to the next Dick Boy. 

Again, all of Twitter was like wait . . . what did Jay do to her?  Do we gotta hate him now? Is we fighting him in the face? Cuz why is Bey this mad?!?! At this point, Jay’s twitter mentions were in SHAMBLES. Men and women were like “Jay, I mean we can’t even help you out.  You done fucked up now.”

i ain't sorry

4) Sorry

Then she showed up with all her girls, in a bus. Throwing up middle fingers, and saying, “Fuck em’ Girl, Fuck Em'” AND had Serena Williams twerking in a video! But once again, them lyrics.   I have to admit, I was more than a little concerned at this point.  Cuz ummmmm, again, why is she so mad?!?

I love this Beyonce, not afraid to curse, to be real about her life (maybe) and talking about all the facets of her relationship (maybe). Best Line of the Song . . . “He betta call Becky wit tha Good Hair.” Bish WHET?!?!? Now we gotta be mad at any bish named Becky?!?!?

6 inch

5) 6 Inch feat. The Weeknd

Just . . . yes.  I’ve been waiting for this collaboration.  I can’t even tell you what this song is about {honestly, I think it’s about a working girl who wears 6 Inch Heels}.  I got caught up in the sampling of Walk On By by Isaac Hayes.  That guitar riff.  EVERYTHING. Seriously Guys, at this point I was just so much in my feelings at the beauty of the visuals. I had to stop tweeting, and just breathe.

daddy lessons

6) Daddy Lessons

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS Come Through with this Country Song. She said, “Hey Taylor Swift . . . fuck you.” And she started it with Zydeco music.  This visuals for this one were beautiful.  You get this home movie with Beyonce and her Dad which then switched into a video of Blue Ivy and Matthew.  At this point, I think we all breathe a sigh of relief, maybe it was about Matthew and Tina, and not Jay and B.  Okay, maybe that was just me.  Either way. I was able to deal a little bit better.

Love Drought7) Love Drought

At this point, the visuals changed, and along with them the message (at least for me)  From talking about Self, to the purity of having your sister’s behind you.  To having women in your life you can build you up when you are down. These women, in white in a river, gives me this feeling of being cleansed and washing off all the weight of the past.

Sand castles

8) Sandcastles

At this point, I started crying. Because . . . OH MY GOOD SAWEET LORD! It came out that Prince said in an interview, that Beyonce needed to learn to play the piano, it would take her to another level. Like . . . . Seriously.  I’m tearing up right now remembering that clip.  Because This whole WEEK has been shitty. I still haven’t processed the loss of Prince.  It felt like he was saying . . . “If they listen, I will guide them.” Plus, the VISUALS. Jay-Z at his most vulnerable.  With his hand on her ankle, laying in bed just basking in her. Sitting there holding her. Y’all #GOALS.

Black Moms

9) Forward

AGAIN, TEARS. This whole montage of Black Mothers and Children, in PAIN because of their loss at the hands others.  The PAIN in Mike Brown’s mother’s eyes . . . I lost it. These mothers, who raised beautiful Black Men, only to lose them in such a violent way.

Don’t ever say Beyonce doesn’t care about her people, don’t ever say she doesn’t understand or know the plight of her people.  Don’t Ever Say Beyonce isn’t WOKE.  She’s 6 Liters of Monster Energy Drink and 18 Cups of Coffee type WOKE. She doesn’t even have to set alarm clocks, she just wakes up on her own.  

Again, Your Fave Could Never.

Freedom

10) Freedom feat. Kendrick Lamar

Hands down my favorite song on the album.  The message of Black Power, of Black Female Empowerment, of Black Beauty coming in every shade, size (maybe), and age.

Freedom, Freedom I Can’t Move!

Freedom Cut Me Loose!

Freedom, Freedom Where are you?

Cuz I need Freedom too!

I break chains all by myself, won’t let my Freedom rot in Hell,

Im’ma Keep Running cuz a Winner don’t Quit on themselves!

black girls are awesome

Lets talk about this Visual.  You got Zendaya, Chloe and Hallie, and Amandla Stenberg. {Judge me not, I don’t know who the other girls are} Like, WHAT?!?!?

Beyonce called people and was like, “Look, I need you to come sit.  You don’t have a speaking part, I just need you to sit on some stuff.  There may be chairs, steps, perhaps a tree? You Down?” 

And EVERYONE SAID YES. Cuz at this point in life, you don’t say no to Beyonce.  You just Don’t. Can we also discuss Michaela Deprince and her ballet.  Yes Chile’ get it.  Beyonce is here for all the little black girls with a dream.
blue feeding Jay

11) All Night Long

At this point, I was so drenched in Love, and Black Pride, and happiness.  And then we get Family Home Videos?!?! Beyonce pregnant, do you SEE how cute Blue Ivy was as a baby! It’s just so much of all the things I needed today. The home movies, plus the beautiful pictures of all kinds of love.  Black Love, and Queer Love, and Interracial Love, and Young Love, and Old Love.  Tina and Richard! Come on now! So Damn Beautiful.

formation

12) Formation

Look here, she didn’t even have this in the Visual Album.  That’s how much she knew we didn’t even need this again.  What she had just given us was MORE than enough.  We thought Formation was the beginning of the Movement, and it was the Culmination of the Journey. 

Beyonce

Look, I’ve been an admitted fan of Beyonce since I Am Sasha Fierce. But Lemonade is everything I’ve been trying to tell everyone Beyonce could and can be.  This was like a therapy session, FOR FREE.  Twin said, “This should have been called Daddy issues Part 1,” and she ain’t eva lied.

She talked about generational curses, and the WORK it takes to break free of them, as well as the power that comes to women when they finally break free. I’m not really sure what I expected this to be. But I can tell you what it ended up being for me.

Magic.  

Black Girls are Magic.  Black Girls can do and be whatever the hell we want to be. Beyonce is the most magical Black Girl some people have ever seen.  Beyonce’s Magic appears to be effortless, even as she shows us all her flaws.  As I’m sitting here, watching Lemonade from the beginning on my phone {because it just feels more intimate} I am in Awe of what Beyonce has become. As well as excited for where she is going to take us next.

Also, YOUR FAVE COULD NEVER. 

Thanks for taking this journey with me.  How did Lemonade change YOUR life? Feel free to share.

Soooooooooo, Here’s the Thing…

 
*For the purposes of this blog, the following definitions must be stated*

Choice: the opportunity or power to choose between two or more possibilities : the opportunity or power to make a decision

Validate: to recognize, establish, or illustrate the worthiness or legitimacy of {something}

Suffer: to become worse because of being badly affected by something

While in the process of writing this book – thanks to a challenge from my sisfer Erin – I’ve been looking over lots of my old writings. Sometimes, I’ve shared with people the stuff I’ve found.  I am, in a very real sense, a digital hoarder.  I save most emails, AIM/Yahoe Conversations, even drafts of text messages I never sent.  I pay for Handcent Premium so I can save my text messages in the event I have to get a new phone.  It’s a serious issue.

Since I started using MySpace to blog, I’ve made a very conscious decision to save things I felt mattered to me.  Or would mean something in the future.  95% of the time I was actually correct.  I’m tell you all this because after spending all this time looking at my past – and trying to figure out why I make certain life choices – I’ve come to several decisions/conclusions/realizations.  These are some, not all. The list is actually quite extensive.

1) With Adulthood, Comes Censorship

I used to curse all the time.  Every other word was shit or damn or fuck. It was in my every day vernacular, and I didn’t care how it affected anyone around me.  I wish I still felt it was okay to speak that way.  It’s easier when you aren’t thinking about the ramifications of your actions/words.  I wrote whole blogs about how much I hated people and their actions.  I even used full government names.  I so didn’t care.

July 2009, I got my first professional job. People could Google me… I was on the first page.  I locked my Twitter Account, made my FB unsearchable, and never used my name on this blog.  People were looking to me for a very specific kind of thing, and them searching my name and finding Save a Horse – Ride a Big Girl wasn’t exactly what I needed to happen.  My blogs become much more broad, and lacked lots of personal details.  In real life, I was still expressing myself. I just chose to do it a different way.

It should be noted, I’m tired of censoring myself. This means, I’m not going to spare your feelings if you have hurt mine. I’ve always been an asshole, I had just started to be more tactful when I said asshole things. That’s gone.

2) Accountability is a thing now . . . 

Another major change in my life is my current job.  The fact that it saved me notwithstanding, it’s taught me what it means to be fully accountable for the choices you make.  Good/Bad/Indifferent you control your life.  No other human being can make you do anything, without you at one point giving them permission to do so. *DV/SA/Trauma Situations excluded of course*

Even if you are traumatized by something that happens in your life, it’s your CHOICE to wallow and suffer afterward.  Everyone has the right to recover, process, and deal with our lives.  Suffering is a CHOICE. Stop blaming shit on your friends, and your parents, and your ex-boyfriend. You made a choice to drink that night, you made a choice to borrow that money for the loan, you made a choice to stay with him/her after they cheated.

I don’t do Victims anymore.  Because I am NOT one. So we can talk and make a plan about how you are going to deal with your issues, but I will NOT help you be sad/mad/angry/sad ever again.

3) Own Your Shit

Right along with #2, stop trying to seek validation from other people for your choices. “It was just weighing down on me, I had to say something.” What the FUCK for?!?!?  I didn’t want that guilt, it’s not mine to have.  Why must you spread the shit that’s killing you inside? That’s like making Cancer an airborne disease.  Do we do that now? If whatever it is you “need” to tell me isn’t going to make me money, or save my life . . . Please keep that shit to yourself.

Yesterday, I had an existential life crisis about my past relationships and their functionality {or rather, that they only served one function}. I was emo all day. But I dealt with it.  That’s what the FUCK adults do.  You can’t be 32 damn years old, blaming other people for your body count. You just can’t. I had to come to the realization that I was judging myself, based on society’s views of where I should be at this point in my life. FUCK Society tho. She’s a dirty foul whore, who can’t make up her mind.

4) Set Your Own Rules

Live your life the way YOU want to live it. Not the way your parents told you to, not the way your friends think you should, not the way you were taught to in catholic school. Rules are put into place as a guideline, not to be shackles to stop you from being happy.  When you start feeling bad for a CHOICE you’ve made, ask yourself the following questions:

1) Am I Hurting anyone in a way they won’t be able to recover?
1a) If I am hurting someone, does this mean I will lose this relationship and/or can I deal with the loss of it?
2) Am I making this choice to please someone else, or myself?
2a) If I am making this decision to please someone else, is this going to change my life in a positive or a negative way?
3) Am I seeking Validation for this choice?
3a) If I am seeking Validation, is it to be absolved of guilt about this choice?

Live your life on your own terms.  The same people we frequently seek approval from, aren’t doing the same thing when it comes to us.  People make choices that affect our lives everyday, and they didn’t and/or don’t care how you feel about it. As callous as that sounds, it’s very true. I’m not here to validate you.  I’m not here to save you from your bad decision, or the regret you have because of it. I do that everyday at work.  I have taken off my cape, please react accordingly.

5) Trust is Earned, Not Given

I don’t lie. I may omit some truths when meeting people, but, more than likely, if asked I will tell the truth.  For the majority of my life, I thought everyone did the same thing.  The realization that people don’t think like me, and/or live their life with that same philosophy was mind-blowing {only child syndrome}.  It should be noted and acknowledged, as I jump with both feet into the puddle that is my 30’s, I don’t trust you.

Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie until you prove otherwise.  I’ve seen/heard people lie on and about me to my face in the last few years.  Sometimes people are so used to lying, they forget it’s a lie.  That is their CHOICE. I get to make choices too, and I choose to think everyone is a liar.

Call me jaded, hurt, bitter, etc. I’m okay with that. Because I’m right.

As of right now, I can count the people in my Circle of Trust on 2 hands, and one foot. I’m over giving people an elevated position in my life, and they aren’t living up to it.  Instead of calling them and whining about it, I just made the cut. So That Happened.

*Trust no one who hasn’t earned your trust.
*You only know what people allow you to know.
*Judge yourself by your standards only.
Thank God for granting me this moment of clarity.

Thanks For Reading!

…And I Still, Haven’t Found, What I’m Looking For…

I love that song.  It’s something I play when I am going through a White Girl Angst type moment.  The message is, I’m still searching.  Even after everything I have been through, I’m still looking for that one thing to make every thing make sense.  Today’s blog is inspired by a late night convo with a frat brother of mine, and his requirements for his next relationship.  

The word he kept repeating over and over was Friend. “I want someone who wants to be friends first, then we can move on to something else.”  This statement prompted several very probing questions on my end {Yes, I’m Nosy} and made me think about Relationship Expectations from a Male Point of View.

I’ve already talked about Lowered Expectations vs. Having Standards when it comes to women looking for their perfect mate.  I hope by now, anyone reading my blog understands I don’t believe the perfect relationship exists. You can BUILD the perfect relationship for the TWO people involved, but you almost never just fall into something perfect for you.  In accepting this, you are committing to work to create the Perfect Relationship for You. If that commitment isn’t honored the relationship usually falls apart.

Some of the reasons relationships fall apart over time are listed here, here, and here. {Please peruse at your leisure} However,  those aren’t the only reasons some relationships don’t work out.  It’s mainly lack of communication and/or insecurities.  This comes from both sides.  Most times, women have a VERY specific and detailed idea of what they want in a significant other, & they aren’t afraid to tell anyone who will listen . . . except their partner.  On the other hand, men have absolutely no idea what they want, until they have to sit down and figure it out.

I’ve found that most of my male friends aren’t vocal about what they want, what bothers them, what turns them on, their pet peeves . . . things that most women would benefit from knowing at the start of a relationship.  Insecurities will cause people to be silent in their relationship because they don’t want to say the wrong thing, or ask for the wrong thing, or make it seem like they are complaining.

So it’s time to call out the men, who know what they want . .. but don’t tell us.

First Up: What Defines a Friend

According to Merriam-Websters Dictionary, a friend is:

friend

: a person who you like and enjoy being with

: a person who helps or supports someone or something (such as a cause or charity)

How do you feel about that definition men? This could be the beginning of a good relationship.  Someone supportive and you enjoy being with.  Quite simple, but then you stick your wiener in them, and everything’s different.  That’s when the questions happen, at least on her part. Things come up in conversation like, ” How far does this friendship go? or “Are we still friends if we’re sleeping with each other? or “Are we still just friends if I know your whole family?” or ” Are we still just friends if we indulge in PDA on a regular basis?”

Sex complicates things.  It always has, it always will.  If you are looking for a friend, why do you complain about being friend-zoned by a girl you like?  Instead of taking it as a bad thing, why isn’t it looked at as a way to slow it down and take baby steps into something different? *At this point, it might be a good time to say this is a Blog for the Grown and Sexy.  This isn’t being written for people 25 and younger.  You still have some Heauxin’ to do.  You go and get your Heaux on, and come back in a few years.  This will all make sense to you then.*

Once you have established this friendship, and basked in it for some length of time that probably makes no sense to her, at what point does the friendship turn into a relationship? Women thrive on the definitive.  We need to know when, what, who, where, and why.  Being vague about the timeline is stressful for some of us.  If it’s not defined, it doesn’t exist.  

It’s not because we want to trap you into something.  In most cases, it’s because we want to behave accordingly.  This is where communication and/or insecurity come into play.  The woman who has to ask a man what they are, will forever question the solidity of her relationship.  Doesn’t matter how much you try to reassure her, that first doubt will always there underneath her skin.  

The Friendship ——–> Relationship Continuum

Introduction —->Basic Knowledge —-> Shared Interests —-> {Possible Group Outing} —-> Frequent Communication —-> Private Outing —-> Daily Communication —-> Dating —-> Declaration or Request of Monogamy —-> Declaration of Commitment —> Relationship.

If at any point during the completion of this continuum, you feel as though this person isn’t going to meet your needs, STOP TALKING TO THEM. It’s not fair to you or her to continue down this path, and one of you knows it’s not going to be forever.  A large number of Bitter Women are bitter because this happened to them.  They started planning for forever, and you (the Man) had already decided this was just going to be for right now. . .without letting them know something wasn’t quite right.  It’s just unfair guys, stop it.

Also, the current prevalence of Social Media brings even more questions a woman will have for you, on officially establishing/announcing your relationship to the world. These questions include (but are not limited to) “Are we still just friends if we post pictures of things that we have done together?” and “Are we still just friends if we subtweet each other every night?” and “Are we still friends if your friends have tagged me in pictures they took of us together?” Social Media is just like Sex, it complicates everything

So What Are You Looking For?

Let’s look at the TYPES of women,  men seem to be looking for {in my experience}.  I  created a very satirical version of this, but some of it was based in truth.  From what I have observed, there are 4 types of women that men seem to be looking for these days.

1) Professional/Educated Woman

Pros: This is the kind of woman who has a Career, not a job.  It doesn’t really matter who she works for, it’s more the fact that she works.  She isn’t depending on anyone to support her and/or her children. This woman usually has a higher education, and maybe even an advanced degree. She is book smart and able to hold a conversation with a group of mixed background without a struggle.

Cons: She is career-oriented.  She has a goal, and has already created her plan in which to acheive it.  Your entrance in her life is a surprise, and not something she was looking for.  This could mean your relationship is more than likely to come second.  Also, if she does have children, then your relationship is going to come in 3rd Place.

There are many men who can’t handle being in 3rd Place.  And if that’s a problem for them, they should vocalize it.  Not liking your standing in a woman’s life breeds resentment and bitterness.  This could lead to cheating in some shape or form.

2) Classy/Twitter/Instagram Heaux

Pros: She is gorgeous. She fits all the Black Twitter Criteria for #WouldYouPullOutOrNah. The proportions are exact, and her hair is always done.  She is the epitome of FAHN.  She has all the right outfits, and knows all the right people.  She has 3,000 plus followers who validate her beauty everyday.  Every person you know wants her, and those who don’t want her are just jealous.  Plus, she will make beautiful babies for you one day.

Cons: She has never had to work hard a day in her life.  She is used to being catered to.  She gets off on attention.  Usually, she is bringing nothing to the table that will enhance the relationship.  In fact, it’s probably not a relationship.  It’s more of a dalliance into her world, and have to be okay with that.

At some point, you won’t be able to provide the level of attention she needs (in any way/shape/form), and the interaction will fade.

3) Mother Material

Pros: She is quite sensible.  She was raised the right way.  She wants to bring forth life on this earth, and nurture the next generation of children who will change the world.  She is soft in nature, and makes choices that show you she is looking into the future.  She understands what’s important in life, and wants to impart that  wisdom to her seed.

Cons: Sexually, she might become conservative.  Once she has a child, she might look at herself as someone’s  mother, not your lover.  She might become more old-fashioned in her views.  Her main focus will be the children, and their activities/well-being. Her concerns are now fitting into a specific peer group, and the latest PTA Potluck.  The sexual side of her may diminish over time.

A lot of this depends on what HER definition of what a mother is, and should look like.  These potential issues could all be avoided through communication.  Before you impregnate her, make sure she is the kind of mother you want for your child. Ask questions, until you get the answers you are looking for.

4) Homie/Lover/Friend

A Homie-lover-friend, is what I’m looking for
She can relate to my sex drive,
Cuffing her booty while we dance, and she don’t mind.

She’s got everything, that a man could ever want and more,
And her sexy gangsta way, she’s got me all up in a day
Homie-Lover-Friend is what I need for always.

Pros: She’s down to earth.  You can talk about anything without feeling awkward.  She understands what you need/want/desire almost before you know you need it.  She’s probably freakier than you, and isn’t afraid to share that side of herself with you, when the time is right.  She knows exactly what needs to happen to make the relationship work.  She’s an ‘Around The Way Girl,’ the Girl Next Door, your Play-Cousin from up the street.

Cons: Because she is so down to earth, you have never really looked at her THAT way.  You fell like you know way too much about her, and the choices she’s made in her life.  IT would kind of be like dating your sister.

It’s my opinion that underneath every relationship that has weathered various storms, the friendship has been a lasting one.  When you’re mad about the toilet seat being left up, or they ate the last piece of bacon, you don’t stay mad for long. This is also the person who see’s a pineapple and laughs because it’s just a weird ass fruit. This is the person who knows all your secrets, and can still look you in the eye at the end of the day.

Which One do You Want? Better yet, which one do you need? Or even, Which one do you have in your life right now? If you can’t be honest with yourself about what you’re looking for, how can she trust you when you say you are ready for a relationship? Are you even ready for a lasting friendship?

I Just Ask the Questions . . . it’s up to you to know the answers. As Always, Thanks for Reading! Comments/Thoughts/Answers Welcomed.

SideChicks: Picking up the Pieces when you stop doing YOUR job . . .

*Editor’s Note: This Blog is going to piss you off.  Just stop reading now.  If you keep reading, it’s your own fault if you feel some kind of way at the end.  I’m not even writing this to piss you off.  I’m writing it to tell MY understanding of SideChick Subculture. It’s better you read you this now, than get a SideChick Declaration of Ownership text message someday.  I’m just trying to help.*

Four Years ago, I wrote about my own experiences as a Side Chick. It’s a good read before you view the rest of this, as my attitude as been altered a little bit by life. Please understand this . . . I’m over SideChick Slander.  Not because I take it personally, but because it’s dumb.  We Slut Shame the SideChick but hail the man as a Pimp/Player/Boss/SexGod. With all the SideChicks who seem to be PROSPERING right now, I think it’s time to look at why.  But First, a Mini-Rant about #BlackTwitter and Scandal.

Scandal is one of the greatest written shows on TV right now.  And the Main Character is a Side Chick. The Presidential Side Chick! She has a job, friends, and a life.  She just happened to fall in love with the soon to be elected Leader of the Free World.  But according to #BlackTwitter, we have to hate her based SOLELY on her SideChick status.  Supposedly, she is breaking up a home, and ruining lives.  Which is a GOT DAMN LIE! Fitz don’t Love Mellie.  He ain’t neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeva gonna love Mellie.  But every Thursday, my TL is full of people (mainly men) bashing women for caring about Olivia’s emotions and thoughts.  For sympathizing with her in her daily struggle to let that Presidential Love go.  STOP IT! They will deal with the consequences of their relationship and be judged by whatever Higher Power their characters worship.  

Back to my original point . . . either I attract the shadiest females/males known to man into my circle, or y’all are some delusional ass people. SideChicks STAY winning.  Stop lying to everyone else on your timeline, and maybe even to yourself.  People cheat every damn day.  SideChicks become Step-Mothers every damn day.  Married Men step out of their house into the arms of another woman every damn day. And they gives not a FUCK about anyone’s feelings.

I’ve never hidden the fact I played that role once or twice in my life.  It wasn’t always on purpose, but it is a title I have held.  What I have hidden, and for good reason, is the amount of times I’ve chosen NOT to play that role.  I’ve been ASKED to be the SideChick more times than I would actually like to count. (7) For every person I’ve turned down, I’ve been asked again.  I’ve been propositioned by people I see on a regular basis, and their significant others have no damn clue. Ya’ll are living in a fantasy world where your man/woman is the most faithful person in the world.  Stop Lying to yourself. I’ll Help You.

1) Why Did I Get Married?

That’s not just a Tyler Perry Movie.  That’s a question you need to ask yourself.  If the answer to the question isn’t because I know this man/woman wants to look at my ashy ass every day, chances are someone in your relationship isn’t happy.  When you said I Do, did you listen to all the Vows? The Love Honor and Obey everyone hears.  Did you pay attention to that Honesty thing though.

A large portion of my male friends from High School/College are married or in serious relationships and have been for years.  Wanna know why 90% of them got married?  Because they felt like they had kept her waiting long enough. {Yeah, they admit that kind of stuff to me, probably because I’m the only person who actually asked.}  People get married for every reason under the sun other than Love.  Love ain’t got nothin’ to do with a better credit score, or a place to live, or them kids that need to be in daycare you can’t afford alone.  Men aren’t the only people who get married for all the wrong reasons. Women do it ALL the time.  The need for security, or at least the illusion of security is real out here in these streets.

This isn’t to say there aren’t any relationships based solely on the love and devotion of two people, but Keep It Real. People who go into a relationship with Rose Colored Glasses, will get those colored lenses broken. {This refers to having an unrealistic expectation of what Marriage/Committed Relationship are actually about}  It might take a few years, but one day you will wake up . . . and you won’t remember why you were in your relationship in the first place. When starting a relationship, we try to put our best foot forward.  Show the best image of ourselves.  We might even try to stay on the straight and narrow path, and ignore our previous patterns of behavior.  But if you are in a relationship with someone and have to hide any part of yourself, that person is NOT for you.  But you know who will accept all your flaws . . . The SideChick.

The SideChick doesn’t CARE that you were a heaux in college. {She might have been too} The SideChick doesn’t care that you have kinky sex fantasies.  The SideChick listens to you complain about your wife that never cooks, and quietly cooks you a meal.  The SideChick picks up her phone every time you call, and makes sure she is ready when you come over. The SideChick doesn’t ask you for money to get her hair done, and she doesn’t usually want anything but your attention.  The SideChick is everything your wife of 5+ years isn’t anymore.  THAT’S why The SideChick is still out here winning.  Because as long as your Wife/Girlfriend/Fiance/Baby Momma is off HER game, she will be on her’s.

2) But Can You Whistle

Place two women side by side.  They have the same exact educational background and general knowledge.  The are similar in build and facial structure.  One can Whistle, the other can not.  Most men will choose the Whistler, because she has a little something extra.  The SideChick is a Whistler.  Her ability to whistle isn’t the sole reason she is usually placed in the SideChick role, but it doesn’t hurt her in any way.  Men usually want to have the best of the best.  They want to have something no one else has –  be it a car, or a house, or a woman.  If the opportunity arises, the SideChick will whistle alllllll around your man if you let her. Examples of SideChick Whistling:

  • Ability to Orally please your man (If you won’t do it, he will find someone who will)
  • Similar opinions regarding sexual freedom (If he can TALK to her about doing it, he will do it with her)
  • Her culinary prowess is unmatched (The quickest way to a man’s heart is the lower half of his body. . . )
  • Silence is Golden (What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas)

In this brave new world of Female Sexual Freedom, Whistler’s are EVERYWHERE. The way to deal with this SideChick influx is to FIGHT BACK! Learn a new skill.  Find out who your man is, BEFORE he tells you while he’s over the SideChicks crib.  Talk to your man about his needs. If they don’t fit you, then move on.  But if you are adaptable, adapt.  Cuz SideChicks are the most pliable, malleable, adaptable individuals on God’s Green Earth.

3) Game Recognize Game (Social Networking)

Facebook Messenger and Twitter DM have ruined a MYRIAD of relationship.  I watch it happen everyday.  Guy says something sexual. Girl comments/retweets. Witty TL Banter ensues . . . then they both disappear from the TL/Newsfeed.  It. Has. Begun.  The SideChick will NEVER blatantly approach your man. He will make the first move. The minute he drops those 10 digits (Remember when saying 7 digits was sufficient) and they have that initial, ‘You know I been feeling you, but you got a girl tho . . .‘ conversation, the SideChick has won.

If we have learned nothing else from Kwame, Carlos Danger, Dwyane, and Swizz . . . it’s that men will say ANYTHING to the woman who will listen.  A man will sit at work and text the SideChick all day long. Between meetings, on trips to the bathroom, doesn’t really matter.  He wants attention, and the SideChick is going to give it to him . . . Point. Blank. Period.

It’s also important to know . . . The seasoned SideChick isn’t trying to get caught.  She knows it’s much more stress to have to fight a woman in the street about her man than be a Freak in his Bed.  The seasoned SideChick has an app on her phone that hides messages from certain people, and tells your man about it.  The seasoned SideChick actually has a Google Voice number so that your man doesn’t know her number.  What people fail to understand is that some people choose SideChickery {read: The Act of SideChicking} as their main source of relational interaction.  The reasons behind this are actually irrelevant.  This is a lifestyle, NOT a pastime.

4) Why are you Caping for SideChicks and not calling out men?

If you’ve gotten this far in my blog, and think I’m caping for SideChicks, then you have missed the point.  I’m not making excuses, I’m explaining common behavioral patterns.  I’m trying to put all women up on the game.  Lack of Knowledge = Failure to Succeed.  You might have been raised to be a certain kind of person, and your Man/Husband/Fiance/Baby’s Father might have been raised to seek out and marry that EXACT type of person.  That doesn’t mean people’s needs can’t change and the eye can’t wander.  The Cheating Man is an asshole. So is the SideChick.  Most people are assholes though.

Even after my travels to the Land of SideChickery, I believe in Love.  I believe that Two People can come together, and create a lasting bond that satisfies all their needs.  I believe this because I had for a brief time myself.  I know people who live this kind of life everyday.  Millions of men are tempted to cheat every day, and DON’T. The kind of relationships I’ve just described were achieved by honesty and communication.  If a man can’t be honest and communicate {without fear of judgement} with his mate, he will eventually attempt to find someone who affords him that option. The same can be said for women.  I really just thought someone should share their intimate knowledge of the SideChick Subculture with the masses.

Thoughts?

Feelings are NOT Facts . . .

It’s that thing when you have so much you need to say, and you can’t think of a clever way to say it.  I try to make my blogs cute and funny, but also reflective fo my current or past struggles.  Sadly, I’m in a place right now when I FEEL like anything I would have to say is going to offend or hurt someone’s feelings. This is going to be a cacophony of thoughts.  Then, I’ll try to bring it all together at the end okay.  Lets Go . . .

1) I’m Flattered But . . .

Recently, a guy from my past popped up out of nowhere.  We went to the same church when we were younger.  Due to my perpetual status as on outsider, we didn’t have much interaction.  He was cute, but he didn’t talk to me, probably because I was the awkward fat girl.  For some reason, he’s intent on convincing me that I am the one person he needs to make his life better.  Except, he’s doing it all wrong!

If you have to beg me to pay attention to you, you aren’t worth my time. Conversely, I shouldn’t be worth yours. The minute a girl says to you, I’m not ready for a relationship, believe her!  My aversion to anything that looks like a relationship aside, why are you trying so hard? And who told you the way to a woman’s heart was begging? Like, thanks for paying attention to me 20 years later . . . but no thanks.

Underneath this new – more curvy, less chunky – figure I am the SAME awkward Fat Girl from the Teen Choir.  I haven’t changed at all.  I said when I started losing weight, the men who started paying attention to me {but didn’t give me the time of day when I was at my largest} would be the first men to get told off.  Because I don’t care what kind of society we live in . . .If you didn’t like me at my ‘worst’, Fuck you Very Much at my very Best.

2) I’m In Love with Another Man . . . 

First of all, let me just say Jazmine Sullivan took my WHOLE entire existence with this song when I first heard it 3+ years ago.  But the words are ringing true to me currently. What’s crazy is, I’m not in love with a specific person.  I’m in Love with an image.  It’s the image I’ve cultivated over the last few years of what/who I’m looking to spend the rest of my life with.

I’m in Love with my Best Friend.  I don’t even know if I could be attracted to someone I didn’t trust with all my secrets FIRST.  Sexual Attraction is such a great idea….But it’s not gonna keep me warm in the middle of the night.  It’s not going to buy me Hello Kitty accessories because they saw them while they were out. I’m looking for the guy who knows my mood based soley on the Spotify Playlist playing while I’m washing dishes.

The person you should end up with, in my very humble opinion, is the person you think about when bad shit happens.  It’s the first person you call when you need to cry (more on that later).  Its the person whose face you know would make you feel safe.  In all of my relationship travels, there have been very few people that I’ve thought had the potential to be that person for me. 

Of course, my track record with falling in love with my Best Friend hasn’t gone so well in the past . . .

 3) WE, are Never Ever, Ever, Getting Back Together . . . 

In the same vein . . . I’m really tired of people telling me how I should feel about my Ex.  I’ve decided I’m allowed to hate him whenever I want to.  I am allowed to love him whenever I want to. I am allowed to miss him whenever I want to.  I want to be able to say I don’t ever want to see him again, and that be okay.  The Happy I Felt when we were together is something I should say I want again in my life.  But I don’t want that.  Ever.  Because if you have it, you can lose it.

Losing it almost broke me.  Few people I was on the verge of Suicide when I moved back to Michigan. *Well, now everyone knows I guess* I left AZ because the stress of knowing he was so close and yet so far was getting to me.  Staying in AZ gave me a false sense of hope.  I’ve learned that Hope should only apply to Barack Obama and the Dreams of Suckers. {10pts if you get this movie reference}

I don’t want to EVER see him again.  I don’t want to hear his voice, or smell him, or listen to his favorite song. I don’t even like seeing pictures of him.  Because 1st, I remember the Happy.  But IMMEDIATELY after that, I remember the Sad.  And that Sad almost took me out.

See how my thoughts don’t make any sense.  Those three things I just posted, in complete conflict with each other.  But Wait, there’s more…

4) Being Honest Is Hard

I’ve stopped telling people stuff I think might hurt their feelings.  I’ve stopped making statements that might offend ‘outsiders.’ Now, I do have a circle of friends who accept everything that comes out of my mouth.  But . . . even amongst some of my “Close” Friends, I don’t say what I think.  I think being in social work has stunted my emotional freedom.

I used to ‘react’ quickly to things that offended me.  I used to stand up for myself when I felt slighted.  I don’t do that anymore either.  That could be the result of being told my feelings don’t matter.  It could be because my feelings are never validated, because they don’t go along with the desired emotional direction of “The Team.”  But whatever has caused this emotional retardation that has made me sensitive to everyone but me, it’s time out for that shit.

  5) Stop being a Baby

I cry too fucking much.  Like, I spent a SOLID 28 years, never crying.  We are talking maybe one ugly cry a year.  Since 2010, I swear I’ve cried on average 4 times a month.  Like, I cry watching tv shows.  I cry watching movies.  I cry listening to music.  I cry during phone conversations.  What the fuck is wrong with me?

Crying is for weak people, who can’t suck it up and deal with what life hands them. This crying all the damn time thing isn’t even something I would have ever thought I would go through.  *Boy, was that Psychic Wrong*  I still handle problems and get shit done.  But it’s fucking embarrassing.  Everyone shouldn’t see my tears.  They haven’t earned the right to see me this vulnerable. I’m starting to think I should have gone to therapy once I moved back to Michigan.  I might be in a better place emotionally.

So Yeah, that’s it for now.  I doubt this makes any sense.  I don’t really think it was meant to.  But I put it all out there, so that’s something right?

Picture it: Ohio, Summer of 2006 or . . . The Good Ole’ Days

Best Album of 2006

When this album came out, my life changed.  I don’t mean that in the metaphorical sense.  I mean my entire life changed.  I had just recently moved out of my mother’s house, and into my first apartment that wasn’t paid for my Sallie Mae.  I was living in a beautiful apartment, and I was losing a best friend.  The Summer of 2006 taught me what kind of person I should be, and who in my life was important.

The first time I heard this song I thought, “Well, that’s a new sound for Cee-Lo.” Then all of a sudden it was EVERYWHERE! Every commercial about a new product, every reality tv show, every radio station (white or black.) It was like the second of Christ for some people when they heard this song.  But the reason this album still means so much to me is the memories this song represents.  The moments where everyone told me I was being irresponsible with my time, and it didn’t seem to phase me. A time in my life where my biggest worry was working 4-9hour shifts at work so I could take half of friday off and drive to Dayton and/or Columbus.

These Two Ladies Saved My Life . . .

These Two Ladies Saved My Life . . .

I used to be (and kinda still am) the epitome of Living Paycheck To Paycheck.  I traveled every two weeks, on a Friday that’s I got paid.  I would spend about $300 in one weekend, then come back and take care of bills.  But it was worth it!  Keep in mind, this was before Facebook, (yes I’m that old) and all we had was MySpace. I wrote blogs everyday, and we sent emails during the work day to plan out our weekends of debauchery. For a while, it’s was just traveling the state of Ohio to attended various Pride events.  The real fun began during the 4th of July Weekend.

Please Notice the AMOUNT of liquor on the Entertainment Center

Please Notice the AMOUNT of 

liquor on the Entertainment Center

The Summer of 2006 is the last time I drank on a daily basis.  The amount of money we all spent on liquor and food was just . . . Thank God my Uncle was having his annual invite everyone you know BBQ.  So we ate for free that weekend . . . more $ for Liquor! When we weren’t having random photo shoots, we were walking around malls harassing strangers.  And the whole time, St. Elsewhere was playing in the background.

This is not to say there weren’t some dark times that Summer. There was that one time when this chick tried to kill herself and we had to call the cops to go find her. And in that same weekend, we all decided to get “Frivolous White Girl Tattoos.” That summer a marriage ended, and my roommate moved out leaving me alone with a $849 a month rent (because she was in love with her boyfriend). *it should be noted my former roommate is now happily married to this man*

Blogging about how much fun we were having . . .

Blogging about how much fun we were having . . .

The ups and downs of Summer 2006 are why I love thinking about that summer, because everyday brought something different. I think I wrote like 12 blogs a month.  I was in a place where everything meant something.  Every experience meant something life changing.  I was so damn EMO that Summer.  This was the first time I had to worry about money, and having enough of it.  I didn’t have my mom to borrow money from every other day. 

I <3 Cuz she cooks for me!

I ❤ Her cuz she cooks for me!

How can you hear that song and NOT want to make new friends in public.  While dressed provocatively. And slightly drunk.  I mean really. The majority of the Summer of 2006 . . . was FUN.  I mean like crying laughing type of fun.  For every tear shed in sadness, there were 1000’s shed while rolling around laughing on the floor.   It’s the summer I met The Girl, and she made me the greatest fried Chicken I’ve ever had. She is the reason (while 100% sober) I wrote this little song:

Ode to Chicken

(To the Tune of Ode To Joy)

Chicken, Chicken, It’s Delicious
Love to eat it everyday!
Chicken, Cook it, Fry It, Love It,
Chicken, eat it Everyday!

Chicken, Chicken, I love Chicken
Chicken, it’s been good to me . . .
Chicken, Chicken, Finger Lickin’
Chicken brings me Ecstasy!

You don’t know you are happy until you look back at it.  But MAN, I was so happy that summer.  I did what I wanted to do, without fear of what people would think of me.  In my mind, my actions didn’t effect anyone but me.  There was no such thing as a repercussion.  That’s the summer I learned that Love has not age limit or sexual orientation.  It’s just love. The usual end of Summer is celebrated Labor Day Weekend. And Celebrate it we did! The Blog Title for that weekend: Liquor, A Smelly Cat, 2 Bathroom Orgys, a Spanish Serenade, and  A Gay Chicken. *please click that, it’s worth the read*

I don't even remember TAKING this picture

I don’t even remember TAKING this picture

The most enduring part of Summer 2006. . . The memories I didn’t get a chance to write about, because I was having too much fun.  It’s the songs we sang at the top of our lungs while driving up & down the highway. It’s the outfits we coordinated the day after labor day, because they were all white, and we don’t give a damn about your rules.  It’s the fact that every picture we took that summer had us in the same order. It’s every mile we put on my leased car.  It’s every bottle of liquor we finished, that ended in laughter and merriment. . . And strangely, the Blog I wrote as a tribute to the people who made it so great still stands!

Shout-out to The Girl: For  making me get off my ass and go to arts and crafts.  For being such an incredible person, a loving person, and the Ambassador of Let’s Make it All okay.  People like her make it a better place in this world, so shout outs to you, for making an emotional breakdown not last as long as it could have . . .

Shout-outs to Aaliyah: Who refuses to back down, who lives her life the way she wants to, regardless. To love, in it’s many shapes and forms, in old pictures, and drunken almost fights, and passing out in Paris, and other random shit, to happiness.  To a love that will never die, even if we are separated for like 3 years cuz of stupid girls, you will forever be my little sister, and it will always be my right, do tell you what i think is best for you, lol. . .

Shou-tout to the Word FUCK: To being able to use it and express pure emotion, to making it work in any situation, to being able to yell it in a car, and make someone listen to the words you are trying to say to them . . .

Shout-out to Diamond: To giving the Best Damn Hugs EVER, even though they weren’t appreciated the way they should have been.  To knowing that things change, and people change, but fuck anyone else that doesn’t have your best interests at heart.  To hoping that she finds her happy place, inside her self, and to hoping that she knows that regardless of everything else that happened, will happen, or is happening right now, she will always be my wife . . .

When was the last time you danced?

I’m Mad as Hell . . . and I’m Not Going to Take It Anymore

I’m Mad my former best friend betrayed me.  I’m Mad that I cared too much about being the bigger person to tell her to go Fuck Herself.  I’m Mad I’m still hurt about her not caring I’m hurt. I’m Mad she didn’t care enough about a friendship we spent 10+ years building, and instead chose to compromise it with someone she had known for less than 6 months. I’m Mad that we had an amazing Idea for a book that would have made us so much money, and now it won’t be written because we don’t speak. 

I’m Mad as FUCK I fell in love with a man that wasn’t attracted to me.  I’m Mad I let him make me feel ugly, and unattractive.  I’m Mad I stopped looking at myself as a woman, and instead of as a thing that needed to be fixed.  I’m Mad I still won’t speak of the other fucked up things that went on in our relationship because I care about other people’s feelings.   I’m pissed the fear of rejection he, seemingly systematically, instilled in me follows me everywhere I go.  I’m Mad as FUCK I’m afraid to like someone.  Not because I don’t think I’m awesome, but because I don’t want to risk losing something great again.  I’m Mad he played me in public, with my family. . . 

Speaking of Family . . . I’m Mad my Biological Family is full of assholes.  I’m Mad my Brother is a bitch, and lets his Bitch wife run his life.  I’m Mad my brother would rather kiss my father’s ass than expect better for himself.  I’m Mad my niece would believe anything he would say about me.  I’m Mad I lived in Arizona and my support system was not related to me, with the exception of my Older Sister.  I’m Mad I will probably never speak to that side of my family again, because I don’t know how to speak to them without telling all of them to Go Fuck Themselves.

I’m Mad at my job, for exposing me to the most fucked up people I’ve ever met.  I’m Mad I’m so out of touch with that side of society, that I can’t help them the way I want to.  I’m Mad people don’t understand how prevalent Domestic Violence is. I’m Mad the women I am trying to help are their own worst enemy.  I’m Mad I’m struggling to see past a Survivor’s Mentality, and into the person they have the potential to be.  I’m Mad the same woman who says she cares about her child, smokes like a chimney.  I’m Mad there is an entire generation of children who are being raised with a role Model like Nicki Minaj.

I’m Mad Nicki Minaj is even an artist.  I’m Mad people call Eminem a Misogynist  but Nicki can’t refer to a female without using the words Bitch Hoe or Cunt.  I’m Mad the Feminist Movement has completely ignored Black Women and our struggle. I’m Mad I know what Rape Culture is. I’m Mad Rick Ross made a song about Date Rape, and no one is rioting and burning his music. I’m Mad I know what Misogyny is.  I’m Mad I Can’t be a Feminist, cuz I’m Black, Fat, and Educated.  

I’m Mad stress is making me gain weight.  I’m Mad the sun doesn’t fucking shine in Michigan like EVER.  I’m Mad I have no motivation to do anything anymore.  I miss Arizona, and the Tucson JCC Gym, and having a gym where I work.  I miss being happy driving and seeing the sun.  I’m Mad I don’t see mountains while I’m driving anymore.  I’m Mad I feel like I ran away from Arizona, because I just couldn’t take not being loved anymore. 

I’m Mad that I have so much anger inside of me all the time that all i want to do is punch someone.  Like literally punch a stranger in the face at all hours of the day.  I’m Mad this anger is causing me to lose friends, and push them away.  I’m Mad no one understands why I’m so angry, and I can’t vocalize it without feeling like I’m just complaining about petty shit.

I’m Mad people date/marry/stay with people they don’t want to be with.  I’m Mad I know more people who have cheated on their significant others than I do people who are faithful.  I’m Mad almost every male I know married the person they thought everyone accept, not the person that made them happy.  I’m Mad people stay in relationships for “Stability/Children/Family” but are willing to ruin someone else’s life to find their happiness.  

I’m Mad I spent years searching for the perfect man, then I found him.  I’m Mad I’m TERRIFIED of him.

I’m Mad I want to be happy, but don’t see it happening anytime in the near future.  I’m Mad I live with my mother.  I’m Mad I’m writing this blog, and hoping no one reads it because if they do, they are going to know I’m slowly losing my mind.  I’m Mad talking to people is frustrating for the first time in my life.  Because I always seem to be on the verge of tears if we discuss something of merit or value.  I’m Mad the only people who seem to understand my “Second-hand Trauma” have trauma of their own, so I don’t really want to burden them with mine. 

I’m just Mad.  I’m trying to move past it, and it’s not working.  So I thought I would write this, and maybe just saying it to strangers would help.

Dear Skinny Stranger Bitch . . . You Don’t Know My Story

*If I was your teacher in your youth, I’m sorry you had to read these harsh words   If I taught your child, I’m sorry you had to see these harsh words.  But, they must be said.*

I went to church today.  My wonderful Pastor was talking about “Breaking Out of Your Rut” in life.  Evidently during my gallivanting (Defn: to go about in search of pleasure) last weekend, I missed part one.

Today’s sermon focused on the last 3 steps to escaping your Rut. The point we are discussing, indeed the catalyst for this rant was Exercise Your Body.  His main point during the sermon was, Movement of your body inspires you to do more in your everyday life.  My rant, however, is not about my Pastor’s words.  It’s about a complete stranger’s way of dealing with them.

Episode #1: As my Pastor is talking, he says, “Now say to your Neighbor, Movement is Good.” My Neighbor to my left says, “You should really listen to what he is saying.

Who Bitch What?!?!?!?

I didn’t say anything, because I knew that if I punched this random Skinny Stranger Bitch in her fucking face, I would probably be asked to leave.  So I just said Amen, and went back to listening to my Pastor.

Episode #2: My Pastor stated something to the effect of, “Y0ur homework for this week is to get up and move.  Walk 15 minutes.” The Skinny Stranger Bitch then gave me the  Holy Helpful Stranger arm rub and said, ‘Now I know it’s hard for you to lose all that weight.  But you have to try.”

Who. Bitch. What?!?!?!?!?

Episode #3: My Pastor then stated something to the effect of, Movement will make you feel better about yourself. Again with the Holy Helpful Stranger Arm Rub, “I have a niece that’s bi— Full Figured like you, and I tell her all the time, You have to try.”

Mother. Fuck.

First of all, stop touching me heaux, I don’t know you like that.  Second of all, all fat people are not the same.  Third, my thighs touching is not an indicator  I Hate My Life.  You Don’t Know My Story.  You don’t know SHIT about me.  You look at me and see a Fat Girl. And that, is the Mother. Fucking. Problem.

I have never met this woman in my life.  She doesn’t know that I’ve lost 60lbs in the last 13 months, and I am working toward losing another 30 before June.  But HOW DARE YOU . . . My Fat is not your business.  Even if I was 600lbs, you don’t have the right to give me advice about what to do with my body.  You have enough room on the bench, my fat is not touching you – so kindly Shut The Fuck Up.

I think her compulsion to save me is actually part of a bigger issue – that is,  the need to help those we deem less fortunate than us.  Of course this assessment of need is based solely on outward physical appearance.

I call what she did Skinny Bitch Privilege.   The Skinny Bitch feels they are the media’s (read: the USA Media) representation of ‘Beauty,” so this means they have the right to ‘help’ people get like them.  They ASSUME anyone who isn’t like them, just hasn’t had the right motivation to Get Like Them. Their Mindset seems to be, “Oh Woe is You.  Please allow me to help you on your journey to being a better person.

Fat DOES NOT EQUAL Unhappy/Sick/Lazy. If there is one constant annoyance in these past 13 months, it has been the perception/assumption that my weight loss happened because I was finally tired of being fat.  It didn’t.  It happened because someone told me I couldn’t do it.  A 60 day challenge turned into a lifestyle change.

Do I feel better now that I’ve lost weight? Yes.  Do I have more energy? Yes. Do rainbows now fly out of my soul every time I work out? No.  Do I know feel complete and whole? NO.  I wasn’t miserable at 378lbs. I’m not ridiculously happy at 318lbs. But however I feel about my body, you will NEVER have the right to tell me your opinion about it.

Listen Skinny Bitch, I’m good.  I eat what I want, I don’t suffer from any sort of guilt/shame about my size.  I’m a grown ass woman.  I like food I know isn’t good for me, and if I feel like it, Imma eat that shit! I don’t need your help or your Pity.

Please, go on with your eating of Salad, I eat that too. Continue to prosper as you use the elliptical to get an ass that looks like mine. Further your journey into the land of Thighs Don’t Touch, I hear it’s cold and dry there . . . but that might just be a rumor.

You might not agree with my thoughts, that’s totally fine.  But thank you for reading, feel free to comment/express your opinion. As long as it’s not about my body 🙂