Femininity my ass

Hold the mutha effin phone. I've been browsing the internet ( I should get my behind out of bed to tell you the truth) when I found this blog.  It's a bunch of people talking about how ugly black women with tattoos are.   How tattoos make them look unfeminine, unattractive and trashy.  What the hell ever.  Black man, I haven't been feminine and attractive to you since the day I was born.  Why are you allowed to define my femininity?

I'm getting this tattoo, not in rebellion, but in celebration.  I have been alone most of my life.  Every person who was supposed to love and care for me didn't.  The ones who have are a Godsend.  I found an amazing artist who is going to help me accomplish something I've wanted for a long time. I seldom do things because they make me more attractive to others.  When I have, it has lit my ass on fire like an inflamed hemorrhoid.

I've gotta do me.  I will be known as Dr. _____ someday.  I will have a beautiful phoenix half sleeve tattoo. I am beautiful. Having these things doesn't not detract from that.   Having them does not add to that. They are yet another element of who I am.

Option-less

Feast and famine are first cousins.

There was Ricardo. We went on one date and I couldn't bring myself to go out again.  I just didn't get the right vibe.  I felt like it was all staged. Very bootycall-esque.  He said the right things did the right things, but when it came down to it, I don't think he came away from it knowing, or wanting to much about me as a person.

Then Seth, I guess I'll never see him again.  I'm getting weary of HMAC and I think I'll take a break for a bit.  He hasn't been there when I've been there so...I'm kinda over it. Disappointed, but over it nonetheless.

Then there was The Needle Man.  I'm getting that awesome tattoo and he was totally flirting with me.  However, I'm going to chalk it up to harmless flirting and move on. Why, pray-tell? I did some google stalking and he's taken.  Like about to walk down the aisle of doom taken. Oh, well.

Maybe I need to find a new hangout, maybe I need to stop hanging out and work on Ph.D/Ed.D stuff.  I figure it's good to work on my essays now even though it's three years down the road.  I found a school where the GRE score doesn't count and they're pining for women of color.  $$$Caching$$$

There were many, and now there are none. Go figure.

I need to shower, go grocery shopping, and get busy. I'm bored, but what's new.

Be still biznatch

"No."

That's essentially what I've told God. He's told me be still and I’ve pretty much screamed “No” like a defiant toddler. Occasionally I'll say "Eh, maybe...alright but only this once." But seldom do I say "Sure!"

There are times when I'm at peace with my life and I'm happy to be still and let God do His thang. But that's only when His plan is going according to my plan. Let’s take now for example. About a month ago I met *Dave. He’s a musician and periodically plays open mic nights at my favorite hangout. The last time I saw him, we connected. He’s funny, intelligent, socially conscious and nerdy; I’d like to get to know him better. We left that night with abstract plans (that was my fault) of "See you next week," and "Yeah, you should come hangout at ___ sometime."

For the past week I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I just wanted to see him. So, last night, like I usually do, I went to open mic to do some homework, "run" into him, and give him my number. To my dismay, he wasn’t there...at least when I was. I left early because of the creepy grandfather figures who continued to proposition endless love-making sessions that made my ovaries shrivel up and want to die.

Our conversations were simple and effortless. I can’t force it, but I also can’t force the thought of him out of my mind. Trust me, I’ve tried. This horoscope probably doesn’t help:

"It's time for whispers, Taurus, for secret thoughts and tender, romantic exchanges. Your own planet, loving Venus herself, has a surprise arranged for you, too. You know how much she loves romance, so prepare yourself for quite the week. You'll definitely need some privacy; well, to be honest, you'll need a lot of privacy, thanks to this lovely lady's plans. Someone you've been thinking about has been thinking of you, too. Together with some startling news from Mercury, the master of communication who will enter Libra and your house of intimate moments this week, you two may actually be able to get together and share those thoughts...."

The next time I see him I have to remember that he’s not feeling the same things I am. I can’t behave as if we’re on the same page. That will just lead to disappointment. I have to try and get to know him better. I just want to make sure this doesn’t fall by the wayside. I’m ready for this. But, I just have to trust God and, for the time being, be still.

I am the umpire

I called it: They're engaged.

My friends all called me to make sure that I knew before I came blindly into work; I'm grateful for my friends.

I feel badly for her. I can't fathom surviving in a marriage such as theirs. But I don't have to, because I won't have one such as theirs.

I'll have my own someday. The thought of that makes me smile.

For now, I'm driving to Carlisle to talk about my Phoenix tattoo.

I'm grateful for every single thing that has happened in my life.

Still

I haven't thought about him for awhile. He began dating another -- a friend, and that hurt for a long time. But now, I'm at a place where I 1) don't think of him/them often 2) if I do think of him I may long for him for a moment but then I remember his addiction and how it eats at him and the longing and sorrow pass 3) I think of him for who he is and what we stood for and I'm glad we're not a "we" anymore.

I've begun "dating" again. Although good men are such a commodity that they seem to have an upper hand in this itty bitty town (perhaps state) I call home. I also struggle being here. But I struggle leaving. My life was determined by so much movement for awhile it's been nice to sit and be still. But, then I don't want to be stagnant. I've found a home base which is eerily similar to my safety net from the past, and I'm okay for awhile. I'd like to beef up my savings, and be teetering on the positive end of the financial balance beam before I make a move. I think that's what God wants me to do. Get my savings, credit, and general self together and then walk in the way I should go.

Make believe

I had a great day today. I didn’t do things as a reaction to him. I didn’t long for him and what we had, could’ve had, or should’ve had. I didn’t hate him for what he never gave me. When I talked about him --if I talked about him -- I discussed him as an entity separate from myself. I spoke, I think, objectively, not void of emotion, but without emotional affect. I spoke of him in the past without possibility or hope for a future. He was something that happened to me, no longer something that defined me. Last night and today I had conversations with people who fed the intellectual cravings I’d desired for so long. I got to share my philosophy impart my ideologies, and feel the way I felt without fear of judgment or abuse. I hadn’t had that for quite some time.

Today was growth. I sat in my favorite chair journaling with my dog at my side recalling a conversation that had just occurred and feeling my growth but incapable of acknowledging its need for a name. I felt more satisfied than I had before because satisfaction was born from a moment and not a search. Over the past few months I’ve been searching for happiness, for satisfaction, for peace, for me. But those things are lost in the seeking. They lie quietly in the moments of serenity. They are the spawn of acceptance -- not complacency -- acceptance in the purest form: “the fact of being accepted: approval” I approved of myself today. I stamped a red rubber stamp, sans the bureaucracy, on my flesh. To say that I loved myself would be doing an injustice to what transgressed. I have always “loved myself.” Yet did not approve, at least, as I should have. To approve of oneself, one’s history, reality and response to the preceding is the greatest peace. That was gift to myself.

Thinking of the joy that I hear in Emily’s voice when she speaks of her wife is ecstasy. To think that someone who went through so much has found what they have desired is exhilarating. Not because I hope to find that someday, but because someone already has. I hear in her voice the love that I dreamt existed before I met him,  felt as I loved him, and began to forget and as he ignored his love for me. Hearing that truth, that clarity in her voice was a soothing relief to a heart that lay singed and wizened from pain. I’m glad that she has found what she has, because now I know that what I craved as a little girl doesn’t only exist in the land of make believe.

a difference

I'm at a different place right now. Although the same is true literally, that is not the context in which I speak.

We, he and I, had a conversation last night that scared me. Thinking about it now makes me nervous and fear-filled trembles take refuge in my body. He screamed at me. He was upset at something I said and he screamed until his voice cracked.

Last night, as I lay my head down on my pillow, the last thoughts were those of him -- us. I woke 4 hours after the original positioning to find myself full of fear. Riddled with terror I looked back to times when he would hit things, and slam his head against walls. I awoke very frightened. So frightened I wanted to cry.

He shouldn't treat me this way. I won't let him talk to me like that anymore. It's not fair and it's not nice.