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On being American & considering marriage to a Kuwaiti National Guardsman: I’m not mad at him; I just know we can’t be together.

I’m not mad at him; I just know we can’t be together.

I know he wants forever, connection with me. I know he dreams; but he also knows his reality.

We could kiss forever, admire one another eternally. We could bring forth children that were clever, critical thinkers and free.

We could encourage the health of one another with the meals that we’ve cooked, making sure to never overlook the sweet pleasures in life. I could have been his wife.

He could have been my man, my helping hand, my lover’s rock. Too bad it didn’t happen though.

Too bad money became his captain, his guiding seas. Too bad he loved his money more than he loved me.

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It’s too bad he lives in a country that suppresses his liberty, a place where his employer controls his matrimony. Beginning a marriage with an American is a felony… unless you start all over again.

And Again was something he couldn’t do. Couldn’t throw away 5 years of hard work just to be with his boo. Couldn’t stand not being a bread winning man, not even just for a few. He needed to take care of me, protect me, guide me, whatever he needed to do.

When a man needs help, it’s hard to come to, because he has to allow his woman to be strong, to take care of him too.

All easier said than done. I’ve come to a place where I know what I want. Or should I say, what I need, because I can’t stay with a man that won’t commit to me.

More than a pretty ring or a wedding invitation, I need someone that’s going to assist in the creation of a unit: 1 family, 1 home, 1 lifetime.  I need him to bank on our time spent together.  I need him to adore me even through stormy weather.

But I’m a traveling woman and a traveling woman must find doors to walk through, always seeking the next level, unless… he came along, or I was willing to stay. Either way, we had some serious decisions to make.

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So he chose is money, his security and his 5 years of hard work. He chose to base our future on his potential income instead of basing it on my worth.

What’s a risk taken without a commitment to see it through? A bluff to give time, time to enjoy the woman who’s willing put in effort, effort to support you, with or without your ability to financially contribute. But you’re only in this as long as your money plans work out for you, because if they don’t, we’re over and this just wont continue.

And for that reason honey, I’m not mad at you. I just know that our time is up, and we can’t be together.

Bag Lady Has a New Man

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As much as I thought I would love to be in a loving relationship, now that it’s at my doorstep, or more so, inside my house, I’m scared as hell.  Things were easy when I could feel comfort in knowing that he did not know everything about me; and this kept my feelings at bay.  But now that he does know, I’m drifting into the deep oceans.  Nothing opens my heart more than knowing that someone can see me  fully and still want me.

It’s like I just can’t let go and allow myself to be put in the position to be hurt.  I guess this makes me a bag lady because heartache still feels so near.  I’m scared to DEATH to be hurt again. 

I almost want to break up with him just so that I can feel normal again.  It’s funny how you think you’ll never get used to being single and then suddenly, that’s your past.  Next thing you know, you’re missing the comfort of knowing that no one can hurt you because you’re not committed. 

This may sound crazy, but I almost want to stop talking to my boyfriend for a while just to get to that place were I feel in control again.  

Otherwise, I’m just falling.

Traveling Woman: a poem by FeministLiving

Walking through life one heal click at a time

allowing my mind to travel ahead of me,

hunting for lessons of wisdom.

I keep my head down sometimes to keep from tripping over the uneven pavement,

bumping into the stop sign at the corner.

And yes it’s true, I do still love her.

But I’m new now! Embracing my body and feeling my worth

with just enough love to give birth to serenity

despite all the shit I got to do.

Consciously uplifting psyche to get through the days news.

Jogging just a bit to pick up the pace

and I still can’t get there fast enough.

My heart knows my mind all to well and it’s calling my bluff

so I take 2 puffs and watch my troubles pillow float away.

With nothing left behind but Me

Wrapped up in Divinity and feeling the closeness of omnipotence.

I put God first and She revealed to me what love truly meant.

Not romance or slow jams to hum to.

Only the wind quest-steady around me,

aware of the realities that I succumb to.

I live my life inside of my shoes.

And while some call me near and others crazy,

I remain in the middle with some serious decisions to make.

I breathe deeply and take 2 more,

just to make sure that I transcend higher than this;

higher than wanting to be kissed by those who don’t matter.

Avoiding the noise of a heart once again, shattered.

But honestly, the clicking that I hear from the pump to the pavement

sounds much more promising than a rushed engagement to you,

or anyone else for that matter.

And if I had to choose between the 2,

I would choose the latter because Victory is closer here.

And no longer will I allow life to drive me into a brick wall.

Although sometimes my voice resonates with moans of fatigue,

nothing is greater than preserving myself for longevity

and I know this.

A lot to do with friends telling you to take one day at a time,

just to look up and see that I’ve fallen behind?

No, I refuse.  Move, that’s what I do.

Traveling in haste

I’m in a rush to make it to a new space.

A change of scenery.

A place where the sun can’t tell time

and the milk of my bosom feeds the minds of those who have thirst.

Where green really does grow on trees legally

and I can carry this earth in my purse.

My eyes are big in this place of awesomeness

Indulging in sweet sexual bliss and a kiss on the cheek

with dream catchers hanging above my bed so the past won’t bother me.

Money is nonexistent because wealth is always inside of me.

And this is a space where my favorite song plays.

Where my father establishes our history

and my mother decides to bless me no matter who I choose to fuck.

Girl, boy, mythical creature, whomever fills my cup.

But for right now I drive with caution through stormy weather

or at least the aftermath.

Because whoever said

a heart’s wisdom was a few short miles away?

Whomever promised a laugh?

Comments on the UK Riots: It’s sad when your manhood is acknowledged by the oppression you encounter for being black and poor.

Comments on the UK Riots: It’s sad when your manhood is acknowledged by the oppression you encounter for being black and poor.

“I have a grandson, he’s an angel; and he began to think he was coming of age when the police slapped him up against the wall and searched him…” – Darcus Howe, writer and broadcaster, UK

I don’t know if many of you have seen this, but I first saw it a few weeks ago and I was astounded.  No, smh, this certainly will not be televised.  The prophecy lives on.

The police blew a guys head off???

***Justice for Marc Duggan NOW! Read this: http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2011/aug/08/mark-duggan-profile-tottenham-shooting ***

I had a nice conversation with an old classmate from college on FaceBook about the riots.  It went like this:

Friend: “stupid kids…i seriously doubt most of the participants knew anything about the political reasons it sparked from. it should have remained a peaceful protest. but people just jumped on the bandwagon to start crap. riots raise eyebrows and let people know something is wrong…but i don’t believe riot participants care about the problems that started it. they just want to destroy stuff. i bet searches and racial profiling is about to get worse…

and i can get with what he’s saying. but what happened is not the way to gain respect. just fear. and ignorance comes from fear”

Me: “I agree that there is definitely a bandwagon effect. But I would give humans more credit to say that thy would steal before they just destroy. While they may not be aware of political jargon and details, they know that their lives are different from their white counterparts.

The masses of people will always riot because they know that no politician or public policy will address the attitudes of racist white people. Hence they take matters into their own hands. Frustration runs deep when you’re peacefully marching and being criminalized anyway.

There has never been a peaceful revolution, hence why the Civil Rights movement did not achieve its goal, but made great progress.”

Friend: “i just will never understand destroying your own community to bring a point across. something came of slave riots, but these people had nothing and attacked their oppressors. i can’t get behind riots in these modern times where you are destroying your own communities. what does that really do? attack the right people if you want to get violent.”

Me: “I agree. I could never participate either. I don’t see the point. I honestly don’t think they do either. People need another option. It’s just sad when they aren’t presented any. That’s why militia in Ghana (I believe it is) are taking arms over oil pumps because when they did respond peacefully, their leader was assassinated.  Same story different day.”

Friend: “i guess it’s not really the attacking i have an issue with. it’s attacking the right people. i don’t understand when militia terrorize their own people either like what goes on in Congo, Sierra Leone, etc. i can understand fighting against an oppressor.

hopefully at the end of it all, something good comes of it and people who didn’t deserve getting their livelihood destroyed and burned can pick up the pieces.  but you know what…when we all can get along, that’s the end of days. so it is what it is.”

Me: “Yea… So true. Makes u really wonder what the best option is.  I don’t wanna just think about myself.”

You know, what’s also sad about these riots is that these places that are being destroyed are the dwellings of the same people who may be rioting.  But this new-age, SmartPhone savvy rioting is a different story.  People appear to be coming from all over, organized, coming and leaving at specific times of the day.

When you think about the word home, your bed comes to mind.  But for some, that is truly a far away place.  I live this double-consciousness everyday.  The more I thirst for knowledge of my ancestry, the more I feel detached from any one place in particular.  Not having land to call home is an awkward feeling.  (see: Images and Facing Mirrors: retelling black history from a black feminist perspective)

So I ask, is London the home of these rioters?  I think that’s a personal question.

Why do they destroy their city?  Is it their city to begin with?  I’m beginning to believe it’s at least partly because they have no ancestral memory to the land.  While it is temporary yes, we all have an ability to pick and move from one place to another and not feel homesick, save for the one place we truly grew up, or truly came into ourselves.  I have no experience of knowing a home in another country.  I do not have immigrant parents.

For a lot of us, home lies in the senses.  Home is territory.  That’s why it doesn’t surprise me that gang life persist.

I wonder if Mr. Howe’s grandson felt at home when the police officer threw him up against the wall?  Certainly, Howe identifies as West Indian, not British.

How we identify has a lot to do with the riots phenomenon.  You’ve never heard of any riot that occurred with natives on their own land.  If so, please inform me.

I am warmed by Howe’s affection towards his grandson and he says a mouth-full, “Something very very serious is going to happen in this country.”  Something serious is going on here too Mr. Howe, and in so many places as you’ve so eloquently pointed out.  The “insurrection of the people” will definitely go untelivised in the US of A.

The day will soon come when we all demand as a people for better human rights and a global blockade of neo-imperialism.  The people want their shit back.  Get your own money.

They also want respect for their histories and lives.  The men want to honor their manhood.  The women want to their womanhood back.

It’s sad when your manhood is acknowledged by the oppression you encounter for being black and poor.  This is a global epidemic.  What does it mean when young men of color come of age by ritual police brutality?  Our identity is at stake.

That’s alarming to me.

It’s alarming when a 24 year old black male pretends to sell weed so that his former customer doesn’t know he’s not a dealer anymore.  It’s alarming when young black men steel cars and sell them for “the fame” of it all, even though they come from good homes and strong families.  True story.

Black British boys are going through it too, I would presume.  Check out what David Cameron, Prime Minister of the UK, and others have to say about our culture as they address Parliament: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-14493059

When We don’t talk about it, They do:

“We will not allow a culture of fear to exist on our streets. and we will do whatever it takes to restore law and order to our communities.”

“Of course these are acts of individual criminality.  But we all have a duty to ask ourselves, why are their people who feel they have nothing to loose and everything to gain from wanton vandalism and looting?”

“Evidence that part of British culture is sick.”

“This not about poverty.  This is about culture, a culture that has no respect for authority and says everything about rights and nothing about responsibility.”

Well I’ll be damned.

The men I’ve encountered even in my short 24 years all have a dance that they do for other men as well as a dance that they do for women.  But I was surprised to hear about the “fame” this black man was talking about; and the alarms rang again after hearing the thoughts of a white man on poor black people.

Youth have a shortsightedness about oppression.   People of the diaspora are young in many ways.

So how long will the riots be isolated?  Well if manhood is continued to be bred this way, I don’t suspect very long.

“Reprogram your relationship.”

“Reprogram your relationship.”

That’s what my mother said to do.

Sometimes we fall in love with men that don’t act right.  They are selfish, unkind at times, and downright disrespectful even.  Or sometimes they just can’t seem to give themselves to you.  Whatever the case, my mom’s got a solution for you: kick his ass to the curb.

Lol.  I love my mother’s advice, although I am weary due to her own present day single status.  But up until now, I would say she’s on to something.

I never saw myself being played like some “bitch” over a guy, but sure enough, it happened (to the best of us They say).  Being late, not showing up at all, and just straight up not making a priority out of me…  I am a woman of action so if it’s not being done, then it’s not being felt, and that’s what hurts the most.  Time and time again, for a year, this guy let me down.

It was new behavior to me because since we were 9, he had always did what he said he was going to do; and to his credit yes, we’ve had some wonderful times together in the past year.  But I am a Taurus and we like consistency.  Moreover, I think any human being could appreciate that.  Not to say that people don’t make mistakes, but not the same ones over and over again.  After a while it just becomes careless and I care, f*ck that.

So I walked away… and I’m lonely as hell.  But not as lonely as I was before.  I still love him and he knows this, but I don’t speak to him because I can’t hear his voice.  I canceled plans to visit because the sight of his big sexy self will surely cause temporary amnesia; and sure enough, he’ll be back at that silly, inconsiderate behavior again.

This is long distance, might I add, and we aren’t in a committed relationship.  We are just to old friends who’ve gotten together somewhat recently, had sex, and have casually discussed marriage.  Yea I know, marriage.  Really?  But this is his doing, not mine.  Game… could be.  Honestly, I hope it’s not.  Why, I don’t know.  I love him?

I do… since the 3rd grade.  We’ve gone our separate ways throughout the years, but he’s always found me.  This time it was on Skype.  🙂

See! That smile right there.  That’s what I can’t help.  If I could draw a picture of a beautiful man, it would look like him.  Big, strong and healthy, deep black skin.  Ooh! Don’t get me started… Girl, bye. smh lol

He was the first time I ever fell in love with dark skin.  I had 2 boyfriends at the time, him and a light-skinned boy.  Up until that point, all of the boys I liked were light skin with curly hair.  He was chocolate with a fade.  (The last time I saw him, I rubbed Shea butter on that skin and it came to LIFE.)  He made me choose, him or Light Skin.  I chose him.

His mind is instinctual.  He thinks for himself.  He knows me, so he respects my mind, admires it even.  I love it when he looks at me, like he can’t believe what’s in front of his eyes.   He supports me in my work and keeps me focused.  But he sucks at keeping time and promises.  That’s big.

He says he wants to marry me and has been saying that since we were little.  But this is the first time it ever meant anything to me and this was the first time he actually discussed us being meant for one another.  I want to marry for love.  But not if love comes with constant heartache.  I understand marriage works in cycles (says my Godmother), but I can’t deal with no man I can’t believe in.  Period.

So what do I do?  I wait.  Why?  Because I can’t stop thinking about him; and because I’m even starting to think that it may be unfair to spend time with another man right now.  It’s not their fault they’re not him and I can’t have conversation without leading them on.  Even for men that are fine as hell, I’m so lack luster.  We shall see in the future of course but as for now, I’m involuntarily waiting.

We chose not to commit because of the distance obviously, we’re human.  We both need to finish school.  I  know he’s sorry and that’s great, but I need time; and quite frankly, so does he.  He is still a young man.  He needs time to take care of himself.  Until then, who knows what will happen.  2 years is a long time.  A lot can change. I can change.

So ode to the single 40 something year olds out there who are still holding it down for high standards, which is really a misnomer.  We are leaders, mothers, God workers and the anchor to the human family tree.  Respect yourself.

And stop watching these TV shows and reading these books that perpetuate this narrative of unhealthy black love.  I challenge the popular mantra and argue that black love is beyond a marital license, especially since we weren’t always allowed to have one.  Draw a picture of that.

I Need a Man… **in my Diddy voice**

I Need a Man… **in my Diddy voice**

I’m lonely.

I stay in the house a lot, read and do my work.  I get good grades in school and I give 110% at work.  My sex life is casual, with frequent pockets of involuntary celibacy.

When my heart is broken, I throw myself into my studies and my work, I find a new project to work on, I smoke – all things to fill a void.

I want a man in my life but would I ever tell any man this detail?  Hell no. Who ever wanted to be the “thirsty bitch”?

But why should straight women be forced to pretend like they don’t need the love of a man other than their fathers?  Why am I less special if I want this type of attention?  What makes this desire desperate?

Have you heard the saying, “The best way to get a man to pay attention to you is to pay him no attention at all.”  If you agree/ disagree with this, say so in the comments.  I agree with it.  Although I don’t think it’s ok.  I have had a man tell me that he is the type that requires a lot of attention and really doesn’t get into women who don’t give him the amount of attention he likes.  (He is fine too, might I add.) With that being said, I am a strong believer that individuals have love languages, regardless of gender.  (The 5 Love Languages, G. Chapman)

So why are women put down for admitting that they need a man in their lives?  Doesn’t everybody need love?  What’s wrong with having a need when you’ve already came into yourself, your career, your spirituality and your womanhood?  And why are women sometimes the worst critics? … crab mentality, I think.

So in efforts be human, here’s my declarations:

1) I am lonely.  Shoot me.

2) I am unhappily single.

3) No, I am NOT desperate.  Loneliness does not equal desperation and I am still choosey about my partners.

4) I need a man in my life because I work hard as hell!  I’m in a place where I’m fulfilled in my career, my family and friends, my personal goals and my hobbies.  But that doesn’t mean that I’m fulfilled romantically.  Coming home to the comfort of love makes a huge difference in your stress level from day to day.  I also need to be squeezed, held and caressed sometimes.  I need human contact!

5) Lastly, I need to be taken care of and yes, it’s a need because I can only take care of myself to a certain degree; I can’t make love to myself, for example, or be in two places at one time.  It doesn’t hurt to be babied at times.  Sometimes I just want to be vulnerable and I want my man to give me refuge from the woes of this world.  Again, shoot me.

“He said he was saving himself for marriage.”: A Feminist Perspective on Chastity and Abstinence in America

“He said he was saving himself for marriage.”: A Feminist Perspective on Chastity and Abstinence in America

So I met this EXTREMELY good looking man one day while I was searching for a job.  He had a beautiful, engrossing smile and more than anything, he had style.  About 6’2″, at least 180 pounds, dipped in delicious milk chocolate.  He was articulate with a drive about him that would impress any woman.  Master of his trades, he gives back to his community with God first, and lives his daily life to serve his Lord.

When he first gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek I wanted to chase his lips, but I held back.  I knew from jump that I didn’t want to just play with this one.  He was actually worth staying for.

Too perfect.  He had a physique that made you squint your eyes to know more — this man was so sexy.  And to think that a man this fine existed and gave a damn about the community was beyond me.  I wanted this to be about true friendship, so I didn’t pursue him to begin with, just kept my lip stick fresh and always pleasant.

As time went on he had officially become single and I… well that’s a whole OTHER post.  smh.  Slowly but surely we had encountered one another enough times to exchange ideas, and even schedule a few missed dates.  (He was very busy and I was occupied with my own affairs.)  One night I was listening to the playlist he  had emailed me earlier and decided to give him a call.  Our conversation was easy, and I couldn’t help but to ask him if he was sleeping with the two “lady friends” he had mentioned.

He said he was saving himself for marriage. Curious as you’d assume I’d be, I asked him to elaborate on the topic, considering I had never even thought about sacrificing such a function.  He then went on to say that after having women throw sex at him so easily for so long, he began to long for more.  (Understood.)  He told a story of a young woman back in college who approached him and said she would do him, just like that.  He then took her into the bathroom, did her in the mouth and drove her and his friends back to a spot where he told her that if she did his boys first, he would do her last.  The girl did his two friends, and in the end he was nowhere to be found.  After expressing how DEEP I thought that story was, he then went on to explain that sex is special and it’s something to be preserved for two people that love each other; and that it’s actually selfish to have sex when it’s outside of the sanctity of love and marriage.  “So are you saving yourself for marriage?” “Yes.”

There was a thick air between the phone lines and he parted for the night.  He had just got in from hanging out with a “lady friend” and I was becoming tired myself.

But  I couldn’t help feeling like, URRGGHHH???  Wtf?

Suddenly I was turned off by this God-blessed man because of his views on abstinence.  How terrible was I???  Not terrible, but ok, what’s up with the “It’s a turn off to know that someone I’m about to sleep with has had casual sex with other men.  How many other guys do sleep with this easily?”  Not his exact words, but you feel me. It’s like, the more degrees away from virginity you are, the less special you become.  The mother of the human race was a promiscuous woman, how can this paradigm be so?

I was feeling full, so I logged onto FaceBook and read an old blog from the Crunk Feminist Collective on Dating While Feminist, and tagged him and a few other men I knew in it, hoping to read some interesting responses.  (I soon after took the posting down because I didn’t want to offend him. But I just LOVE dialogue you know?) Anyway an ex boyfriend from childhood responded back with this:

“you deleted your link but here’s my reply:

i think waiting til marriage is a choice. my father told me he didnt feel right demanding i do it, because he didnt, but he advised it. i think i couldve waited (and i, as anyone, could be abstinent now) but i dont believe mans sexual nature becomes wanton until it is abused… (cont. in comments)

i dont think this has a thing to do with true love either. were two individuals to be EACH others first, after marriage, i’m sure the impulse to stray would be lessoned- but so-called”true love” is more so dependent upon the ability for both…
i wouldn’t be surprised if this was more of an issue the further back you go because a chaste daughter was valuable leverage when attempting to merge family fortunes” -Sahril

For a moment I thought about getting back with Sah for his introspection, but then I came back. lol Thank God for feminist men, whether they call themselves feminist or not.   I knew I still had a chance with this thing called love.

Why are we “saving” our vulvas, our anuses, our mouthes?   For whom, when so many of us don’t even know how to give ourselves a great vaginal orgasm.  (Clitoral orgasms are easily, but vaginal… smh… send me a savior.) I’m not saying that I’m out sleeping with every guy that I meet, no.  I’m saying that if I wanna take a guy home with me tonight, it’s none of your business!  And a woman who is various degrees of separation from virginity is just as special because life tells us so.  Not to say that the man doesn’t have a right to have a preference about who he doesn’t sleep with and why.  But I can’t help but to hate the idea that I’m selfish for engaging in sex before marriage/love/whatever.

I don’t want to save it when I know I want it, just to make a man think that I’m not as horny as I really am, and that my self respect is based upon whether or not I’m going to “give” myself to him.

Christian or no christian, my sex is my sex and I will have discernment with whomever I choose to bless with it.  I am not “giving” anything away, regardless of the shape of the vulva and it’s ancient symbols of penetration.  I’m still whole when the sex is done, and I NEVER feel guilty.  If anything, perhaps unsatisfied.

I want a man that will teach our daughter to love her vulva, name it and own it, decorate it with jewels because it’s in awe of God and Her awesomeness.  Teach her to know what it looks like when it’s healthy so that when it becomes ill, she is knowledgeable of how to treat it.    Show her that men respect women who respect themselves, and that means owning your sexuality, managing it in a real world, and having discernment with the who enters your domain because you possess the ability to give birth and contraception is not 100%.  Teach her to love her vulva deeply enough to transcend peer/dating pressure, and to engage only when she is ready and committed in love… and old enough to handle the consequences of life’s realities.  If she doesn’t choose abstinence, she will at least feel valued and knowledgeable enough to use contraception.

I love God with everything in me but I am just above this poetry book of a Bible and I cannot learn the truth about it’s history and then turn the other cheek.  God is bigger than that for me.  God is all around us and in us.  There has to be more to Her than this.