I’ve been an active user of the Influenster app for a few years and they always give me access to some dope products periodically. Recently they sent me a Spring Box with three great items.
Item #1. Smashmallow Chocolate Chip marshmallow. This sample was a great snack but I think the product is especially versatile for baking because not only is it good for marshmallow uses but the chocolate chips baked in gives it an awesome twist.
Item #2. Gold Bond Ultimate Age Defense Moisturizer. Gold Bond has already been established as a trust worthy and great moisturizing product, adding the age defense is just another bonus for women who spend a lot of time in the sun.
Item #3. Lemi Shine Dishwasher tabs. Let’s be honest, no one wants to spend their time hand washing dishes at all. So I was pleased to get this product that keeps me from doing so. Thus far with the product, I don’t have to pre or post wash the dishes, it cleans all of my plates and flatware that I use daily.
The entire Spring Vox Box has been a heaven sent and if you want to focus on the detergent tabs, it’s a heaven scent. I love being an influenster.
Greetings all! My it has been such a long time hasn’t it? I’ve been incredibly busy working a 9 to 5 and promoting my novel that I totally neglected my blogging duties. I feel awful about that, so please forgive me. With that being said, let’s discuss something else that has been awful, which is that bitch Rona. Yes, the Coronavirus, non-affectionately nicknamed Rona. Since March 13th, my life has changed drastically, some things have been refreshing while others have been extremely depressing. I like to think of the first ten days as Rona telling me to sit down.
Rona said sat down somewhere!
In the beginning, I was naive enough to think this would only last for a couple of weeks. I would have to work from home after Spring Break and it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, so I did my best to make the best of it. My line sisters and I would have Facetime dates and I’d even come to terms with canceling my Spring Break trip to Houston with my friends. I was even rejoicing in the fact that I’d smartly purchased travel insurance and I’d be able to get a full refund. Ain’t God good? I even looked at this inconvenience as an opportunity to work on my waistline and started to hit the park daily for a minimum of 3 miles, in a quest to be healthy. As you can see, I was making lemonade with the bowl full of lemons that the universe was dishing out. However one must remember that lemonade can still wind up sour. By the 11th day, I’d developed a blister on my poorly manicured feet due to increased exercise and closed nail salons. The lemonade was indeed starting to sour.
Rona drove me a little crazy!
I don’t know the exact statistics of millennials like me who suffer from anxiety, but I’m willing to bet nearly half of people my age suffer from anxiety on a regular basis, especially if they’ve achieved a four year degree and are trying to maintain a career in this dog eat dog world that was made a mess by the baby boomers. Well not only did the blister form on the 11th day but my anxiety did as well. I can’t go anywhere! I’m off work and I can’t hop in the ride and go to Nashville to see my friends…. I can’t see my momma! That last one hit me the hardest, I mean I see my mom once a month anyways because of work, but not being able to just pop up on her whenever I want was making me anxious. Anyone that knows me personally, knows that my mom is my everything, that’s my girl, that’s my bestie. So I leaned on what my bestie always told me to do when times get rough, prayer. During this time, I prayed pretty much around the clock, three or four times a day to get me through the anxious feeling of helplessness and being caged in. I’m a free spirit and being confined is something that doesn’t interest me in any capacity. Many people are still walking this earth because I don’t want to do time and that’s real. With the prayer, I continued to try and make the best out of things. The social media world had started to embrace a new form of entertainment, on April 4th, we got the epic battle of T-Pain versus Lil John, so things were starting to look up. I’d diminished my anxiety with prayer and music. My happiness was also punctuated with the fact that our family grew with the birth of my great-nephew, August.
Rona said listen!
The last stage of what Rona is doing to me began on April 7th. It’s amazing how your sixth sense can kick and you can tell when something is about to shift or when something is coming. Well on the night of April 6th, I had a devil of a time trying to sleep. The devil was surely on his way, over into April 6th turning into April 7th, I got a text from the ex. ***insert eternal side eye*** I’m not even going to elaborate on what the text said, it’s not worth it, but that Rona was making everyone reflect huh? I reflected on a lot. I started to be a bit more thankful. First of all, even though I really miss human contact and even human touch, I am so grateful that I’m not quarantined with the ex or any ex. Thank God! My heart goes out to anyone who’s quarantined with someone they’re not too fond of right now. I started to hear God more through the solitude. He’s been speaking to me a lot about the future and when all of this is over, I have some major decisions to make. But most important, I learned that those decisions are between only God and me.
Greetings all! I pray that you’ve been having an eventful spring and that your sinuses and allergies haven’t been much of a nuisance. I wish I could say the same, but I won’t dwell on that. Today I choose to discuss new beginnings in our personal lives. The title of this post is “Don’t Let Me Hit You”, which I hear all of the time in my new kickboxing class. You see it’s the mantra of one of the instructors/trainers that forces me to keep my hands up as I am executing moves. I’ve done kickboxing before so I’m quite used to the direction that she’s giving me however I still hear it in class as I get a little fatigued and want to drop by hands a bit. The reason I chose it as a title today is because oftentimes in our personal lives because of things we’ve encountered in the past, we already have our guards up as a defense mechanism.
I’ve come to the realization that in dating, although I don’t have real baggage like an ex-husband, children, baby’s fathers or major stumbling blocks, I do have slight baggage like trust issues and allowing myself to be vulnerable. That allowing myself to be vulnerable is the biggest issue. I mean society alone tells me as a black woman I have to be strong and that I shouldn’t be successful while my family has always made me be strong, independent and demanded nothing but success. Those realizations alone have contributed to my reluctance to let my guard down and be potentially hindered by being hurt by the opposite sex. I know that I should be open to letting someone love and care for me but it’s hard with the state of dating in this day and age. It’s sometimes a full-time job trying to determine if a person is truly genuine.
I have a specific prayer to God when it comes to finding love: Heavenly Father, send me someone who is a reflection of me, send me someone who fears you, who’s handsome, ambitious, adventurous, caring, loving and someone who I can explore with. Dear Lord, please send me someone with no children but if he is a father, make it to no more than two with one baby mother. Amen.
Yes, that is my prayer, my daily prayer. My specifics are methodical. I want someone that I can have fun with and that I actually enjoy. Too often, I see couples who are just going through the motions, they don’t even like one another. I want someone that I’m attracted to and that I crave, ambitious like me, because what’s better than one millionaire? Two. Caring and loving are important because a relationship should be complete with two givers, neither should be a taker and if I wake up one day and I couldn’t explore, it’s no reason for me to still be taking up space on this planet. I would love a male version of myself because the love that I give to my friends and family is limitless so imagine if I had someone who was a reflection of me. It’s funny because my mother always says “Ashley’s going to wind up with either a white guy or an old man”, it’s ironic because she knows me but she doesn’t know me as much as she thinks she does. White guy, possibly, I’m not knocking that, but he must fit into those categories that I’ve prayed to God about. Also, older men, I don’t see it happening unless he fits into those categories as well because quite simply some of them are so set in their ways that adventure is way out of the question. I’ve come to the conclusion over the years that no one knows what’s best for me but me and God.
Social media and the internet has hurt dating so badly over the years that it’s sometimes impossible to even get guys to come up to you. You can be out with your friends looking as fine as you could possibly muster, make eye contact with a guy and he just looks at you. Literally. He just looks at you. If you’re lucky, they’ll smile, but it’s like they’re waiting on you to make a move. A lot of women make the move, I am ashamed to say that 9 times out of 10, I just don’t. I have my reasons, some of which I’m not exactly proud of, but hell I’m a woman. Sue me. A few weeks ago, I was out with my line sister/friend and a guy came up to me. A handsome guy. A young, handsome, guy. A young, handsome, chocolate, guy. A young, handsome, chocolate, single guy with no children. I literally almost whipped my neck around to make sure there wasn’t a light-skinned woman behind me that he was actually talking to. If you know me personally, you’d know my shock stems from the fact that I’m chocolate and usually I’m the light-skinned magnet as it pertains to black men. The light brights always find me. Well whenever men find me. Needless to say, the day was dope.
So fast-forward weeks later, I’ve gotten acquainted with the young man and I like him. But wait, don’t tell him that. See, you see where that vulnerability and always having my guard up thing rears it’s ugly head. Sometimes I am deathly afraid of wasting time or becoming one of those bitter women that are serial daters and always coming up short. I know that I’m not in kickboxing class and I’ve got to let my guard down, but some habits are hard to break. I had to even catch my crazy ass last week when I was struggling to tell him that I wanted to see him again. Like really Ashley, really? Why is it so much easier for me to tell my homegirl that I miss her but not a guy that appears to be the literal embodiment of what I’ve been wanting. Well it’s simple, I don’t want to be hit. Metaphorically speaking, I don’t want to be clobbered but I can do the clobbering. Isn’t that disheartening? That is what dating has subjected me to doing, constantly with my guard up. Sometimes it’s exhausting. Well I pledge to do better and even if me and the chocolate Adonis don’t make it. I’ll be alright and continue with my prayer all the while allowing God to fight these dating battles for me.
It’s been three years since I lost one of the best friends I ever had. Truth be told, he taught me how to put my hands up a lot. He and I could talk about our relationship issues together and come up with ways to deal with some of the issues to diminish the pain. But the pain of missing him never gets easier, I just learn to deal with it more. This month, on Mother’s Day, I did what I always do, I honored his mother, she sent me thanks. I am thankful for the thanks, but I don’t do it for that. I do it because I had a real, caring and supportive friend and that never dies even when we’re no longer here. So as I always say, Rest in love, EJ. I’m learning to let that guard down more because I know you’re watching out for me up there.
Hello World. I wanted to share with you all what I’ve been up to. About a week ago, I finally uploaded my manuscript, Bryce August, The Beginning to Amazon Kindle Publishing for release. This has been one great, amazing, scary journey. If you are a regular reader of this blog, you know that writing is my passion but learning how to make your ideas come alive isn’t always easy. For years, I have struggled with trying to find the right way to publish and many other things. So this post is meant to discuss my project and give my readers information towards checking my project out.
What is Bryce August, The Beginning about?
Bryce August is the main character of the book and he’s telling the story of his life. He’s a 21 year old college student who’s a part of a prominent black family who’s held onto generational wealth for years by arranging all of the marriages in their families. He’s faced with a dilemma of going against the family norm and risking his birthright and inheritance.
What Genre Does Bryce August, The Beginning fall under?
Bryce August is an erotic romance novel, it’s a love story but there are a lot of racy elements in the story that are not suitable for those under the age of 18 and those who aren’t comfortable reading about sex.
We are gathered here to lament the traditional, pure memory of romance. As it’s been watered down and diluted that the idea of it in its purest form has become a flicker and a whisper of its former being.
This precious beautiful idea has been marred by technology, social media and the acceptance of low expectations. Join me as I eulogize this half-dead illusion. Let’s us rejoice in these romantic song lyrics.
“We were lovers through and through and though we made it through the storm, I really want you to realize, I really want to put you on, I’ve been searching for someone to satisfy my every need, won’t you be my inspiration and be the real love that I need.” -Mary J. Blige.
These immortal words are the lyrics of the iconic Mary J. Blige and her iconic song, “Real Love” of the timeless “What’s the 411?” album. These were the types of lyrics that were the soundtrack of our ideas of love as 80s babies, however now as 80s babies, we are millennials in a world where this 90s R&B feel isn’t in the pursuit of love anymore, which makes me wonder, what happened to romance? Was it murdered? If so, who killed it? Who will be the love detective who solves this mystery?
This lovely notion of romance didn’t just stop at the music we listened to, it was in the movies we loved and recited through poetry. “I gather up each sound you left behind and stretch them on our bed. Each night I breathe you and become high”, those words were uttered by Nia Long as Nina Mosely in the movie Love Jones, words that she quoted from Harlem Renaissance writer and Afro-icon, Sonia Sanchez. With romantic contributors such as Mary J. Blige and Sonia Sanchez highlighting the beauty and complexities of love no wonder those like me are completely devoid of the notion because, in today’s world, things just aren’t like that.
My ideas of love and romance as a teenager and then college student were illuminated by the sounds of men who sang about the beauty of loving a woman even through heartbreak. I grew up believing that a man should formally ask a woman on a date (LL Cool J, Hey Lover) and even call her to have a meaningful conversation leading up to the encounter. My thoughts are that men are supposed to make the date, be on time, and give the woman their undivided attention during the encounter. Wow? I sound archaic huh? Even though I’m only 34.
The reality isn’t that dreamy nowadays.
Men don’t call, they text…. They text all damn day!
They don’t ask you out, they DM or attempt to FaceTime.
They don’t make real dates and give undivided attention, what is that?
This reality is so sad, no wonder the world of love is so jaded, romance is seemingly dead. Or it’s been completely watered down. So what is the cause of such?
What has happened that has allowed people to deem all of this as acceptable?
When did “wyd” suffice as picking up the phone and admitting that you’d been thinking of a person all day? Hell even if I’m lying, the entire notion is beautiful.
What happened to true romance?
Now, I don’t mean that a man has to spend tremendous amounts of money in pursuit of the notion however the effort is what I’m referring to as of now. The effort just isn’t there. Nor do I mean that the entire notion is just confined to the male species. I can be quite romantic to a deserving man. So again, what happened?
Of course, my ideas on the tragic disappearance of romance would be futile, if I didn’t ask the men in my circle their ideas on the matter. On an engaging Sunday afternoon at a dear friend of mine’s new home, I asked several men what they thought about the fleeting idea of romance.
There were several retorts about it that included that women are too independent nowadays, the idea of submission is extinct and the effort is sometimes chastised by the women so a lot of men don’t even bother to try. All of their opinions were valid and I didn’t disagree with anything that they said. Although I have some extended ideas about that whole thing about “submission” but that’s an extensive topic for a different day.
Truth be told, I believe that romance is an endangered species, not completely dead but the attempted assassination of this precious thing can be attributed to so many murderous factors but romance can be resurrected.
With all of that being said, one must understand that romance is subjective, multi-faceted, full of possibilities.
For me, romance is simple.
Calling me just to hear my voice.
Planning something different, because spontaneity is the spice of life.
Texting me while you know I’m dead asleep all of the things about me that you love, admire and respect.
Bringing me dinner after a long day.
Sending me a poem of how I make you feel.
Asking me to go workout with you.
Bookmarking a book that I’m reading with a note.
Leaving me your favorite hoodie to borrow for a while.
Actually talking to me.
Sending me a song/playlist on Spotify.
Leaving a single flower on my doorstep with a note.
Riding through the city listening to trap music.
Initiating a pillow fight.
You see gentlemen, romance doesn’t have to expensive, nor does it have to be complex, but coming from a busy, ambitious, millennial woman, I’m telling you, it’s still needed. With the right woman, of course, your efforts will be appreciated.
This past January marked three years since I lost my dear friend EJ, it has been extremely difficult, each day doesn’t get easier, just go by. Things are especially challenging when you have those around you are ingenuine. So I’ve been removing those show themselves as such. Just like we should be in love with our significant others, we need to love our friends too. If you don’t have friends around you who loved you the way my friend EJ did, I feel sorry for you. He was real, he was raw and he stayed true. Not too many people can do and show love while being true to themselves. Rest in Love, dear sweet friend.
Greetings all! 2019 is here. I declare that this year will be glorious! We will succeed in every way conceivable. I love the New Year. It gives us a legitimate reason to reflect on the year that has passed and think about how we can improve or tweak things that need such. I try not to make New Year’s resolutions as they are almost always unsuccessful. Instead, I just strive to do better. Last year, I vowed to open up to my friends more and I think I did a good job. This year, I strive to just go harder in every way possible. Of course, you know 2016, 2017 and 2018 owes me a boyfriend. LOL! You know I had to throw it in there. But we’ll reflect on that another day. Today, I choose to reflect on accountability and why it’s so important.
Personally, I think that a lot of people are not successful in their New Year’s resolution or other goals due to a lack of accountability. As an educator, accountability is a word that I know all too much about. Accountability in one’s career is important but I believe it is much more important in one’s personal life. The lack of self-accountability is the main culprit with our unsuccessful pursuits, but exactly where is accountability needed the most whether it’s accountability of one’s self or others.
“Accountability feels like an attack when you aren’t ready to admit and own up to your transgressions.”
Too often in the black community, we do not hold ourselves accountable, for even the smallest things. I mean think about it, how often growing up did our parents actually apologize to us when they made a mistake? Not too often, they just carried on. No one held them accountable for an apology. When there was a boy or girl in the neighborhood who was a known bully, how many times did anyone make them accountable for the terror that they delivered to the innocent? Almost never. Our ideas of accountability in that aspect was to dethrone the bully with another tyrant. We aren’t even accountable with our food choices even after we know better. We know that we are genetically predisposed to diabetes and hypertension but still every holiday season we are scarfing down chitterlings and all of the other things that we shouldn’t be ingesting coupled with a regular diet that is just plain unhealthy. All of this is due to a lack of accountability. Come on people we have to do better. With all of that being said, I think the largest deficit of accountability is how we treat others.
Accountability with Friends and the Opposite Sex
Accountability is defined as the quality or state of being accountable which is the acceptance of responsibility for one’s actions. It sounds simple once you read the definition, but I’m telling you to put it into action requires one to put on their adult drawers and recognize that you have to be as responsible for your wrongs as much as you are for your rights. With personal reflection, I have realized that many of us are not being accountable with the relationships that we are a part of. First and foremost, getting some people to apologize is like getting Jacquees to admit that he is not the King of R&B, it’s downright impossible. Did I pronounce his name right? Eh, who cares? You get it.
You will have people in your life that you call friends and they do sh*t to you that you know they wouldn’t want to be done to them. Then when you call them out on it, they’d rather avoid you than to apologize. This is all due to their lack of accountability, more importantly, the lack of a desire to be held accountable. Doesn’t that seem crazy to you? These will be the same people who will cry “victim, victim, victim” whenever someone commits an infraction against them.
It’s called being an adult to get called out on your sh*t and own up to it. Look, I did it, I was wrong, I’m sorry and I’ll do my best not to let it happen again.
I have witnessed female friends who will not support their friend when she’s embarking upon a new journey or venture but that same friend is there for every milestone, birthday, baby shower, etc. Truth be told, I have been the girl who’s supportive but when it comes down to me, my “friends” fall short. True to form, those less than supportive friends would rather avoid the backlash and then all of a sudden they disappear. Friendship shouldn’t be a one-sided journey. If you are that friend who is doing most of the giving, call these people out and if they cannot be accountable for their actions, then it’s time to leave them where they are. They aren’t worthy right now, they don’t want to be accountable and pretty soon, karma, the cousin will be on the horizon for them.
The same goes with the opposite sex. Hold these people accountable. There are some things that people shouldn’t have to put up with. If your significant other isn’t supportive, call them out on it. If your significant other is harsh with their actions and words, call them out on it. If they are doing anything that you do not like and is detrimental, call them out on it. If they cannot own it and change their behavior, then do you really need to be in a relationship with that person? My last observation when it comes to accountability with the opposite sex and with friends is this, why is that women would rather forgive their man for an infraction, but as soon as their friends make a mistake, it’s unforgivable? With men, it’s just the opposite, they will forgive their boys in a New York minute but punish their lover for wrongdoings. That’s very interesting and crazy.
Dealing with family can be tricky. Depending on the family member, you don’t want to be disrespectful and no matter what you do, they are always family. With that being said, you shouldn’t let family members off of the hook for doing shady sh*t whether it’s dealing directly with you or others. For instance, if you have a cousin whom you’re close with and he/she isn’t the best parent, challenge them to be a better parent. No one wants to be in the village anymore but the reality is, you ARE in the village, hell we all are. Your family’s lack of accountability may result in a less than desirable situation. How often have you heard of a crime being committed and then hearing from a family member that they aren’t surprised by the behavior? Whenever I hear that I wonder two things: Did someone call them out on their sh*t and were they accountable for their wrongdoings? I will guarantee you that the answer to both of those questions is no and no.
Regardless if a person is a relative or not, we must hold one another accountable. If they owe you money, call them out on it. If they have the tendency of putting their children off on people frequently, call them out on it. If they are constantly seeking support from family members, but not reciprocating, call them out on it. Trust me, it’s needed. Do it with love but do it.
Accountability with Yourself
This one is the hardest to deal with by far. We all know this. If this wasn’t the case, no one would make the same New Years Resolution every single year. It’s a hard pill to swallow but if you cannot swallow it, you won’t ever reach your full potential. Two years ago, I took it upon myself to make sure I apologize whenever I was doing something wrong, no matter how small it was. That level of accountability was small but it moved mountains for me because not only did it help me to build better relationships with those around me but it opened my eyes to others who aren’t as accountable as they could be. If you cannot call yourself out on your own sh*t, how can you call someone else out on theirs? Everyone makes mistakes, everyone, no one is exempt. Deal with it.
In conclusion, own your sh*t. Fix your sh*t. It’s just that simple because if you wouldn’t want it done to you, don’t you do it to someone else and if by chance you make a mistake and do it, own it. Trust me, it makes all of the difference in any kind of a relationship. I’d rather be friends with someone who genuinely cares about being there for me than a narcissist who only cares about themselves and the same thing goes for a relationship. When it comes to family, you can’t really get rid of them but you can definitely move differently if they aren’t being held accountable. No one is aiming to be confrontational or combative, accountability is meant to elevate. Come on, it’s 2019 people, do better.
January is a hard month for me. Last year on the 5th, my cousin Bridgett had a terrible accident, by the grace of God, she’s rehabilitating, is on the mend. The absolute worst thing about January is the anniversary of losing my dear, departed friend, EJ. I dedicate every blog to him because I miss him so much. EJ was one of those friends who would call you on your sh*t and I thank God every day that I had him as a friend. Rest in Love sweet friend, I miss you.
Hello all! I pray that the Fall has been good to you already. For me, it’s been a bit of fun as usual but also a lot of hard work. I’m proud to report that I’ve hired someone to proofread my first manuscript and I’m working on the second manuscript in my fictional series. Now how I’m going to publish such is another story. With all of that being said, as I work on my professional accomplishments I always try and reflect a bit on my personal life or lack thereof. Above you see a meme that I posted earlier this week on my social media pages and it’s sparked my post of today. For those of you that are listening instead of reading the post, the meme simply states “It’s hard being a girl and real nigga at the same time”, now I changed the “N” word for the sake of the title and for those of you who aren’t black, I’m sure you have some ideas about what that means, but in case you are clueless I’m going to break it down. That word has a lot of connotations, a lot of which are negative but within the African-American community, we are great at flipping things and sometimes within the context of the conversation we can mean that in a positive way when referring to oneself. Nevertheless, I’ll give you some synonyms on what that means in this context. You can substitute the word with either of the following: chick, intelligent person, a person that isn’t for games or simply real again. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let me elaborate as to how that plays into my life as of now.
My approach to dating is the same as it is with my overall standard of living. I work hard, I play hard, I’m straightforward, I am caring, I don’t like a lot of pretenses and I am a true romantic. I have a romantic outlook on a lot of things. I think life is an adventure which is why I am enamored with traveling and experiencing new settings. Nothing is more flowery to me than doing something that I’ve never done before or going somewhere I’ve never been before. However just as you cannot leave the country without your passport, one cannot get to the romantic side of me without being real. My walls cannot crumble if I can’t trust you. Therefore, I reflect what I expect. I am a real chick. I want you to be real with me. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Don’t send me mixed messages. By mixed messages I mean, saying that you want to see someone but all you do is text, you say you want to see a girl but you don’t ever plan an opportunity to see her. WTF? It’s hard being a real nigga and a girl at the same time because a lot of women will let this ish go on and on and on and on…. but yours truly, naw.
I won’t be all needy and clingy and girly about the matter. I’ll even speak when you see me but when you ask me what’s up? I’m going to explicitly tell you what’s up.
Them versus me
The typical girl allows you to tell her a blatant lie, I won’t. I’ll call you out on it, you’re not being truthful. There it is.
The typical girl stalks your page. I simply pay closer attention to whom you’re giving your social media attention to. Whose posts are you liking, commenting on and interacting with?
The typical girl is content with those “good morning” texts and messages all damn day but I am not. Especially if that’s all you’re doing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to know I’m on your mind but who else is on your mind? I can send multiple “good morning” texts just like you can.
The typical girl will get violent when you do her wrong and do all of these ludicrous things to your belongings and you while I’m very different. Meaning I will do nothing. Trust me, nothing resonates quite loudly and it does a lot of damage because as I do nothing, I will also isolate myself from you and deny you the gift that is me, trust me, I’m a gift.
The typical girl wants you to have her all over your page and put on appearances for the masses while I’m not that girl. I just want something that is real. Truly real, if you want to post me, post me, but don’t post me and then be lying to me and making me look like a damn fool because I’m not here for that at all. Whenever I’m not here for something, I’m gone in every sense of the word.
The reality of what my love life has gone like lately can be summed up in a similar exchange:
Men: Women should tell us what they want.
Me: This is explicitly what I want. (Provides a literal step by step list)
Men: What do you want?
Me: I just told you and provided a list.
Men: I mean, I’m sorry, I can’t figure out what I did wrong.
Me: Okay. **Exits stage left**
The true reality is that many men say that want a girl who doesn’t like drama, who is explicit about her wants, who is determined, who is faithful, who is beautiful, who is smart and who will enrich their lives but is it what they’re ready for? They aren’t. They are so used to the turmoil, drama, and dysfunction so much that they don’t even realize it. Therefore when they are faced with a girl who’s also a real nigga, they don’t know what to do?
I had a friend, he was also a real nigga and he left a daughter on this earth, a daughter who I saw turn 8 on last week. I am so glad that I can be there for her but I certainly wish he was still here in the physical form for all of us. I miss you my dear friend E.J. and just know that each day without you, is a little less bright, because you were a light to us all.
Greetings all! Fall is upon us whenever summer decides to take its leave. I think everyone will be glad when summer decides to depart. As summer is trying its best to hang on, so is my single status. LOL! You knew it was coming. Blog after blog, post after post, my singleness has not changed but my insight has shifted.
I will not sacrifice my spirit for a man.
I will repeat that again.
I will not sacrifice my spirit for a man.
As time passes, days turn into nights, weeks into months and months into seasons there are times when I’m concerned with being in a relationship but more often than not, I’m not concerned. What I’m more concerned with is my spirit. When was the last time you ever just wondered or pondered about your spirit? The double-edged sword that comes with being alone, is being alone. Sometimes you love it and sometimes the quiet is loud and it gives you the opportunity to really reflect. Reflection is good.
My spirit is enigmatic. There are times when my spirit is loud, it’s rambunctious and restless. I want to travel, explore and do hoodrat shit with my friends and it’s glorious. Many of my best memories are built from the enigma that is me. You can’t put me into a box, I won’t fit.
My spirit is discerning. I read vibes, I listen to my body, my heart, my mind, and thus my spirit moves accordingly. Everyone doesn’t deserve the privilege of being near me because we’re not traveling in similar paths in life. I think it’s selfish to take up or entertain someone that you know you can’t get down with. Listen to the signs. They are there for a reason.
My spirit is nurturing. To the people who are in my life, they will tell you that it’s something in my spirit that makes sure that I take care of those who I love, even when they don’t necessarily return the favor. I am the friend who will have all of the necessities in my purse for a night out, I am the friend that will make sure you eat physically and metaphorically and who will put your wants before that of my own. With that being said, my spirit loves to nurture, but my spirit cannot be trampled.
My spirit is sensual. I embrace my feminity straight from the motherland punctuated by melanin shining on the surface and rooted in the truth of my goodness. My sensuality isn’t to be shared with just anyone.
So again, I won’t sacrifice my spirit for a man. But my spirit will be adorned by a king.
I have come to the realization that I just may wind up alone for the rest of my life because what I desire in a king may not be in the environment in which I reside. My energetic, enigmatic spirit cannot be cultivated with a man who doesn’t have the financial resources to accompany me as I explore. Money equates to power and power equates freedom. Finance has its place in romance despite what people will have you believe. Realize this. If I was to sacrifice this restless portion of my spirit, am I truly being fair to myself? What about the inviting part of my spirit? Shit, put it on out there, everyone isn’t deserving. Do I put up with the asshole just because he’s there? Absolutely not. Exit stage left. Somewhere along the line, many women allowed many men to feel as though the only qualifications that they need are a penis and a pulse and that makes them deserving of us. Well, not this woman. If my spirit deflects you, so will I.
My nurturing spirit needs to make my love a sandwich. I want to sing Ella Mai’s Breakfast in Bed while providing such. Nurturing has its place, therefore, it must be given to the right man, not just anyone. The nurturing of one’s significant other is quite different from the nurturing of a child. A child deserves nurturing simply upon creation but a significant other only receives such when they reciprocate the care. A man who provides emotional security deserves a nurturing environment but one who only brings chaos isn’t deserving of my love.
After a series of bad dates. A couple of ghosting instances the realization came to me. I’m not saying that I lost hope, I’m saying that I faced the reality. What I desire in my love life just may not happen. Relationships are no longer partnerships of people who want to share instead situations where someone is trying to feed off the other person. Scientifically, humans are no longer in symbiotic relationships anymore, instead, they are more parasitic in nature. I wasn’t raised to be a parasite nor the prey.
I won’t allow my spirit to be preyed upon but I pray that spirit is cherished by the right king. With the appreciation of my spirit and the pride that I have in cultivating such, I am liberated by the fact that alone my spirit is intact. That is a beautiful thing. Therefore if my lone status is eradicated, just know that my spirit won’t be hurt either. A relationship is built on compromise, that I don’t mind but sacrifice I will not do.
With this realization, I am liberated.
My spirit is a gift from God but it was cultivated by Papi. He is coursing through every enigmatic, energetic thing that I do. He taught me to be loving and to be a great friend, as time goes on without my dear friend, EJ, sadness still lingers but the hope is greater. If these two men who were taken from me loved me unconditionally, certainly there lies someone else but just in case there isn’t, I can remember that for a very long time, there were two.
Greetings all! I pray that you’re having a really nice spring and you’re looking forward to some great family time with the upcoming holidays and some fun in the sun. I know that I am. I’m currently looking for some ideas for Memorial Day so if you have any, I am all ears. Well a certain subject has reared its head and I think I should speak on it. This particular subject is always around in the single, black community and it’s always a hot button issue, which is the idea of interracial dating. It comes back more times than a rapper out of retirement and James Brown back to the stage when he’s put on his red cape. The subtopics that exist within the concept is the phenomenon of black men in power or wealth who intentionally date outside of their race and in some cases the same thing occurs with affluent black women. I tried to avoid this topic but when it kept appearing in pop culture, I felt like I needed to speak on it.
“This is why I propose that black women and Asian men join forces in love, marriage, and procreation. Educated black women, what better intellectual match for you than an Asian man?”-Issa Rae
The aforementioned quote is quite interesting. Insecure‘s creator and star, Issa Rae, published that bit of advice in her book and it took the internet by storm last week. Some people said that it was hypocritical on the part of black women because we’re always complaining about affluent black men purposefully seeking out women of other races and they bypass the sisters. While some people didn’t have any issues with it because they have the “what’s good for the goose is good for the gander” philosophy for the same reasons and think the time is now for payback. I mean it’s been a trend with powerful black women to turn the tables on their counterparts. You have Serena Williams, Janet Jackson, Eve, Zoe Saldana and Alfre Woodard who have already demonstrated that happiness doesn’t have to be achieved with a black man. It’s all quite, interesting.
The Storm Continues…..
Now last week a lot of black men had a problem with us being hypocrites by praising Eve but being mad at Kanye. This storm ensued with the criticism of Donald Glover, Mr. Childish Gambino, after he came out with a piece of art that is beyond woke. Some critics said he wasn’t really “woke” because his mate was a white woman. Which arose the question, could an Issa or Donald be truly woke if they were willing to go outside of their race for the most important decision of their lives? Interesting.
The Hypocrisy of It All…..
Let’s be honest. Love is supposed to be blind. Well hell, so is justice. But in this country, is either? I’ll be the first to admit that my image of happiness in a mate is the personification of a black king. It ain’t nothing more beautiful than a Mandika-Zulu-Warrior looking chocolate specimen with a smile like Michael B. Jordan and swag of Nas. But then that arises another question, exactly which “black” men do we really want? Do we prefer those ones like Michael B. Jordan and shun those who are more like Donald Glover?
Are we more inclined to want a certain type of black man and if he doesn’t fit into that criteria, we cast him aside but then get mad when he chooses a non-melanated individual? If this is true, why hadn’t we considered that maybe black men who wind up with others have possibly not attracted the type of black woman that he wanted and it was just easier for him to wind up with someone else? Can we just consider that it could possibly not have been about race?
There are a lot of stereotypes that are attached to black women, hell women in general. But we’ve got to get away from that, as well as the stereotypes that go along with any group of people. I think the true hurt that manifests itself with a lot of black women is that when our kings say they prefer not to date or marry us after we’ve supported their careers and progression in multiple ways. The hurt intensifies when a black man has had children with black women. With that, you’re saying we’re good enough for you to knock up but not good enough to wed. Or when you were trapping in the hood you had a Kesha, but when you get your record deal and the come up, you seek out a Karreuche. The intention creates a lot of the hurt. Let’s explore some of these stereotypes.
Harmful Stereotypes vs. The Reality
Sisters are Loud…… No, sisters are passionate and spirited. You’ll want that Cookie Lyon when the white man is trying to pull something over your ass.
Sisters are Hardheaded…. No, sisters are natural leaders, treat us as partners and you won’t have that issue, Eve came from Adam’s rib, not his ass. So if you want us to get behind you, be careful with the wording of that. Do you want to build with us or make a damn fool out of us? We have no problem with being led if you can lead. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow you to take me through hell.
Sisters are gold-diggers…. Uh, goal maybe, didn’t you hear that black women are the most degreed and lettered demographic in these United States? So snap up the right one and build an empire with. With that being said, I’m working on this doctorate, do you think I’m going to allow myself to get jammed up by someone’s dusty ass promiscuous son with four child support orders? Uh, hell no. You oughta want a Keisha Ka’oir on your team. Ask Gucci.
Sisters are baby mamas….. Well hell we didn’t knock ourselves up. By the same token that you want your BM to take care of the child, you should want to take care of yours as well and stop making them with every damn woman you see. I’m no one’s baby mama and I don’t think anyone has ever aspired to become such. And if she did, regardless of her color, run.
Sisters are violent….. Well that’s untrue, because I’m not here for it, the first time a man hits me, he’d better be ready to remember the memory of me, because he is done. I will leave him completely alone and he will be staring at the end of a restraining order and pistol if he doesn’t take my word for it. That’s not violent, that’s diligent. I’ll be damned if I have to fight the world and then have to come home and fight as well. I’m not bringing war to my home in any shape, form or fashion. Also, my summation…. Tiger Wood’s wife, Elin Nordegren, now you can’t get any whiter than her, and she went postal on his black ass. LOL!
With all of that being said. What I don’t want to happen for black men and women is for us to turn our backs on each other. We have the world who has already done that. I don’t feel like Issa, Alfre, Eve, Janet nor Serena are any less woke because they have white men as their spouses nor do I feel that way about Donald Glover either. Now when a black man ultimately decides that we’re not good enough for them when they came from a black woman, we don’t want that man anyway. Fuck him. When a black woman says the same, she’s not a sister either, fuck her. As I don’t want us to give up on one another, I don’t want us to limit ourselves either. What if for the sake of sanity, the man who is going to be the best option for you in every conceivable way just happens to be devoid of melanin, who are we to say no? If a man has dated every sister that has turned his head and it doesn’t work out and he meets a white woman who brings him what he needs, then by all means, ride off into the sunset with her, just don’t ever turn your back on us. We have to be there for one another because if we don’t, we are truly doomed.
Mother’s Day is approaching and I have two mothers that I have to shop for. The mother that I was born with, and the mother of my dear, departed friend EJ. I take pride in doing so, because I know that if he was down here and I was up there, he’d do the same. See that’s what real friends do, they take up the slack and reciprocate. So many of us are in “friendships” that aren’t reciprocal but instead it’s a parasitic where one person is preying off of the relationship and the other person isn’t getting a thing. I am so glad that my friendship with you dear friend was anything but that. As long as there is breath in my body and I am able, your family will have me to lean on, to call on, and to pray for them. I miss you dear friend. You were truly one of a kind and your friendship showed me what friendship was really about. I love you. Rest in love dear brother.