Tag Archive | God

I’m Feelin’ Myself

There comes a time in every woman’s life, that she realizes her true worth.  This moment can last a lifetime, or it can be a fleeting/passing thought.  But every woman will have this moment.  I had mine on October 28th, 2015.  After a two hour phone conversation with MM, I realized that for the 1st time since we “broke up”, I was happy again.    I was actually able to say to him, “I wish I had met you now, because I’m amazing and you don’t even get to experience that.”
5 years ago, he was the most interesting person in the world to me.  I’d never met anyone like him.  He added something to my life that was missing, in my opinion. 

I had a job I loved, and apartment that felt like home, friends and family that were close enough to see when I wanted, but far enough I didn’t have to worry about them dropping by unannouced.  I was content. Out of the blue, I found someone to share it with. I could come home, and talk to another person about my day, and know they understood my angst, frustrations, and triumphs. That’s what had been missing, and I didn’t even know that was something I needed to get to that next level. 

I’m there again in my life.  I can finally say I’m back to the point in my life that I’m consistantly happy at the end of the day.  I walk into my home that I love, after working my 2 jobs that change children’s lives, and can look around and be pleased with myself.  I’ve gotten to the point where I know who/what I need in my life at any given moment.  My emotions are no longer scary, I’m no longer compelled to eat my way through them.  I can hold myself accountable financially, and even put money in a savings account and not touch it. 

I know what I want my next relationship to look like.  I know where I want to be in 12 years.  I have a plan now.  I have so much knowledge about the wrold, and how it works.  Some of the knowledge came from difficult times, but it’s valued just the same.  Somewhere in the last year, I’ve become this new person.  This new me: She knows her worth.  She is no longer afraid to speak her mind.  She no longer hides behind ‘What I should Be,’ instead, she basks in Who I Am.


Who Am I
1) A Social Worker – I work every day to find family members, and bring them back together.  To get kids out of the Foster Care system, and find them a forever home. I’m able to use my powerful skills of conversation, to make people look at the world differently, and use my own story to help them let go of some of their pain.  I’ve found the perfect job for me – I get paid to stalk people on the internet, then convince them to do what I want them to.  Because . . . Awesome!

2) My Mother’s Child – Personality Wise, we are pretty much the same person at this point.  She’s my hero, and I wanna be like her when I grow up. I want to raise a child the way she raised me, and hopefully make the same impact on their life that she has made on mine.  I’m so happy to consider my mother my friend now, it’s been a journey I wouldn’t trade for anything.

3) A Proud Member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc – I’ve finally found a chapter that is going to help me become more active in the community, and eventually the country.  I’m finally ready to get back to that side of me, MJ the Super Zeta. I’m ready to introduce a new generation of kids to greek life.  To invite children to stepshows, and involve them in community service.  To network in the city of Tucson, and the state of Arizona. To do this Zeta thing the RIGHT way this time, and use all my life experiences to make my community a better place.

4) A Registered Behavioral Technician – I work with kiddos on the Autism Spectrum and help them to be the best version of themselves possible, be it at home, in public, or at school.  And I’m Damn Good at it. Now, I am Nationally Certified to do so.  I’ve been working with kids on the spectrum since my frist year of teaching, even though we didn’t know at the time one of my students was on the spectrum.  There is a special kind of blessing that comes from helping a child open up to the world, when they have only been in their own world for so long.

5) A Child of God – Most of my life, I’ve struggled with my religious identity.  Being raised in the church, I often felt bad for questioning certain things.  Adulthood and life has lead me to understand that God is in everything.  He/She/They doesn’t just have to live in a baptist church, or in Jesus, or in Allah.  God is Love.  God is Living a life of Service to others.  God is finding the Beauty in even the most Ugly of situations.  I can finally say, “Giving Honor to God who is the head of my Life,” and know what that means, which is a blessing in and of itself.

I’m sure there are more labels that apply to me.  These are the 5 I choose to highlight today.  Everyday, I thank God for the person he has allowed me to become, and hope I stop fighting him so much when he takes me down a path I wasn’t expecting.  I guess this is going to be my “Me at 34,” birthday blog, just a little bit early.  Thanks for Reading 🙂


Free Write: This is My Temporary Home/Fix You

So, I’ve been in Arizona for about 6 weeks.  The move was frantic, but the energy it required to move back was enough to keep me distracted.  Getting settled and job hunting has taken a while.  I’ve kept myself busy.  Purposefully, it seems.  The first time I saw this house, I knew it was for me.  It had everything I’d ever wanted for myself.  I prayed for this house every day, until I put in my offer. This was MY house, I wanted it for me.  I was only thinking about me when I saw it.  People say all the time, make plans . . . then listen to God laugh at them.

Somewhere along the way, this House lost it’s luster.  I’d be stupid to say, I don’t know the exact moment that happened.  But even acknowledging that an ‘entity’ had the power . . . nay, I gave an ‘entity’ the power to take that away from me . . . is disgusting.  I ran away from home, that’s what moving back to Michigan was.  I told me truth to very few people, because it was embarrassing to me.  But, God and Ernestine helped heal me.  I stopped judging myself, and blaming myself for everything that had happened in the past 3 years.

I was able to forgive myself for the part I played, and the choices I made that lead me to where I was – cowering like an abused puppy in Michigan.  But along the way, I lost one of my Best Friends.  Forgiving myself meant I had to place the rest of the blame on all parties, and them not acknowledging their part was a deal breaker for me.

This new me, that Haven built, holds people accountable.  Its a huge disappointment to me that I lost the one person who I could share my secret hidden thoughts.  There was no {to my knowledge} hidden agenda, jealousy, or lies.  My most outrageous thoughts were heard without me being told they were wrong.  There is something freeing about that.  I don’t have that many female friends who don’t judge me, or preach to/at me, or want to lead me down a different path.

I miss that freedom.  I miss the days when I didn’t think my words were going to be used against me.  The betrayal I feel, isn’t because she ‘chose’ him over me, it comes from the feeling that everything else in our friendship might have been a lie.  Every thought I shared with her about him, things I couldn’t say to his face {and there wasn’t much} he ended up knowing.  He used that knowledge, those secrets to break me.  She helped him.  And for what? Feeling that a man is more important than a friendship . . . it’s alot.

I thought I was ready to be back here, in this house that had begun to feel like an Island I had been exiled to as punishment.  The majority of my friends live at least 200 miles from me.  The one person I want/need is too far away.  Maybe that’s whats wrong.  I’d gotten entirely too used to having access to people who made me happy.  I can’t call TIITC and say lets go to dinner, and I can’t text The Boy and ask What’s the Haps.  I can’t go stalk Astacia at Jimmy Johns . . . It’s lonely starting all over again.

The worst part is, I haven’t been idle.  I’ve been reading, and discovering new truths about myself.  It hasn’t been all bad.  In fact, it’s been kind of awesome.  But on a night like tonight, I wish I could dial her number, and give her all my secrets. And I can’t . . . and that makes me hate her all over again.  It’s been worse though, this feeling.  So I know it’s going to get better.

Tears Stream . . . down your face
When you Lose something you can not replace.
Tears Stream . . . down your face

Lights with Guide You Home,
And Ignite your bones,
And I will Try . . . To Fix you.

Tomorrow is another day, a day to look into the sun, and feel the warmth that is Arizona. Because this is MY HOUSE, and if it takes a few for weeks, and a few more thousand dollars to make it feel as such, so be it.

Late Night Ramblings of 2011: The Fear of God…

Right…not quite sure how to start this one so I’m just going to start typing on my HTC Thunderbolt keyboard. (Product Placement)

To say, I’ve had a bad week is like saying the late Ms. Winehouse had a slight drug problem. So we aren’t going to pretend that mentally I’m in a good place right now. In fact, I can honestly say I’ve never felt this NUMB before in my life.

Which brings me to the title of this blog. I’m afraid of God. Not in the way a “Good Christian” should be, but instead in the way a person who has never had a relationship with God would be. My struggles with my own faith notwithstanding, I currently find myself in a place where I am afraid to have hope. Afraid to think positive thoughts about anything that I am encountering at this point in my life.

When I was growing up, I believed in God and Jesus becuz I was told to. My mother took me to church every Sunday, and I always had the longest Easter Speeches. But I didn’t really believe any of it. I just went with the flow.  As I got older, I started to wonder if Christians really knew what they were talking about. My relationship with a God is going though some tough times right now.

I’m not perfect, this I know. I’ve done some foul things in the name of making myself feel better. Used stolen credit card numbers to buy books, stolen money so that I wasn’t the poor kid at school, forged signatures to get my way{….this list isn’t much longer than that….} But in real life, my goal has always been to help others. To bring joy into their lives, and have a positive impact.

So as I sat in Jail last Thursday night, I wondered to this God that everyone worships and adores, Why Me? Why did this happen to me? When am I  going to be done paying for my past sins, and get to live a life of happiness. This plea, seemingly, went unheard. And even while I am typing this, a part of me is afraid that me saying these things is going to cause this unknown God to come get me again.

I need my life to change. I need to get to a place where there isn’t fear around every corner. Fear of God. Fear of saying the wrong thing to the right person, and losing another job. Fear of being rejected again and again by people who shouldn’t matter but do. Fear of asking people for help because of what they might think of me. Fear of living in the same poverty in which I was raised. Fear that one day, someone will really understand how lost I really am…

But most of all, I’m afraid to hope. To make a wish so that it might come true. I’m afraid to want success, to want to be happy, for fear of punishment from a crime I don’t even know that I committed. I’m so TIRED of being afraid of everything, and feeling nothing all at the same time.

I’m just so TIRED.

Every morning that I wake up is a great day. I am thankful to be alive, I just kinda wish I was enjoying my life, instead of just living it. This is of course coming from a person who USED TO love being alone. Since Thursday, I can’t stand being any place without someone around.

I want that to go away too. I want to feel comfortable in my own skin again, without having flashbacks of sitting in a police car, or being handcuffed, or wearing prisoner orange.

And I really want to stop being afraid of a God that I barely even believe in.

Black Girl Pain – My Lifelong Struggle with Depression

*The underlined words are companion pieces to this blog. They are Blogs I’ve written in the past dealing with Depression. Please check those out as well*

The first thing that must be said, Depression is real.  It’s an actual disease, that is affecting more and more young people.  The first time Depression entered my life, was just after my first break-up. I had lived my life, knowing that A Piece of Me was Missing, but not being sure if it was ever going to exist.  Suddenly, I met this person that made that all go away.  Then, after one argument, it was all over.  That happy place was shattered into a billion pieces.  I couldn’t explain that feeling to anyone, I just had to wake up everyday and face the fact that the thing that made me happier than I ever thought I could be was gone, and I didn’t ever see it coming back.

Honestly, I thought I was tired. It just made no sense to me to wake up and face classes, friends, life. My bed was just so much more comfortable.  I stopped going to classes, because when I was there, I wasn’t paying attention to what the teachers were saying anyway.  So why go to sleep in class, when my bed was right there?  I left my dorm every night at 6:oo pm for dinner with the Crew, then went right back to my room to sleep some more.  I honestly don’t know how no one noticed.  I did the bare minimum, for at least 6 months. At the end of that semester, my GPA was a 1.1427. Do you know how many classes you have to fail to get that GPA? 3, and get 2 D’s, and an A in choir.

My 3.7 GPA freshman year is the ONLY thing that kept me enrolled in the University of Dayton. I went from the 3.7 to a 2.0. Academic Probation was 1.9, I JUST made it.  I knew something had to change.  I was losing roommates, and friends because of my attitude and I really didn’t care.  One day, when I couldn’t stand to be in my room another minute, I went into the study carrols to write in my journal, and as I was writing, I noticed that I couldn’t breathe.  I fell to the floor, crying so loud the people in the dorm next door came to see what was wrong.  I cried for 45 minutes, listening to Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now”.

I picked myself up off the floor, walked back to my room and swore to myself I would never let someone hurt me like that again. 2 years later, during a road trip with a Soror of mine, we were talking about relationships and how they can change the course of your life.  I told her the story of my “Celine Dion Breakthrough.” She looked me straight to my face and said to me, “You know that was depression, right?” I actually said to her, “Black People don’t get depressed, We don’t have time.” But once we started talking about everything else that was going on with me at that time, I started to think that maybe she was right.

I went to the Student Center, and talked to someone about what had happened, and they confirmed that yes, I had been suffering from Depression.  So it had a name, that overwhelming feeling of nothingness.  The thought that all my actions are leading me to a place that doesn’t matter.  The need to just be in my bed, under the covers, watching every movie I own.  When you hear about Depression, you never hear about that part.  You see that ladies surrounded by boxes of tissue, with runny noses, eating ice cream. The face of Depression is usually a White one.

Today, I had a conversation with my mother about Depression, and her realization that it might be a family issue.  I’ve only been in the “Celine Dion” Place one other time, and that was when I first moved to AZ. My mother knew, I think she could tell.  Usually, when I get near to that place she’s the first person to see it now.  When I was at school, no one understood what the hell had caused me to change that much, and no one ever said to me, “Maybe you’re Depressed.” It wasn’t a thought.

Because Black women don’t deal with Depression.  We don’t acknowledge it.  We really don’t even know what it is.  It’s the been labeled, “Some other shit that I need to deal with,” or “I was just having an off week,” or “It’s too cold to leave the house,” or “I’ll just go to work tomorrow.” It’s hard to put a name to something you don’t understand, know how to acknowledge, or sometimes want to.

Depression is the festering sore that picks at the psyche of Beautiful Women, until they can’t take it anymore, and you get a phone call asking if you have heard from So & So in a week?  Depression is one traumatic event after another, pulling you into an abyss that you can’t navigate.  Depression is “I’m just not good enough,” & “Why won’t someone love me,” & “Why don’t people see/hear/listen to/understand me?” Depression is sleeping the whole day and finding yourself buried in 18 months worth of bills. Depression is struggling to face everyday at work without bursting into tears.  Depression is hiding in your closet listening to Purple Rain at 5 in the morning.

Depression is a battle that some of my friends are losing.  Because we DON”T talk about it. We don’t want anyone to see that we don’t have a handle on this problem.  We, as Black Women, have so MUCH stuff to deal with, that we don’t have time to take care of our mental health.  But if we don’t talk about it, we are going to continue to lose ourselves.  In bad choices, and bad relationships, and situations that put our health/life at risk.  We will continue to lose ourselves to drugs, and liquor, and sex, and cutting, and suicide attempts, and everything else that comes from holding the pain inside.

I’m not in a bad place.  I’m actually in a great place right now.  But there might be someone who needs to know they aren’t alone.  Who feels like they can’t make it one more day.  This is for you.  To let you know that you can make it, as long as you acknowledge that you are having a problem in the first place. You are not ALONE in your fight.  Find someone to talk to, even if it’s a stranger.  Figure out the ROOT of your issue, and if you don’t know how {because you don’t watch Oprah and Dr. Phil enough} ASK FOR HELP. It’s only a secret if you hide from it. Depression don’t HAVE to be the end, it can be the beginning.

Once you can acknowledge the issues . . . You can start working on Filling the Gap/Closing the Gap.

The Power of Christ Compels You . . .

Okay.  So just for a second we are going to pretend that I am not horribly racist, and that I can write a blog that is not completely based on my supreme dislike of White People Churches.

That being said, I Hate White People Church.  Not because I hate White People, but because their church is boring as hell. *I will be cursing in this blog about religion, GTFOI* Not boring becuz it’s White People.  But boring because CLEARLY they don’t serve the same God as I do.

Let’s discuss the White People Church Service I went to this morning.

All White People Churches Look Like This

I should have known when I walked in.  I was trying to have hope, but the average age of the people in the congregation was 60.  And not “Sexy 60” more like “age spot, leather skin, diet my whole life type 60,” ya dig?  But I was like, “Do NOT judge these people and their love of our Lord Jesus Christ.  They could be live as hell.”

So I find my seat on the far left, which is where i sit so that no one can see me tweeting, and begin to peruse the “bulletin.” Except, at White People Church, it’s called a Program.  It’s in Full Color and it’s a 11×17 trifold. It was all good until I saw this:

Biblical Influence on the U.S. Constitution

MU’FUCKA FOR REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just forget separation of Church and State (that’s in the FUCKING CONSTITUTION) Is that what we do at Church? I knew at this point that I wasn’t going to enjoy this church.  I also knew they were not happy that I was there.  I was still like, maybe this will work.  Maybe I can make it without being mad.  Then a portly gentleman touches me on my back and says:

Him: “I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed your singing “Let Freedom Ring.”
Me: Yeah, I don’t go to this church, this is my first time here
Him: Oh Wow, Ya’ll really do all look alike.
Me: O_o


Her: I loved your Solo
Me: That wasn’t me
Her: Are you sure, you look just like her!
Me: (~_-)

Yup. Service hadn’t even started yet.  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see what signifies the beginning of praise and worship in White People Church. 4 White dudes in Khaki Shorts, Striped Polo’s Thong Sandals, holding various types of Guitars.  Yes Friends, the Praise Team is Here!  One Bass Guitar, an Electric Guitar, Two Acoustic Guitars, a dude on a piano w/ a mike, and two white girls in sun dresses! Let’s Get Ready to Praise White Jesus!!!!

Not the Praise Team from this morning, but You get the gist.

The leader of the Praise Team thought he was Jason Mraz, just a strummin’ his guitar and scatting during songs that did NOT require vocalizations.  White People Churches don’t really praise God.  They sing at him.  At one point, this lady started tapping her feet.  Her husband nudged her.  She stopped.

Not a hand was clapped or waved.  They just read the words of the screen, and swayed to the beat.  Everything was to the tune of the most boring song you have ever heard.  But my tweet game was on POINT! To break up my consistant live tweeting, I took a look at other pages in the Program.  I saw this:


But not that you called ur congregation out for not giving enough.  At a Black People Church, when a deficit occurs you just get a 4 week series on the Benefits of Tithing.  In White People Church they just show you the numbers, and let you be ashamed.  That’s deep as hell Dude.

At this point, I also noticed that all their songs are sung in the Kings English. “Worthy Lord, thou art Merciful.  Dost thou accept thy child’s praise,” Are you Freaking Serious.  Jesus stopped listening to you YEARS ago!

Finally, we get to the Sermon.  At this point, I look over to the student that was the reason I was there for, and saw her eyes filming over.  She wasn’t into it, at all.  So he starts to talk.  About how the World has gone to shit since 1962, when the courts took prayer out of schools.  He had charts.  Pie Graphs.

“We just need to keep putting people in Congress that understand that God’s way in the only way.”

In the back of my mind, I pictured them all at Heath Ledger’s Funeral holding these signs:

This is real.

Half my family is White.  I don’t hate White People.  But White People at churches like the one above, and the one I attended this morning, I can REALLY do without.  The last thing that he said, before the Communion (and why was their communion on a 2nd Sunday?) was:

“The Founders of the Country were Christians.  Let Jesus in your life.”

Yup. He Did.  I have much more to say.  I’m just too pissed to type anymore.

Thanx for Reading!

Words and Sounds of my Life Vol VII: In Due Time

Just Keep Your Faith in Me, don’t act impatiently

You’ll get where you need to be, In Due Time.

Even when things are slow, Hold On and Don’t Let Go,

I’ll give you what I owe, In Due Time . . . .

I couldn’t find a song last night, that would best describe how I was feeling.  My Lil sis called me, and I couldn’t help her, because I was feeling some kind of way, about everything that was going on in my head.  So many thoughts and feelings, so much stuff that I was trying to process, and I just couldn’t deal.  But This Morning . . .

Oh Lord This Morning . . .

Someone’s status message took me right there.  I’m mad because things didn’t go my way.  That all my best laid plans didn’t work out.  I should be mad that I forgot I wasn’t in control.  It’s when I start planning things, that everything goes wrong.  I might not be a Jesus Freak, but I know that God is the Head of my Life.  So if he is, what am I doing get mad because I didn’t get my way? OBVIOUSLY, It wasn’t supposed to go that way.

Struggling’s just a part of my day
Many obstacles have been placed in my way
I know the only reason that I make it through
Is because I never stop believing in you

When I was Younger, I made things happen.  Not in a magical wand, crazy witch girl kind of way, but in the literal sense.  My classmates used to hate me, because I always got my way.  I would just SAY I wanted something to happen and it did.  Why? Because I had that kind of Faith.  I had mustard seed Faith, the blind Faith that comes before life tragedies, and life changes, and heartbreak.  The Kind of Faith that can get things done.

My Life got difficult when I started doubting my place in the world.  When I let other people tell me what I was capable of.  What I was Worthy of. When I let things other than my Faith influence my life choices.

Some people wonder why we’re here in the 1st place?
They can’t believe because they ain’t never seen your face
But even when you pray, the next day you gotta try
Can it wait 4 nobody 2 come down out the sky

No, I never expected it to fall into my lap.  I just expected it to happen.  The Secret isn’t actually a Secret . . . it’s Faith.  It’s hard to have Faith, when you look around you and can’t see where your life path is leading you.  But that is what BLIND FAITH means.  Trusting some kind of higher power to be there for you and guide you when you are lost.  Crazy thing, I’m not Lost . . . Just took a wrong turn.

You’ve got to realize that the world’s a test
You can only do your best and let him do the rest
You’ve got your life, you’ve got your health
So quit procrastinating and push it yourself

“Everything for a reason . . . ” I said that like 400 times yesterday, to justify something that didn’t go my way.  But it’s true.  Every experience I have ever had has helped me get to where I am now.  So yes, I’m kinda disappointed, but I will Live.  Because that is what the lord put me on this earth to do.

And Everything Will Get to Me . . . . In Due Time.

RNS (c) AK – Vol 15: I’m Not That One

Key Phrase: I’m Not The One

Meaning: I am Not the One to put up with Your Shullbit

This isn’t going to be a nice blog.  You should know that now.  So when you are surprised at my wording, and the way I express myself in this blog vs. everything else I have written this year, let that isht go.  Because Today, I’m not trying to subtly motivate you.  I am trying to beat you over the head with COMMON DAMN SENSE.

Fact: I am a College Graduate

You Should Be Too.  But it’s okay if you aren’t.  Everyone’s situation is different.  Sometimes, you can’t control how the cards fall financially, or based on your family.  But have you made any kind of effort to further your education? Have you taken a Community College course, hit up University of Phoenix Online, taken a cooking class? READ A BOOK?  Read a Pamphlet? Have you done anything to educate yourself after high school? Better yet, do you want to?  If we can’t hold a conversation without me having to explain every other word I type/say/text, we can’t be together.

I’m not judging you, I’m Just Not That One.

I can’t dumb myself down for you.  I enjoy conversation about current events.  This doesn’t require you to read the Wall Street Journal (hell I don’t even read that) but can you watch The Daily Show? The Colbert Report? CNN.com? Twitter? TMZ? I can’t try to make you understand simple concepts while we talk, I do that with the 4 year olds I teach everyday. #dobetter

Fact: Birds of a Feather Flock Together

What are the life goals of the people around you? What do they want to be when they grow up? Where do they see themselves in 3 years? In the same apartment, with the same female he won’t call wife/wifey? At the same job? Doing the same illegal activities? Is that okay with you? You are the dumbest smart person I have ever met.  It’s not that hard to just move the ufck on! You consistenly complain about how ignorant the people are around you, and yet you STAY around them.  So what does that say about you?

I’m not Judging You, I’m Just Not That One.

Never be complacent in a situation.  I’m not sure if it’s fear of success or fear of failure -but at 25+ you HAVE to be afraid of something to not have moved on.  If the people around don’t have the same mindset you have, they will start to rub off on you.  You used to want to get out the hood, now you like the hood mentality.  Why? Is it because it allows you to be the Big Fish in the Minuscule Pond.  Eventually, those little fish are going to attack you, and eat you, then where will you be? Dead.

Fact: You Don’t Love Him Anymore

You met the love of your live (or so you thought) at 18.  You did everything you could to be with him, and you got him.  Then you found out he wasn’t everything you wanted him to be. He didn’t love you like he said, he wasn’t who he presented himself to be, he’s a liar.  But you’re still with him? Why? You Don’t Love Him Anymore. You know he doesn’t love you. But you continue to let him back into your life.  Maybe you love the image you had in your head, not him.

I’m Not Judging You, I’m Just Not That One

If he don’t want you, he doesn’t.  The pain of rejection is so much less than the day to day pain of being in a relationship with someone who doesn’t love you.  It will take you so much less time to get over him if YOU DO IT. Because him breaking up with you is going to hurt you more.  Rip off the Bandaid, Let That NWord GO!

Fact: I’m Fat

I know it.  You know it when you see me.  But that doesn’t mean that I think less of myself for being fat.  It doesn’t mean that I have to accept less than what I deserve.  It doesn’t mean I don’t  deserve someone of a Quality Caliber in my life.  Fat does not equal sub-human or less than.  I am SO tired of women who SETTLE FOR SOMETHING, because they think it’s the best they can do.

I’m Not Judging You, I’m Just Not That One.

I Like Me.  I know what I am worth.  Call it arrogance, call it whatever you want to, but I Deserve the Best.  If you aren’t the best, then I don’t want you.  I know what I can bring to the table, if we aren’t even close to being on the same level, WHY WHY WHY WHY would I pretend that I am happy with you.  Especially if the fundamental thing that makes me ME, is being stifled.  I want to look up to whoever I am with.  I want him to inspire me to be even better than I already am. If you can’t do that, You Aren’t For Me.  & That’s Okay.

Fact: It’s Okay to be Selfish

When did it become a crime to like yourself? To just want to spend time with yourself, until you figure out exactly what you want in your life? I have a 2 bedroom apartment for a reason, because I have A Lot of Stuff.  Not because I want you to guilt me into letting you move in  – “Because you have all that room.” NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. If you live with me, I won’t have room.  You’ll eat my food out the refrigerator, make comments about me walking around topless, and get mad when I ask you to move out.

I Know You Judge Me, But I’m Not That One

I don’t want a man who wants to spend every waking moment with me.  Honestly, a long distance relationship (where both parties are emotionally invested) is exactly what I need right now.  I love you, but I don’t have to see you all the damn time. I’m socially retarded. I am using the word retarded in it’s literal sense, meaning delayed in development.  Everything I have done in life is on a 4 year Delay.  Things I should have done in Middle School = High School for Me.  What I should have found out about the world at large in College = After College Graduation.

So no, I’m not trying to marry you, or get wifed up, or be your babies mom.  I Like Myself, and if you like me too that’s great.  But I’m not ready for all that commitment because I’m not where I want to be for myself.  I can’t love you, if I don’t love myself.  I Like Me, but I haven’t fallen in love with myself  yet.  So until then, either you wait or you move on.

So In Conclusion, to use these new concepts in everyday life:

Ex 1: I’m Not the One to call when you get in a fight with your ex-wife.  I told you that ibtch was crazy, YOU told me that ibtch was crazy.  So why are you surprised that she emailed you on some Simple Isht.

Ex 2: I’m Not the One to force you to better yourself.  I shouldn’t have to tell a grown man that he needs to do better.  If you don’t have any goals and aspirations, me telling you would they should be isn’t going to make you suddently have then.

Ex 3: I’m Not the One to complain to when your boyfriend continues to show his natural azz in public.  He does what you allow him to do.  If you told him to stop doing it, and he didn’t, and you still stayed with him, that’s on you.

I Can Do Bad All By Myself/Oh Lord, I Want You to Help Me

Somebody told me once that pain is a game we all gotta play.
Then why am in over time & sudden death every other day
I know that for the good of life there’s a price we all gota pay
But ill pay till im poor and I still dont know . . . . .what it is to have a good day

I wasn’t supposed to write this blog today.  I can tell you that because BOTH my laptops stopped working, at the same time, because these words were on my heart, and I had to get them out.  And The Devil didn’t want me to.  I’m not usually the person that blames the Devil when things go wrong, but I’m going to give him ALL THE CREDIT for this one. Anyway, back to the purpose of this blog.

I lived my life  thinking, I Can Do Bad All By Myself.  I didn’t want anyone to know exactly what my issues were.  It hurts to let people know are weak.  That you can’t deal with the everyday things that most people deal with without major breakdowns.  So I lived my life, hiding the pain and the hurt and the everything else.

Freshman Year of College, 2nd day there, I had a attend the Gospel Music Workshop for the Ebony Heritage Singers.  Our Teacher sang a song that I had known all my life, In The Garden.  ON THE FLOOR CRYING. It was like God was telling me that I wasn’t alone.  That this whole time, he had been walking beside me, just waiting on me to notice.

Everything else in my life had blinded me from the one thing I needed to know, that I wasn’t alone.

You Just Don’t Wanna Know

“Now it’s true that God is always there,  He said He’d never leave.

But at times the human touch is what I need.

And if I had a dime for every time

I tried to call your name.

Some tell me, I’d be wealthy . . . “

I turned my back on a friend, in her time of need, because I really didn’t want to know.  I wasn’t able to deal with her pain, because I was living in mine.  It’s very hard to now try to mend that relationship, because I did to her what I never wanted done to me . . . I walked away.

I think the reason this movie means so much to me, is because I saw my story behind all the theatrics.

If you don’t talk about something, it will never heal.

So all these blogs I have written this year are just that, me talking about it.  ME letting it GO.  This whole healing process had been hard, because at times we don’t want to discuss how much we need the help of others.  We see crying out for help as a sign of weakness, that it someone makes up less than a person.  Because everyone you encounter seems to be perfectly capable of living their life.  Pain/Guilt/Hurt Free.

It wasn’t until I started being HONEST about the things that caused me so much pain, that I found out people I thought had a perfect life were in as much or more pain as I was. This isn’t a blog about my pain, because my pain is gone (or at least it feels that way).

This blog is about that moment, when you realize that you have done all the steps.  You  have admitted all your faults, laid yourself bare for the world to see.  Some people just don”t want to know, and you will find out who they are.  But after you have done all that then what?

Oh Lord, I Want You To Help Me.

You can’t ask the Lord to Heal You.  He doesn’t have a magic healing wand.  You can’t ask God to just make it go away, then wait on him to do all the work.  Just out of your friends, how many people do you know who call on God everyday? He’s got so much work to do.  He can’t be the principle person in your recovery.

“I pray every night girl, and it just doesn’t seem to get better.”

My question to you is, What Are You Praying For? What are you asking of the Lord? Because he can’t make you forget the pain.  He can’t make you forget the times when you felt all alone in the world.  He can’t make it go away.

But He Can Help You.

He can be In The Garden, standing beside you, to be a SUPPORT system when you falter.  But You have to do it yourself. You have to take those steps, The Lord will NEVER push you on your way.  That’s not the Kind of God he is.  If you have tried your friends, and they don’t seem to be able to help you get there, then you are going it alone.

You spent your life hiding behind your pain, and your hurt, and your issues.  So maybe hiding isn’t the solution.  You NEVER know who can relate to your story.  You never know who can fully understand your pain.  So be honest, and ASK FOR HELP.

Not a Quick Fix.


I got Help, from people who don’t even know they helped me.  At times when it seemed the most inappropriate time to ask for help.

“Help Me On My Journey,

Help Me on My Way,

Oh Lord, I Want You To Help Me.”

I met someone this year, who changed my outlook on a lot of things, in a very short period of time.  I tell him all the time, I am so glad I met him.  I don’t know if he knows how very glad I am.  He gave me a reason to share my story, the TRUTH of my story. To be honest about where I have been, and how far I have come.  Even more so, he reminded me how far I have to go.

I Thank You For That . . . You Know who You Are.

Late Night Ramblings of 2010 #4: Filling the Void/Closing the Gap

Last year, I wrote a note on FB called  Pieces of Me. I strongly suggest you check it out before reading this, because this is actually a continuation of that note.

You never know when someone can change your life.  You also never know when you will be the person to change a stranger’s life.  In the conversations I have had with people this year, one thing that seems to become more and more obvious is that a lot of people are walking around with Pieces Missing.  We go about our days, making due with what we have.

Some of us have those late nights when the emptiness becomes too much to handle, and we can’t help but have a breakdown.  One of those nights when you can’t sleep, because every thought you have ever had about your life is running through your head.  You are trying your hardest to Fake it Until you Make It.  But in the loneliness of your thoughts, you have to come face to face with the Void that exists within you.

Today, I admitted to {for all intents and purposes} a complete stranger, that for most of my life, I filled that Void with food.  I had never even admitted that to MYSELF. The void left in me by my relationship with my father was a large one.  It’s affected every relationship I have ever tried to have.  The pain that comes from the constant rejection of someone who is SUPPOSED to love you is often times unbearable.

People who have never experienced that pain will try to tell you, “But God Loves You.” or “All You need is Gods Love, he will fill that Void.” They are wrong.  Disagree with me if you want, but they won’t know what that feels like.  To look at how your parent(s) treat other people, and know that you don’t get that same love.

People in Arizona respect my father.  They tell me all the time what a great man my father is.

They are talking about the same man who told me I was never going to amount to anything, because my mother raised me.  The hypocrisy of who my father has become is awe-inspiring.  He’s a Member in Good Standing at his church.  He runs the entire Jail Ministry.  He spends more time with Inmates than he ever did with his own children.  This is my father.  This is the man whose name will be tied to mine until I get married.

I gained about 40 pounds while I lived with him.  The Void was looking me in the face for 11 months.  I was deemed less than, unimportant, and finally a burden while I lived with him.  The only person who understood what that felt like was my mother, because she had lived it as well.  Much of my fathers dislike for me is based on his feelings for my mother.  He was punishing me for what he deemed my mother’s transgressions.

So why did I move to Arizona in the first place?

Because I was tired of being broken.

I was tired of hating myself because of what someone else had told me was a flaw.  I was tired of filling the Void with Food, and Sex, and wrongly invested attachments.  I was tired of searching for love from all the wrong people.  I came here because I wanted to see if I could forgive my father for the hurt he caused.  Having hate in your heart doesn’t hurt the other person, it hurts you.

I had to Close the Gap. I had to take all those feelings of Abandonment, and Unworthiness, and Self-Loathing, and examine them.

It would have been great if I could have done that in a week, then found a Job, and moved on with my life, but it took a year.  Living in a hostile environment can bring out the best or the worst in a person.

Thankfully, it brought out the Best in Me. It brought out the Writer in Me.  It brought out the Singer in Me.  It brought out the Public Speaker in Me. It brought out the Beauty in Me.  It brought out the Child of God in Me.

After the late night walks, and tears, and late night phone conversations, I survived.

I write this for all those people who don’t know if they can make it.  Who see themselves in a place of such darkness that they can’t fathom coming out on the other side.  For those of you who have a pain so deep inside, you can’t seem describe it in words.  For those of us who cry ourselves to sleep every night, and beg the Lord for a release from this pain.

You can Fill the Void.  You can Close the Gap.  Be strong in YOU.  Remember what YOU want for yourself.  Remember your Goals.  Keep your GOALS in a visible place, so that you can have a reminder, that it’s not going to be like this forever.

You can survive.  You WILL survive.

Because I Did.  For a long time, I didn’t know if I would.  But I Did.

And So Will You.

Confessions of a Single Black Female Vol 10: What These Bitches Want from a Nigga

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Arf Arf! Ayo B**ch! What’s the answer . .. the #4!

. . . DMX really wanted to know. I wonder if anyone ever told him.

Matter of Fact, I wonder if females are ever really honest with themselves about what they want. RNS, do men really want to know what we want? All the men I have ever been completely honest with, I have scared away. Men, don’t ask the question if you aren’t ready for the answer.

So as the unofficial spokesperson for Single Black Females everywhere, I am going to answer your question DMX, with as much honesty as I can, 10 years later . . .

1) A Father Figure

The difference between a Woman and a Lil’ Girl is where they call their man Daddy. The Bedroom or the Grocery Store. All these lil girls calling folks Daddy while he’s on his job and when they go out to eat, it’s a cry for help. I like being told what to do . . . IN THE BEDROOM. You telling me how to run my life isn’t going to go over well at all, unless I asked you what you thought about my choices. Can you take charge without walking all over me?

2) A Teacher

I want you to lead and guide me. I want you to introduce me to things I have never experienced before. What do I look like showing you the best restaurants, places to travel, whats going on in the town we both live in. I know what I Like. That’s Why I Like It! I want you to show me something new, make me step outside my box, and explore the world around me. Can you guide me to new things, without forcing me to do things that make me uncomfortable. Do you know the difference between Teacher and Student? Would you be willing to switch roles from time to time?

3) A Soldier

I want you to protect me. I want to feel safe whenever I am with you. Be it in the club, at the grocery store, during a thunderstorm – I want to feel like My Man Has My Back. The Physicality of that statement notwithstanding, can you protect me from the outside world? Can you be my Superman? Or when the worries of the world – my emotional Kryptonite – comes crashing down to Earth, will you falter in the face of adversity. Can you be strong enough to hold me up, when I am ready to fall? Will you help me fight all my battles: Emotional and Spiritual. Or does that Scare You?

4) A Best Friend/Counselor

We don’t have to trade hair secrets. But will you be there for me when I need a friend? Can I come to you before I go to anyone else to discuss my fears? Can we laugh and joke at anything? Can we stand in the mall and laugh at the weird couples? Do you look forward to the time we spend together? Can I cry on your shoulder, even when you are the person that made me cry? Is the best part of your day, just sitting on the couch with me watching 24 or Grey’s or the OSU Football Game? I don’t want to be your only friend, but I should be your Best Friend.

5) A Spiritual Adviser

If you don’t know A God , let alone My God, how am I going to be able to grow spiritually? Can we talk about our opinions on religion without judging each other? You don’t have to declare a religion, but you do have to believe there is a higher power that has control of our lives. Can you come to church with me, and not be ashamed of what we do at home? Can you defend your faith among those that don’t believe? Are you kind of person who judges those who don’t believe in a higher power? Do you censor your emotions based on what you have been told to believe? How firm are your religious convictions? Does my father having Rev. in front of his name make you nervous?

6) An Orator

Conversation is the world’s greatest aphrodisiac. Can you express yourself without using profanity all the time? Can we talk on the phone for hours, without running out of things to say? Can you convey your level of intelligence without making other people, including me, feel stupid? Can you hold a conversation with the Benetton Ad that is my family without being nervous? Can you turn me on Linguistically? Can you use words to convey exactly how you feel about me? (The words Wanna and F*ck not included)

7) A Musician

You don’t have to be able to sing. You don’t have to be able to play a instrument. You don’t even have to have an extensive music collection. But do you know something about music? Do you understand my love of Motown? Do you know the difference between Hip-Hop and Rap? Do you know who Sam Cooke is? Do you know any song by Donny Hathaway other than A Song For You? Will it piss you off if I play Limp Bizkit at 8 in the morning? Have you ever owned a Hootie and the Blowfish LP? Do you judge me because I have?

8) A Provider

Not to be confused with a Sugar Daddy. I don’t want you to pay my bills, I don’t want you to pay for me to get my hair and nails done. I’m not looking for a Pimp, I’m looking for a Provider. Do you have a Career? Any man can have a job, but do you have a business card? One that your company ordered for you? Do you have health benefits? Because Mine are Sho’ Nuff the Bomb! If you have children, do you provide for them, or do you only do what Friend of the Court says you must? Are you a dependable person? Can I depend on you in a time of crisis, not for financial support, but as a support system. But if I need financial support, will you offer it before I have to ask? Will you make me sign a promissory note about when I will be returning it to you?

9) A Diary

Can I tell you my fears? Can I tell you my shameful secrets, and not be afraid that you will walk away? Do you understand what I mean when I say, “For your Ears Only?” Will your friends know my business? Will you keep our relationship sacred, not to be violated by those who might be jealous? Or, will you give them ammunition they need to destroy us by telling them all the little things I do that bother you? Will you let me be your diary? Will you trust me enough, to show me your weaknesses? Do you have enough respect for me to abide by the, “What Happens in the Bedroom Stays in the Bedroom” Mantra?

10) Mr. Sandman

Can you put me to sleep? Can you take your time with me, spend hours trying to figure out the best way to bring me pleasure? Can you be my teacher, help me in those areas that I might be lacking? Can you tell me what you like, without fear of being called a Freak? Can I tell you what I Like, without fear of the same? Can we experiment, testing our boundaries slowly and thoroughly? But can you tell when the time for sensitivity is over? Can you provide the Good Dick Down, and make me wanna clean the house and make tacos?

Did I answer your question DMX? Do you now know, What Women Want? Hope This Helped . . .

*The Title had you thinking this was about something TOTALLY different, didn’t it? . . . Never Judge a Book by It’s Cover . . .*

Comments/Questions/Concerns are always welcomed.