About Me

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Men & Women: The Unwritten (Until Now) Rules of Engagement : Titles


BA; BS; MBA; PhD; Mr.; Mrs. are all titles. Titles that we strive for in order to demand respect, get a better job, or get a higher pay grade. We pay great money to obtain these titles and take pride in making sure everyone around us acknowledges them, however when it comes to the title that connotes a relationship or commitment people run from it like the plague.

This is the basis of my conversation with a group of friends of mine between the ages of 23-30. We were at a kick back and talking about relationships etcetera and when the idea of titles came up the men in the room were acting like we had cussed out their mama. It seemed the general consensus around the room was that if a man chooses to date a woman (and I use the term date in the rawest sense of the word) that should be enough. All of them felt as though labeling the young woman as their “girlfriend” only complicates things. Therefore, it serves no good purpose. “Why label a good thing?” one of the young men asked. They continued on to say that marriage is only a piece of paper so what is the point of that? The foundation of their beliefs rested on the idea of “it’s more important to do the job of a husband or boyfriend than to just have the title and behave oppositely.”  They went on to say that should a woman ask a man for a relationship the possibility of him no longer showing interest in her is quite high.  So, I asked myself “are titles really that important?” 

Now most of the women in the room seemed amazed at this revelation, but they should not have been because aren’t there more women nowadays choosing to be single or favoring long term relationships as opposed to marriage. Playing house but still checking single when they file their income taxes? But these ladies seemed to be getting an eye opening epiphany as they listened to the men in the room express their views. And each single woman in the room found themselves either resigning to be single forever or accepting the possibility of being someone’s long term “boo-thang.” But why do women accept inferior or nonexistent titles? Why do men feel so comfortable treating the women in their lives in a manner they would not want their mother or sister to be treated? 

While I sat back and listened to the men and women go back and forth on this topic I found myself perplexed and honestly somewhat amused. Listening to this debate made me feel old or old fashioned I guess, because all I kept thinking about is my grandfather saying, “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” At the time, that made little sense to me, but as I have grown up I understand it more fully. It just seems to me that people (both men and women) either want the end result without the work that goes before it or they do not want to do work at all but in both cases this makes them lazy. 

Not having a title means being able to do whatever you want; whenever you want without repercussions or guilt. If a person doesn’t want a title he/she has the option to jump on the next new or “better” thing should it appear. And if it doesn’t old faithful will still be around. It’s a win-win. Or so it may seem. 

Titles come with expectations and many people today are not willing to live up to those expectations. Simply put people are becoming lazier and more selfish. Let us be honest people don’t want titles because they don’t want to have to live up to anything. They want to be able to satiate all of their carnal desires. Basically keeping their options open at all times. Never committing to anyone in the hope that when/if the next best thing comes along they are available to explore that option as well. And not marrying because it is believed to be just a piece of paper is another cop out. When you forego that “piece of paper” you forego such things as benefits in life or death, unified family, joint assets (as recognized by the law), to name a few. But in essence anytime you/they want to walk away you can and with no repercussions. Easy breezy

Marriage is a standard and standards are a lost ethic in today’s society. My grandfather also used to say you must stand for something or you will fall for anything. And no one wants to stand so is it safe to say we’re watching people fall like dominoes. Walking away from a marriage constitutes thought and serious consideration. And in many cases stepping out on a marriage has other financial and long lasting consequences. People want the fun, but not the potential consequences. People want the party, but not the partnership. 

We will sign our names on shady loans, but not a promissory commitment to love and grow with someone. And there’s nothing wrong with growing apart, breaking up, or divorce. It’s not ideal but it would understandable. At least you made an effort to be an active participant in a relationship; unfortunately it did not work out. All in all titles are not villains they constitute the willingness of a person(s) to put in the work required to build something. Why is this too much to ask?



Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Black Girl Lost


Black Girl Lost
I am a woman of the night
Not the street walking kind but another type
A black girl lost of sorts
Not a bad girl by definition but by force
Or choice

The tough exterior you see is just a shell
But what lies beneath tells the true tale.
Born in this skin with the caramel red tint
Many fooled themselves thinking I was born privileged

The things I had weren’t always what they seemed
Because a lot of my clothes were hand-me-down jeans
But the trick was that I never realized we were poor
Well actually low middle class who made less look like more
But even the labels I was draped in didn’t truly hide
The disastrous hurricane that was brewing inside.

My first was an adult and I was still a child
So my first exposure to men and sex was at the hands of a pedophile
All this before I even turned five.
See if that doesn’t fuck with your mind.
And even though he wasn’t related biologically
The damage would be evident indefinitely.

The person who was supposed to be guarding me with their life
Lay right beside me pretending to be asleep as I cried
And when I asked her why?
She answered, “Little girls must never tell lies.”
The lengths a woman goes to keep a man
But I had to forgive her cuz she was a great grand

On the bright side this is where I gave birth to my imagination
Allowing myself to be lost in a world of my own creation
The place where a kid could be a kid
And no one knew the things I hid

Still it became too much for one little girl to hold inside
I was all alone & I wished I would die
And yes that’s probably the first time I considered suicide
But as the years would soon tell this wouldn’t be the last time
Because the scars would deepen and become harder to hide
And the men in my life would cause me to commit emotional genocide.

Once the innocence is lost it’s gone forever
Trying to get it back is a useless endeavor

So, try as I might my sanity began ungluing
Wish as I may there was no edit undo-ing
Pieces of my soul left every time
Pieces till this day I’m still trying to find

From henceforth my view of men has never been the same
Cause they think with their dicks and rarely their brains
I expect them to hurt me, so like a snake I strike first
I haven’t decided if that’s a gift or a curse
I still sometimes cringe when I’m in the room with a man
Uncomfortable and awkward like being 5 all over again.
My mind sees sex as a synonym for love
A record I have yet to expunge

For years upon years I remained in reckless relationships
Because the pain felt normal and of functional I am clueless
I barely loved the one who truly loved me
I fell hard for the one who loved she, she, & she
I’ve yearned for the one whose hands congregated around my neck
I’ve cried over the one who made me feel no bigger than a speck
Always finding the time to love someone else
But never smart enough to realize I need to save some of that love for myself

Said yes when I should have said no
Thinking it would make this broken vessel a whole
Hurt some because I believed that eventually
They’d go out of their way to inflict pain on me
And as I’ve searched for the love of a man
I’ve totally lost touch with who I am

I once dreamed of the husband, house, kids, and the fence
All in that order but my realization was this
Life is fucked up and definitely not fair
And damn right my life ain’t been no crystal stair

My view of relationships is warped
I govern only secondarily with my heart

Monogamy
Temporarily
Trusting…unlikely
Concerned…slightly
Jealous…rarely
Doing me…apparently

I feel like I’m a curse to men
Because I seem to always hurt them
Not just because I expect their pain
But because I do things without thinking
And even though I regret the acts
It’s usually too late to take them back.
My grandmother always told me I’m innately a good girl
But I would never be right until I found my true place in the world.
For now, I’m a walking disaster unintentionally
But in the words of my granddad “charge it to my head not my heart and me.”
I think it’s because in order to give love you must first love yourself
A craft I haven’t actually mastered yet.

They say the origin is because my father’s name I never did know
And that obviously, I’d have daddy issues right from go

But I will not sit and pretend as if it was all bad
My grandfather, uncles, and step dad
More than made up for what I never had

Still in the back of my mind the question lurked
Why didn’t my father love me, and that shit hurts.

Now my son finds himself in a similar situation
Realizing you’re unloved is a hell of a revelation
I can’t shield him from the pain that is to follow
Rejection is a hard ass pill to swallow.
Funny how my life mirrors his
Both of us being emotionally fucked up as kids

I haven’t always been the momma I should be
And I blame no one else but me.
Ashamed of the person I’ve become
Can’t even look into the eyes of my own son.

It’s funny how people are quick to judge me
See what they want to see
Don’t know me
Have no idea what it’s like to be she.

Tainted by elements out of my control
But act like they’d know what to do if they had my role
Have you ever come home to no food in your house?
And have four eyes looking at you and you have nothing to put in their mouth
Watching them suffer when you’re doing your best
So if the opportunity for them to have better came wouldn’t you say yes?
But you think it’s because I don’t want the responsibility
When in truth it’s because them I couldn’t clothe or feed
So when you open your mouth to talk about me
Make sure you know the whole story

Before you is an excerpt from the pages of my life
In this chapter much was written about strife

‘Cuz I still visit the place of my imagination from time to time
And deposit inside
The shameful things I try to hide

Hopefully I’m not consumed by pain
Not drowned in the rain
Lost in the flood never to be heard from again

Because I’m a woman of the night
Not the street walking kind but another type
Black girl lost wanting to do what’s right
Trapped in the abyss of darkness desperately searching for the light.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

At the Movies 2: Concession Stand

My baby and I are on our regular movie date

As we’re choosing our seats I catch the eye of a honey named Kate

She was this chick I had wanted since freshman year

So imagine my surprise seeing her here

She gave me a smile that lit up the room

I started to speak but I realized it was too soon

My girl was up on me and she would have seen

And that is drama unwanted if you know what I mean.

She was obviously feeling me ‘cause she winked her eye

She got up and mouthed “follow me” as she walked by

The way that her ass looked in those skinny jeans

Would have made any man fall to his knees.

My girl let out a sigh which immediately got my attention

My heart skipped a beat cause I thought she was listening

“What’s wrong?” I asked feigning concern

“Nothing baby” she replied but her head never turned

My girl’s eyes on the main screen were fixed

And to fight the temptation I could no longer resist

I whispered “Baby, I’m hungry. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

She nodded and smiled and without missing a beat

I made my way to the entry way cause I had someone to meet

I nearly stumbled as I finally got to my feet.

Before I hit the corner Kate bumped into me

Our faces were so close I could hear her breathe

She said, “I didn’t think you were coming as long as you made me wait”

I said, “I had to figure out a way to be temporarily excused from my date.”

She wasted no time as she took me by the hand

Led me into a dark cinema and quickly unbuckled my pants

Got on her knees and begin to ingest me slow

First sucking on the tip and then taking in much more

My balls were not neglected as they made her mouth their home

She even continued stroking my dick, so all my mind did was roam.

She sucked on my erection as if she were expecting a treat

She even turned me down when I offered to eat

Once she got me hard again; she had a second dose of my juices

She had no idea of how long I had been waiting to do this.

Then she slid her skinny’s down and straddled me in reverse

She slid on the condom and started to bounce in one motion as if she’d rehearsed

She threw her head back and started to moan which clearly turned me on

I tickled her clit and kissed her neck which made her orgasm strong

I had to put my hand on her mouth to mute her sweet sounds

I can’t say for sure but I swear this one couple whispered “could ya’ll keep it down”

That was a tall order considering I was hard with no cumming in sight

As much as she has sucked and sucked I was in a position to fuck her right

She turned around and straddled me and began to ride me crazy

She mumbled out a couple of words but all I could make out was “baby”

She came at least 4 more times

And that filled me with pride

And even though I was nowhere near cumming I had to stop this ride

My girl was prolly worried sick and this smell I couldn’t hide.

I pretended to cum and she slid off and pull her pants back on

Before I could ask her for her number my escapade was already gone.

I went to concession grabbed some food

And prepared a lame excuse.

Just when I leaned in to apologize for being away so long

She looked at me, kissed my lips, & said “I barely noticed you were gone.”











Saturday, October 16, 2010

You

And every time I feel like I’ve gotten over you
Dream I do
Every night about you
Don’t know what it is about you
It has to be that thing you…do
That makes me only want to be with you
Write verse after verse about you
To wake up next to you
To go to sleep being held by you
To make love to you
Change my last name for you
Have babies that look just like you
Even name one after you
Build a life with you
Be a perfect wife for you
Grow old with you
Share a lifetime of love with you
Tell our grandchildren about you
But until you
Realize how much you
Make me want you
Borderline need you
I don’t want to live without you
So until I have you
Guess I’ll have to dream you.





Tainted

My view of love has been tainted over years
Now it goes on the list as one of my biggest fears
As I have grown I have found love to be an illusion
Definition attempts only lead to confusion

Some say love hurts; while others claim the opposite
For me the ups and downs are too much to deal with
So I distance myself from love and lovers alike
Settling for lustful actions to fulfill my lonely nights

The love fantasy is not my preference
I honestly believe it was created for reference
I have watched as people embarked upon forever
Ending up with nothing and never
Again and again falling and failing
Sitting on their couches crying and wailing

As love has disappointed them time and time again
Highest high in the beginning lowest low in the end
I have had my run in with love absolutely and without a doubt
It jabbed me in the gut, dotted my eye, and punched me in the mouth
Literally and metaphorically so I have learned a life lesson
Love may or may not be a blessing
Love for family could be a gift
But the love between lovers well that seems like a bottomless pit

Protecting my heart from the pain
Sheltering my love from the rain
Keeping it all for myself
Cause to do bad I need no one’s help

Never again do I plan to let another man abuse me
Spit on my dreams, and/or bring me misery
Down that road I have been
Down that road so have my friends

I am not just targeting men
For some the culprits can include women

If my words are discouraging and you don’t agree
Disregard what I say but, I’m just expressing me.

Timeless Journal: A Story

Dolls & G.I. Joes
Homecomings & Proms
Graduation & College

Babies & Marriage
Distance & Time
Reunions & Regrets 

If I wrote my own version of “Love and Basketball” it would be devoid of basketball, but all of the other elements would be present in various ways. Of course there has to be a few more twists and turns, but I need you in the right mind frame as I tell my story.

Dolls & G.I. Joes
He and I grew up together for all intents and purposes. My aunt married his uncle and being approximately 1 year apart, we were somewhat thrust upon each other. Being the oldest in our respective families we were each other’s play mates by default. His family lived approximately an hour away from mine, so we didn’t go to school together. But every family holiday and random gatherings we would get to hang out.

The opposite sex thing never phased me, because in my eyes he was someone new and different to talk to. We talked about everything and it got to a point where I thought of him as “family” or a “cousin” of sorts. We were pretty close I would say. I would be disappointed when they, well he, didn’t come on certain occasions, but it’s ok to miss your “cousin” right?  

I want to say I was about 11 when things became complicated. I was going through puberty so I was all kinds of awkward. This was about the time I became extremely shy and introverted. I never thought I was as pretty as all the other girls in my class. But more importantly, I was noticing boys in a major way. I never managed the courage to talk to them, but that didn’t keep me from looking and liking.   

I believe it was Good Friday, because that’s when everyone would come over. We have a really big get together. Crawfish boil, fish fry, etouffee, desserts…more food than the eye can see. All of our family near or far immediate & extended showed up. Honestly, I wasn’t sure of who was all coming all I was looking forward to was the food. I was in my room playing some game or other when there was a knock on my non-existent door. (Long story) I looked up and there he stood. I believe my heart stopped. Remember I told you I was now noticing boys. I felt like my puberty senses were on high alert. I just stared.

It’s not like this is the first time we’d been alone together. In fact, we were alone quite often. Like I said he was “family” but this time was different. I was immediately hot, not sexual but pure embarrassment and discomfort. I’m sure I turned a different shade of red. I couldn’t understand what was happening, but nonetheless it was happening.   

I could not look him in the eyes. I stared at my feet as if they were a work of art. I started touching my hair, fixing my clothes, and my voice was barely above a whisper. I felt awkward and I didn’t know how to act. Comfort came in the form of my cousin Chass. She and I were extremely close so she was always around. Funny thing is she had the hugest crush on him. She wanted me to hook them up. So when she walked in she gave me “that” look.  

Chass is a very pretty girl, she was never shy or awkward around people. However, she was still a teenage girl, so the direct approach with boys was still out of the question. Somewhere in conversation we decided to go outside and I just followed behind still studying my shoes. I don’t know what all we did throughout that day but here’s what I do remember. Chass reminded over lunch that I was supposed to hook her up. I was not looking forward to it, but she would have done it for me hands down so there was no backing out. I couldn’t have him, so she may as well. (Wait, that thought was inappropriate, right?)

The specifics of that afternoon escape me, probably because I was avoiding him and had said less than a sentence to him the entire day. After some more prodding by Chass I got him alone outside on the side of my grandmother’s house and while I was mustering up the courage to speak he kissed me. I wasn’t sure about what all had happened all I know is he was my very first kiss, but I would never be able to tell a soul. And to this day I never have.  

Homecomings & Proms
Let’s fast forward to high school. We would still see each other on holidays and random visits. Sometimes he would spend the night. He was and remained the only boy ever allowed in my room or who could spend the night whenever he wanted to. We would go hang out when he came to my town or vice versa when I was in his. Once it was clearly explained to me that we weren’t technically related I was able to feel less guilty about my feelings.

But I was young, he was young and puberty causes so many emotions and changes I didn’t trust anything I felt. But there was no denying that I felt something. It was my secret. It’s fair to say we experimented with sex…somewhat. We never quite went all the way for the most part and for that reason alone I won’t say he was my first. But in retrospect, he was.   

During my junior year, for no particular reason, he came to visit me. He drove down with his cousin, whose name escapes me, and the four of us went out. I think we went to the lake to hang out, but wherever we were he and I sat around and talked for hours. Chass and his cousin were off doing their own thing. In all the years we had been friends what I had felt that first day had grown and not because of the firsts but because he was special or at least that’s what I wrote in my diary.  

That night when we came home my grandmother asked him if he wanted to stay the night, but he had an early work day so he left.

Not 5 minutes after he had gone my grandmother told me. “That boy loves you.” I laughed. She said, “Listen to me that boy loves you but ya’ll are too young and live too far to give it an opportunity. When you’re both older that will be your husband. When that day comes just remember who told you and it’s important that you always remain friends even when your last name changes.” I laughed it off, but she looked at me and said “trust me girl.”

I never told her that I loved him and hoped she was right, but looking back on it I’m positive she already knew. I wore my heart on my sleeve around him, not because I wanted to, but because it jumped out of my chest every time he came around. I never found the voice to ever tell him that. I had a diary that was just about him, no one ever read it, no one even knew about it. It was the only one I was completely honest in and it’s the only reference to what I felt for him.  

Graduation & College
Funny how the universe can bring two people together and in the same motion pull them apart. It was no secret that we both dated and did our thing. Hell we were young what else were we supposed to be doing? He graduated a year before me and went off to college and then came back home to work. I graduated a year later, wound up pregnant and moved to the Bay. After toiling with all that happened in that relationship many, many, many other things.

Our paths crossed again.  

At this point, I was living in his hometown working at a hospital. I was on hiatus from school and I ran into him at a bank. We chatted briefly, but we were both on our way to work so it was of no consequence.
How do I remember this stuff? Remember that diary I spoke of? I was still writing in it faithfully. In fact, he was the first person I thought of when I got pregnant, because I felt so guilty. And years later he was the first person I thought of when I moved to his city. I would write him occasionally because for me, he was the only person I had ever trusted unequivocally. These letters I never sent went everywhere I went. They told the truth of how I felt, my reasons for doing many of the stupid things I did. My truth sat on those pages and it was somewhat therapeutic.

Millions of times I had entertained the idea of being with him, but the idea of losing the friendship always forced me to keep my distance. Besides we didn’t talk much anymore, we were pseudo grownups trying to make our way in this world. Yet, every time I tried to close that chapter in my life, my grandmother would find some way to mention him or her “belief.” Even though I always blew her off, the mental cycle would start all over again. Did I mention that she compared every guy I dated to him? She even tried to convince me to take him to my senior prom when I told my then boyfriend that I refused to go with him.

Babies & Marriage
I remember getting a call from my mom telling me they were coming in town for the weekend. My place was big enough, but I fully appreciated my privacy. She went on to tell me they were coming for the wedding and if I was going. Imagine my surprise when she told me to whose wedding she was going. I fell completely silent and while she went on and on I cannot tell you what she said. I wasn’t angry, I was hurt. I realized that the window opportunity that I never thought would close was slamming in my face.

I cried.

Immaculate timing it would seem because my grandmother called me. She only asked me about this and that, but I knew she was trying to see how I was. I appreciated the concern without the questions. She never mentioned the nuptials and I am grateful, because I don’t know if these secrets would still have remained mine alone otherwise. After talking to her, I felt better and I knew I was going to be alright. I grabbed my diary from its secret hiding place and I wrote what would be my 2nd to last entry.

It began slightly sketchy and incoherent, but 5 or 6 hours later it was the most honest piece of work I have ever written. I put every emotion I ever had or currently had in regards to him on those pages. I cannot recall everything, but the last few lines are as clear as if they were sitting right in front of me. It said:

To lay all of this on you hours before your wedding would be absurd, and I have too much respect and adoration for you to ever do that. But I hope that you have found all of the happiness you so deserve. I know that if you chose her she must be special. One day I hope to know what it’s like to find that special someone and not want to be without them, but something tells me that window has already closed. She is the luckiest woman on earth and I will always envy her. If I had it all to do over again, I would have done it differently.

I closed the journal and fell asleep. My folks showed up so early Saturday morning it should have been a sin. I had no intentions of attending so I sat around watching them get ready when my mom said “get your slow ass up and get dressed.” I said, “I’m not going, because I don’t have anything to wear.” She said, “How can you not be there on the most important day of your friend’s life?” I opened my mouth to argue, but my grandmother intervened and said, “Go get dressed.” I was not going to argue with her, so I went. I tried my hardest to get left, but to no avail.

I felt like a hooker in church in her work clothes. I wore my discomfort on the inside. Outwardly, I smiled, laughed, and socialized; all the while my insides felt as if it housed a small village of butterflies. My journal was in my purse, but it was only there for moral support. I dare not take it out. What if someone sitting near me caught a glimpse of its content? I clutched my purse as if it contained my life savings and emotionally it did.

As he stood alone at the altar, I closed my eyes and for one fleeting moment I imagined he was waiting for me. The music began and I realized my dream was someone else’s reality, and it was even harder to accept in person than it was on the phone. As the vows were exchanged I could no longer fight back the tears. But at least the timing was appropriate. When it came time for the kiss, I pretended to have lost something and began to rifle through my bag. I may have held it together this long, but I was no fool. There was only so much I could bear. Seeing them at the reception, I became that 11 year old girl again, never made eye contact, beet red, and uncomfortable.

Throughout all of the relationships, break-ups, broken hearts, and tears I thought would never end this hurt the most. As soon as the opportunity presented itself I left.

As soon as I got home, I pulled out my journal. I read every page, even the loose paper inserts. That’s when I wrote my very last entry:
Saw it with my own eyes; he has a wife and daughter. So it is done. Every story does not have a fairy tale ending, but all stories end. Our story ends here.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Distance & Time

Ten years later…

The same Universe that had pulled our lives in opposite directions spun around one more time. While updating my facebook page guess whose name popped up in my “friend suggestion” section. Without thinking I sent a friend request. I did not expect him to accept it let alone reply, but he did both.

Reunions & Regret
In talking to him, we found that our lives did indeed go in different directions. I went to college and he ended up going to the military. We had even landed in different time zones. When I asked him how he was he told me that all was well and he hadn’t been home in years. I was in a similar way, but had finally broken down and went to visit. What I could not bring myself to ask was about his wife.

I have learned not to ask questions if you are not prepared for the answers. That’s when I realized how not over it I was. We continued talking about our current careers and future goals.

I was doing a good job of being generic, when he hit me with a low blow. “I still consider you the one that got away.” While I dismissed it in conversation, my mind refuses to let it go. How could the person I had loved since I was 11 say I got away from him when he was the one who had gotten married? Did he not know that all he had to do was say the word back then and I would have dropped everyone for him? Maybe he didn’t, because I never told a soul.

After we concluded our conversation I sat back and reflected. I realized I still carry regret. I still wonder “what if”. I don’t know if it’s because I’m such a precocious person or because I never got the chance to say all the things I have always wanted to.

It’s funny now as I reflect on it; there were so many missed opportunities. So many periods where there should have been commas or semi colons and words that were never spoken. I am not delusional in thinking that things would be different now if at least one of those opportunities were seized, but maybe it would have saved me 15+ years of wondering “what if or maybe?”All the things I have experienced both good and bad have made me who I am today, and while I can say I am grateful; I still wonder if I would be better if I had made other choices. For example, if I had said “yes” here and “no” there or if I had asked at least once “what about us?” I have many regrets, but that would be my greatest to date.

I honestly do not believe in true absolute limitless love. Everything that has a beginning has an end and what has an entrance has an exit, it’s a matter of choosing to remain or continue. However, I have never gotten over my feelings they were only buried deep down in my soul’s journal. My question is now that the journal has been unlocked and re-opened do I turn the page or burn the book?