Month: May 2013

“I can’t take back the words I never said.”

Let’s discuss the importance of words shall we?

The effects they have on people, emotions, situations.

Poetry. 

I cried last night trying to explain to a friend how hard it is to pour your truth out trying to explain, reach out somehow, for some kind of comfort, and getting nothing but “That’s beautiful”s in return. 

I read Warsan Shire’s poetry, see Alysia Harris cry constantly on stage and know they must feel the loneliness I feel sometimes. Because it honestly isn’t about teaching all the time. Sometimes you want to know that someone shares the same kind of passion, pain or indifference that you do. And I guess maybe they can but they can’t express it how you do.

 

Let’s think about how sometimes, words are useless.  You can talk yourself blue, use every language you know and still not get someone to understand you. Not be able to make the Love stay and not be able to show someone what you want them to see. 

My ex taught me that. It was a hard lesson to learn.

It made me wonder what the point was, if you can communicate and not be felt. I didn’t write for a while. I didn’t even speak anything that made sense for a while. He asked me why all I did was quote rap lyrics lately when he knew I had more to me than that and I was unable to  tell him that I was afraid that what I said wouldn’t matter.

 

“Speak your mind, even if your voice  shakes.” – Maggie Kuhn

I read that a year or more ago and my first thought was. “I can’t tell my father how I really feel though..I can’t tell my mother what I want to do. I simply can’t.” And I remembered, they’re just words.

I have since then. 

And being vocal will mean losing many people, I’ll tell you now.

Men get scared when you constantly tell them your truth and cry when you want to.

Friends don’t always want honesty.

Parents may think you’re crazy.

If you think being a writer is lonely, being honest is even worse. 

And I can’t decide yet whether it’s worth it but I can tell you my heart feels the strain of words that fall on deaf ears as much as it felt the weight of unsaid words and I don’t know what’s better/worse but I DO know I can’t go back to being silent. 

The same way you can’t unfeel heartbreak, you can’t unthink a thought, you simply can’t go back to being mute when you find that you have a voice.

I love the word “No” and I use it often. Some days it’s said lower than I’d like because I say it with fear in my heart, but I say it nonetheless and try to make the look in my eye mean it.

Every time I say it I know I should be ready to defend it/myself. Either verbally or if need arises, physically. And it’s new. Because at first, as a woman, a daughter, a girlfriend, a sister, a friend, I didn’t know I could, I didn’t know I had the right to, Women are taught to be selfless, but now as all of these things, I realize I am all I have and not everyone,  in fact, very few people, actually care about what becomes of Me, it’s about what they can get. This too has been a hard lesson to learn and I’m still going through the Test phase. I may be failing a little.

“Your silence will not protect you.” -Audre Lorde

Deception.  I am naive when it comes to those I love.  I don’t believe that they lie to me and when I care, rose coloured glasses are a part of my everyday attire. So I probably walk right into situations because I am not always on guard and I believe I don’t have to live that way. I don’t want to. I think I may have to grow up and be a cynic but I still want the beauty and honesty. 

I am becoming one of those people who speak without the help of liquor. It scares people when they are sober. Weirdly enough, I express myself, but never bond. People know the stories but not what the protagonist feels and has felt.  

I listen to Etta James, Ray Charles, Sam Cooke and think “If I said things so plainly right now, he’d run” and wish I could have lived then. Back when we could frankly speak about our devotion, our adoration for another being, our pain, without needing to make it look pretty. I wish we could still be blunt and it wouldn’t be too crude for people to handle. 

I was listening to the Miseducation of Lauryn Hill last night and as Ex Factor, When it hurts so Bad and I used to love him drifted out through the speakers I thought “This is all that needed to be said and it was. We loved it because it was simple and honest, pure, and yet we can never simply say that’s what it was.”.

 

I’m nostalgic for a time where honesty in Love, in Life, was the norm. And I’ve never even known such a time. 

Now is the time when you’re a part of the minority if you don’t keep people at arm’s length. A time when you’re odd if you feel, and think.

A time when you’re the odd one out if you still cry and show that you’re alive. 

And I’m not dealing well with that. 

“This is crazy.” – Lauryn Hill

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Hard Candy: Sex and Maturity

I lost my virginity when I was 12.

It was in a toilet cubicle at a mall, to a 17 year old boy I was dating at the time and I could tell you it was halfway between consensual and I was coaxed into doing it.

He used a government issued condom and it lasted all of 5 minutes before I had to go catch my cab, sore and slightly bothered. [I’m lying, I cried, don’t ask me why, I’m not sure yet. Maybe because I’d always imagined the first time would be memorable, maybe because it was in a fucking toilet cubicle. Maybe because I was certain I really didn’t want to. Not like that. Not then.]

Now, someone may think “The fuck was she doing even looking at boys at that age?”

I reached puberty when I was 10. My breasts ballooned out and I developed hips which came with a sassy walk and I had to rush into womanhood. I felt that if my body was ready, my mind was too and I could truly live as a woman.  I was intelligent too, already in high school, quite mature if I do say so myself and carried this as my reason for dating a 17 year old at the time.

When one of my cousins found out I was dating a 17 year old he told me “You need to understand, you guys may connect but that’s only because he comes down to your level. This boy doesn’t think  like you. Don’t be fooled and don’t be like one of these girls who fall for it.” I was outraged. What did he know? How dare he assume that just because he wanted sex from every girl he encountered my boyfriend did too?

Oh well, Life happened.

It began to make me uncomfortable that all of a sudden all he wanted from me was sex.  Frankly, not only was he unattractive, he was a bit overweight and I preferred his clothed body to him sweating on top of me. Conversation too became bland and it just seemed to go nowhere.  I wanted to stop it all but felt the best thing to do was to simply let him get it over with when he wanted to in order to keep him and ignore it.

When I went from Indifferent to Mad, I didn’t have the balls to leave him so I cheated.  At that point sex was still pretty sacred to me but I convinced myself that if my virginity was gone, there really was nothing left, so I gave it away.

Eventually I told him, we broke up and when I told him I’d cheated once, he told me he’d cheated with 12 girls. In the space of a month and a half. Understand that he claimed he was a virgin and I’d be his first and only. Then that.

I was confused. Hurt. Evidently I hadn’t been as smart as I’d thought.

It took me approximately a year and a half to get over it.  The first relationship I’d been in had gone to foam so quickly and you know when you think you’re in love, regardless of the fact that you don’t know what love truly is at the time, you see a future with someone. It crashed.

My little 13 year old self decided I was a Woman now. I knew heartbreak, I knew sex, I was ready for the world. I spent the next 2 years having sex with whoever was interested and I didn’t find disgusting. Honestly, that was how my mature teenage self picked ’em.

By the time I was actually legal to have sex I’d had so much I wasn’t even remotely interested in it all.

Now we could go into all the experiences I had during that point in time but now is not the time for that.  I can tell you the basics, the slut shaming, the one night stands, occasionally feeling worthless, being fucked and left, using your feminine wiles to get what you want, I covered all that.

Now all of that was a long time ago and thankfully I made it out in one piece. I learned what I learned and life kept going.

Some girls aren’t so lucky.

It’s sad that a lot of us think as soon as puberty is reached one is ready to tackle sex and all that comes with it. Sayings like “After 12 go a jewa” [After 12 you eat] don’t help and young girls are constantly preyed on because they are both physically mature and naive.

I don’t know about my ex. He could have been using me, what a 17 year old was doing with a 12 year old despite my maturity is the question. The fact remained I could be easily persuaded at that time because I lacked a sense of Self and that alone I feel should make any person uncomfortable. The fact that the person you’re with could be reduced to a mere object  if you so choose. That they are THAT easily manipulated.

Today Batswana men were up in arms about the fact that the age of defilement would possibly be moved up from 16 to 18.  I’ll be honest, the only time they’re ever this collectively mad is when alcohol prices go up.

“What about my little High School girlfriend?”

Nna I’m still going to screw these young girls, I don’t care I’ll tell them not to tell.”

“But the young ones are so easy, why are they trying to scare us to the older women?”

And those who saw this for what it was were said to be overreacting.

How can you, as a grown man, see nothing wrong with complaining about the fact that you won’t be getting young girls into bed anymore? What’s your Life like and how does your mind work?

The number of people who passed jokes about sleeping with children and those who were hellbent on the government not getting away with taking away their right to screw young girls shocked me. Frankly, I found it quite disgusting.

They did not see the pedophilic undertones associated with their words.

A friend said “I Personally Think It’s An Attack On Women’s Sexuality. If There’s A Super Mature 17 Year Old Who Wishes To Explore Her Sexuality, Why Shouldn’t She Be Allowed To?”

And I see his point but to be frank, the mature 17 year old will probably do what she wants to anyway. That’s not the focus of all this.  This is what they feel they need to do to combat the defilement and statutory rape cases they get and I’m going to wait to see if it makes a difference.

On the one hand I think, why should anything change? We’ve been doing what we’ve been doing as we’ve been doing it and really, when has the threat of going to jail for a round of sex ever stopped anyone? On the other hand I think, maybe it’ll instill fear in those who’ve been going along with all this and make a difference, ANY difference.

Another friend asked why I wasn’t addressing women sleeping with boys and I said didn’t see women being the ones who were up in arms about the fact that they wouldn’t be able to be intimate with young boys therefore I addressed what was put in front of me. I’m not blind to the fact that women also use young men and whatnot, not in the least, but to see so many men unhappy with the fact that they wouldn’t be able to troubled me as much as the fact that everyone thought it was either funny or not that serious.

As mature as girls like to think they are, we don’t know anything about male/female relations/our bodies, our Selves until we grow. Personal experience teaches some and  observation teaches others.

Some people don’t make it through certain life experiences and I think we should strive to keep them away from sure harm.

We probably can’t stop these kids from having sex, I’m not sure we could stop those older than them from using them, but maybe.. Possibly.

I just wish we could have as few of these as possible. I haven’t figured out how yet but I’ll take whatever comes my way at this point.

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Really.

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Hide and don’t Peep

Growing up I always thought respectable women were supposed to be undesirable.  They were  the ones who reminded you of your mother’s strength and determination, your Sunday School teacher’s chaste nature, your grandmother’s wisdom, so finding them attractive would really honestly just be creepy.

I didn’t fully realize I still thought this way until I saw a picture of Lauryn Hill that slightly aroused me. I was confused. Would I do Lauryn Hill? I’d like to think not. But why? And my first response was “Because I respect her.”  I sat and thought “This is some bullshit.”

See one thing you need to know about me in order to understand this is, when I think, I seem to have a slight case of split personality disorder.  We argue, we exchange different opinions and whoever wins, does.

So I had to have a little counselling session with myself to figure out why, as a person who thinks they’re fairly progressive, I still have these thoughts stuck in the crevices of my mind.

I realized I hadn’t covered all bases when it came to unlearning what I’ve been taught about women’s sexuality and their freedom to make choices and live as they please. I had to ask myself, “What bullshit it this? It needs to go. You have sex, does that make you any less respectable? You know it doesn’t, so forget this mess.”

I was ashamed. Confused too. I understood that this was as a result of what I’d been raised to believe, that women who enjoy sex/the company of men don’t deserve any form of respect, nor could they possibly be intelligent because all intelligent women were chaste and had better things to do.

I won’t lie, it’s something I’m still working on internally.  I didn’t think it would be this difficult but sometimes I slip up and have to remind myself that it’s the wrong way to think, and that I know better.  We’re a few months into the struggle.

While passing a group of Muslim women I told my friend how I find women in Niqabs and Burqas beautiful, which may be odd since you can’t really see their features, but I still feel that way.  He said “Of course you do, you wanna know what’s under there, it’s the mystery.” And I had to explain to him that it really had nothing to do with that.  I’m attracted to them as I’m attracted to women clad in modern day clothing : jeans, miniskirts etc.  Their attire, if at all it plays any part in it, has next to nothing to do with how I view them.  It could be her eyes, her walk, the way she sits, really, it’s her presence.  As it could be for any other girl on the street.

Of course many people are of the mind that these women are attractive BECAUSE they cover up and that makes them “different” and there’s a certain thrill associated with tainting the “purity” associated with them. Simply, they are fetishized, and a lot of people seem to not see anything wrong with it.

On that topic, I feel we should see beauty where it is simply because it’s there. Not because we want to conquer new territory or “try something different”.  Being fetishized has to be one of the most painful things actually because you’re in a sense dehumanized.  It’s not about you, as a person, it’s about that tiny part of you that someone chooses to fixate on, and you then lose your identity and become just that.

But of course this will possibly fall on deaf ears. It’s a process to locate and uproot the foundation of the wrong thoughts that you have.

For many of us lately it’s hard to realize that human beings are so much more than bodies.  That we have the capacity to be both sexual and spiritual, focused and open minded. That we aren’t boxed in by labels until we choose to be and create our Selves around them.

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Back to Black

Oppressor: Well I’m not harming you directly anymore, why are you still mad?

Oppressed: Because I want you to apologize.

Oppressor: But it’s done.

Oppressed: Not for me it isn’t, which is why I can’t move on.

Oppressor: I can’t do anything about how you are now. It’s your fault you’re still sad, let go. Look at you, you’re pathetic.

Oppressed: But….

And this is how it goes.  I never understand why as people we put so much weight on apologies, especially in today’s society where a person with a true conscience is hard to find.

In an ideal world, empathy would be normal, we wouldn’t need to remind people to sympathize.  Remorse would be a rare yet powerful thing to feel, as would shame.  We would not know the confusion that comes with being a victim, we wouldn’t know what it means to put yourself in another’s shoes just to try and figure out why they act a certain way.

In an ideal world, equality would not be something to fight for, freedom wouldn’t be an illusion, we would not be fighting our own thoughts everyday to remind ourselves that we are worthy of respect, or that respecting another human being is necessary, right.

I have never seen, and still don’t, the point in expecting oppressors to all of a sudden feel remorse because you can finally show the pain that they’ve caused you.  Do you not understand that the whole time they hurt you, they knew they were causing you pain? It was intentional. They chose to ignore their conscience,  their “humanity”, therefore there’s truly nothing to appeal to anymore.

As I thought about some Black people’s need to see some sort of genuine remorse, a sign of the accepted equality from those who have hurt them over the years, The Whites, The Boers, basically, the colonizers, I said to myself, Really, it’s kind of like a woman who was abused for years on end going back to her husband, scars still visible, confidence shattered and heart still bruised, and saying ” I don’t care what you think of me anymore, but I need you to say Sorry for what you did.” Does it make sense? How do you think he’ll react?

Can people accept that they may never get an apology for what has happened? That there may never be any real change between our relationship with them and, to quote Janelle Monae “… [they’ll] add us to equations but they’ll never make us equal”? Can we accept that they may not even think they were wrong?

I read once somewhere that the whole Black  community needs counselling. I was young at the time and remember immediately being offended. What did they mean? I understand if they mean Black Americans but we’re fine. Besides how dare they make it seem like we aren’t able to get up off the ground? Don’t they know that black don’t crack? We shall overcome, always. Fuck their counselling.

As I’ve grown I’ve picked up on the subtle and apparent things I missed out on growing up.

Firstly, media.  I remember in High School when Obama got elected for the first term.  People were walking around campus with “GO OBAMA!” signs and I remember thinking “Man, the hell? We’re in Botswana though.” It all seemed disconnected to me and yet I marveled at how the American media could get us all into a frenzy over what was seemingly none of our business. “He’s Black, he’ll help” was the general feeling and I agreed for a bit until I remembered that even back in Slave times, there was always a House Nigger. The one who stayed close to Massa and made sure things ran smoothly. There was always the villager who learned the White man’s tongue in order to easily communicate when and how the people  planned to fight back. What was stopping him from being one such? The fact that he has sat by and watched what’s happening to the image and life of Assata Shakur happen, has been a sure sign for me.

I was pleased at Black people’s excitement over another’s advancement, and yet saddened by their naivete and how years of wearing “The Mask” as Maya Angelou put it, had actually made them forget that there is a bigger picture.

I’ve learned that we are not unrelated. People of Colour in the diaspora, and us, we feel a certain way that others cannot.  We understand pain, the Blues, we understand another’s behaviour not on a scientific level, but through feelings. We watch a news clip where an exasperated Black man jumped of a building and we don’t try and figure out why through interviews and behavioural analysis, we know that sometimes, things just get heavy on the heart. We aren’t bewildered when a starving mother who lives in the slums murders herself and her kids, we are saddened because it happens, and we know.

A lot of people are unaware of the fact that the media plays a huge role in the lack of drive and peace People of Colour seem to be susceptible to.  We look at the surface of it, yes they show us as unintelligent, rowdy neanderthals. Pawns in schemes. Loose, talent-less individuals. Sheep. Nothing worth being respected and a lot of people think “Oh no, I’m unaffected by it.” But do you consider just how much you take in on the daily? Commercials, the internet, news, shows, cartoons, magazines, advertisements, almost all of them have a hidden agenda that they’re pushing and a lot of us take them in.

I flipped through a magazine the other day and was furious.  Why were the women portrayed as airhead chefs whose main mission in life is to ooze sex appeal? Teen magazines that teach young girls to get their degree, but always remember to look pretty while doing so because a guy may be watching.  Married women who’re being emotionally abused being told to pray about it because God doesn’t like divorce and I decided, the media isn’t here for your benefit. You, in the grand scheme of things, are just a customer and a guinea pig. A part of a system that one can never really escape, but one doesn’t really need to be an active part of either.

Young Batswana men wearing fake Trukfit and calling us bitches as we cross the streets.  12 year olds with barely noticeable breasts trying their hardest to walk with their asses out. Parents who are too busy making money and keeping up appearances to bother with their children. Who are unable to discipline their kids because Dr Phil said not to, and a generation, a people, who’s convinced that bettering yourself makes one pretentious, and we still think we’re unaffected because we’re in Africa and some of us have never really had any real political struggles.

Raised knowing Botho means that for a lot of us, being treated badly comes as a shock. We don’t know how to act and that could possibly explain why we wait around, attempting to appeal to others’ humanity, but to quote Assata ““Nobody in the world, nobody in history, has ever gotten their freedom by appealing to the moral sense of the people who were oppressing them”.

You cannot go to your rapist and ask him to return your dignity/joy, it is something that you have to gather for yourself and force to thrive.

As people, we cannot continue to separate ourselves based on trivialities like we don’t have better things to do like repair our own Spirits and learn.   We’ve gotten comfortable with the abuse and the feeling of being Less Than and we don’t even know it.  We walk around with inflated egos based on the fact that one is lighter/ thinner than the other and raise kids who are willing to act mentally deficient by choice because that’s what we teach them and we’re shocked at the fact that we’re still treated like shit?

That we still get the “You speak so well, not like the others” mess. The way certain White people look at you like the owner of a proud puppy when you can use a smartphone and how the moment racial issues come up, they’re quick to play the victim too and attempt to relate.

Because a lot of us are still happy to be servants and lapdogs.

It’s true.

It’s the way ten Black people will squeeze on a bench to give the White foreign exchange student space for 3 people to sit comfortably.  How we can pronounce their names but they can’t pronounce ours because they’re “too hard” and we giggle it along with them and allow it. How we laugh at the “deep” ones of our race and our men are trying so damn hard to be “real niggas” and abandon as many kids as they can while drinking themselves into a stupor. How we as women try to hard to be Ass Out, Airhead Bad Bitches and we still think we’ve somehow earned Respect from the world at large? Do we respect ourselves?

Listen.

You can be a Real Nigga if you understand that the only reason that they came to get us, truly, was because we could do what they couldn’t. Niggers were strong, intelligent. That’s why even in the modern day they try to pin Aliens on the pyramids because they can’t wrap their heads around how years ago Coloured people were able to do what they did. Niggers were strong, intelligent and hardworking. If you could be that, then by all means, be a Real Nigga.

If by being a Bad Bitch you meant you focused on yourself, worked hard to better yourself by any means necessary and were strong, intelligent and assertive, I’d respect that.

But do you?

We fight so hard internally it seems for freedom and what have we done with the little we have?

A lot of us don’t even know how far we have to go, what we need, who we are.

A lot of us are earning the title of Modern Day Coons.

What are we doing?

Evidently we aren’t surviving anymore, it seems to me we’re rushing towards destruction willingly and trying to pretend to enjoy it.

You, as a person of Colour, whether male or female, what are you doing for your Life?

What do you know?

The meek will not inherit the Earth, they will die. They told your ancestors that because it’s one thing to enslave the body, and another to enslave the mind.

And so I ask you again, what are you doing and what do you know?

“‘Bend over. Touch your toes. Lift her titties. Examine his balls.’ It damn near sounds like a hip-hop song, but it’s slavery at its peak.. A circus for all the freaks,they’ll warn you “Caution when you speak, can’t afford the truth to leak”..”

Sunni Patterson, We Made It
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Who’s your Daddy?

What’s in a good Dom?

I’ve been asking myself lately and it seems I just got the bare essentials down.

  • Respectful
  • Assertive
  • Understanding
  • Open minded
  • Trustworthy

Everything for me really comes after or under these. 

Now I’ll admit I’m fairly new to D/s relationships.  Had we discussed this months ago the answer to “What makes a good Dom?” probably would have been “The ability to use your body to his satisfaction and push your sexual limits without ever being inconsiderate/disrespectful in the process” and as much as that may be true for the sexual aspect of things, I’ve learned it isn’t limited to that, as is a common misconception.

When one mentions that they’re submissive, people usually assume that it means s/he is into relationships where they can be used and abused.  That they enjoy being degraded and made to feel “less than”. As much as this is true for people unfamiliar with the lifestyle, I’ve discovered many potential Doms think this way too lately.  They don’t care to learn about You, your preferences, your limits, your character, to a lot of them, you’re merely someone to sexually dominate, a nymphomaniac acquiescent to his whims. 

 

And this is okay if one so wishes for it to be so, but really, not every man who can tell you what to do and express himself is Dominant.  Some only receive the title because we make the mistake of allowing ourselves to be deceived by the illusion and give them the title.

The best thing you can do as a sub is find an intelligent Dom.  Really, after a while, the “I want you”s and “You’re such a dirty sluts” become boring.  A man who’s able to express himself well and understands the importance and power of words will always keep you interested.  Plus a well read man can teach you plenty. 

As a sub you give yourself to someone and trust them to better you and help you better yourself.  This is something worth remembering.

Dominating is not about [just] using force.  If the only way he can get you to do things is by being in your presence and intimidating you with his, I don’t think he’s doing it right.  I’ve found it’s a combination of genuinely wanting to please your Sir and his ability to influence you verbally, especially in the case of long distance relationships.  You can always tell when a man is naturally dominant because of his ability to easily lead you to submit, it’s in his nature.  A command from him sounds different, his body language too, it’s the look in eye of certainty. Unmistakable.

Doms who make you dread  being intimate with them may possibly be abusive.  If you can’t open up to him because he makes you feel like a sissy or you dread lovemaking because he seems to completely disregard your comfort levels and safety, it would be best to leave. As I said, some men just want a sex slave and will take advantage of a sub simply for their own pleasure.

If your partner at any point makes you feel inadequate for having limits, he probably doesn’t respect you and as you know, respect is integral in such a set-up.  One who doesn’t appreciate you will never be good for you, this is key to remember as a new sub.  A lot of people might want to use your inexperience to their advantage and cheat, abuse and put you in dangerous situations and state that you just don’t understand how it all works.

 Your Dom should be the one person you feel safest with.  The intimacy shared, I’ve found, transcends that of an average boyfriend/girlfriend relationship because you bare yourself to them. You trust them to have your best interests at heart, more so than in an average relationship and if at any point you find your safety/peace may be compromised, it’s probably time to go.

Many men  prey on emotionally vulnerable women, convince them they’re submissive and use them.  I think a sub is much more vulnerable to meeting douchebags than the average woman.  Many assume we’re weak, so they patronize. Others, assuming the same thing, think they can easily walk into your life and immediately start bossing you around.  You meet those who will try their first attempt at choking on you and not realize that he needs to be attentive to your body too. Those quick to tie you up but with no patience to learn how. Those who don’t understand that you are not weak, but nor will you be strong all the time. 

Submissives are not unable to take care of themselves. No, we aren’t all messes who need a partner to tell us how to live. The fact that we’re perceived to be and portrayed as helpless is not only offensive, it probably keeps many from admitting that they are because of the shame associated with being considered one.  

We choose to give ourselves in such a way because it’s what feels right to us. I personally desire a level of intimacy that transcends what my peers are accustomed to. I want to know that my partner knows me, cares for and understands me and can stand on the days when I’m crawling.  

My Sir taught me the importance of friendship and understanding, and as his sub I was grateful for every single lesson. He set a very high standard  for the next one and I only wish that everyone could at least have had one such partner, it would save a lot of people from heartache and help others understand that no, it’s not just about spending time on your knees and being dragged around. 

Calling someone Daddy/Sir/Master is not to be taken lightly. You are giving parts of yourself, the most important bits, to someone and as romantic as it may sound, we live in a world where most people destroy rather than create. 

The kind of appreciation partners in a D/s relationship show for one another may be  foreign in this day and age.  It’s easier to assume that a sub is simply weak and worshiping the first Alpha that comes along, but I assure you there’s a certain strength that’s required to open up to someone as we do. A very real and beautiful strength coupled with honest vulnerability. 

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Becoming your Mother

We think intelligence shields us from emotion. Then Life proves us wrong.  As one prone to depression and mood swings I can tell you that when your mind sets upon an idea, no matter how harmful it may be to you, your intellect tends to contribute to your [emotional/internal] downfall. All mantras and affirmations are thrown out the window as phrases like “You are beautiful and you should love yourself” lose precedence to the more cynical “They lied. You know better than to trust in the words of people.”

 

I’m no stranger to body image issues. We can all relate to feelings of inadequacy and most of us have had and continue to have the 2 AM “I will change my Life in the morning” moments when everything seems attainable with a little effort and possibilities seem to lie in wait, to grow under the guidance of the soon to be rising Sun.  I however, have not paid attention to these issues for years.  The logical part of me took over and I decided, if I can walk, run when I need to [my smoker’s lungs don’t allow for random running] and fit into my clothes, I’m fine. 

Until recently. 

 

During one of my not so appealing bouts of Fuck My Life  someone said to me, “Why do you look such a mess? I mean I’d still fuck but, I don’t know you to be this way.” And as much as I laughed it off, it’s been on mind for probably over a month now.

Why? Maybe because he said it at a time when my mind was ready and willing to accept every unflattering thing one could say in order to justify it’s already despondent thoughts at the time.  Maybe because, being an emotional masochist, a part of me enjoys having something to add to the file marked “Reasons Why You Sometimes Really Ain’t Shit” in my mind. 

 

It’s a funny thing when you think about it. Really, when one’s going through a time when all they’d really like to do is die, why would they even bother with looking pretty for the outside world? I’m not worried about being hit on by you, I’m worried about how I’m going to be able to leave the house tomorrow, assuming I make it through tonight.  A “You don’t understand, things are rough” didn’t seem to quite make him understand why I was as I was and so I left it.

 

While discussing it with a certain Sir he said to me “I don’t even know why you’d pay attention to that, you’re so smart. Have you..Do you even see yourself though? Goddamn.” And he looked at me in a way I haven’t seen in a while. In awe. 

 

The whole experience made me realize, what you know doesn’t save you from making silly decisions, accepting less than you deserve and words of affirmation could be nothing more than pretty lies if you tell yourself so.

 

I know a  Lady, she’s beautiful, young, ambitious and tied down to a man who treats her like surplus meat.  Does she know she can do better? Yes.  Is she lacking options? No. So why is she staying?

 

I said yesterday that I realize we’re becoming Women. We’re growing and even though our private school education, feminism and all round privilege made us think we’d be far from the women our mothers became, at the end of the day, somehow, we end up there. 

 

We’ve grown to undermine our mothers’ experiences and really it seems, only age and our own parallel experiences will humble us. And I’m taking them as they come.  We’re taking them as they come. 

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“A girl child ain’t safe..”

My cousin says he loves me “despite our differences”.  Our “differences” being he wants to sleep with me every time he gets drunk in my presence and I resist his advances and shun him.  He once asked me “Why do you give others and not me?” I still don’t know how to answer his questions.

He speaks to me and stares at my breasts, watches me walk out of the room and I feel his eyes on my thighs. When my male friends visit he wins them over by sharing alcohol with them and cracking jokes. They talk about the latest movies and attractive females, they spend so much time looking at him, paying attention to him that they don’t notice that every time I get up to get a drink I move further away. That he constantly tells them how much he “loves” me and I never say anything back. Not even smile. 

My mother constantly asks him to stay with us when they’re away. I wonder why because she knows. I wonder if  she thinks what I told her when I was thirteen has changed. And I’ve learned that sometimes it’s best to fight alone, quietly, than to win people over to your cause. 

I watch For Colored Girls and observe the dance teacher chat gaily to the man who will soon be her rapist. He walks her home and she twirls for him as she explains something or the other about the music she loves so much. I watch her and feel sorry.  Observing her enthusiasm, naivete, is like seeing a child run into the street after a ball with a speeding car on the road. Observing her is tragic. I think “But all women should know never to be so at ease.”

My body and I have an agreement. Never be comfortable around these men. We cannot afford to be.  We do not need to be. It simply is not advisable to be.  I sometimes glance at my closest male friends and wonder, what would it take for him to be like them? It can happen, but will it?

 

I think back to the time my boyfriend forced himself on me and my 12 year old self decided it couldn’t be rape because when I agreed to date him it obviously meant I knew he’d want my body and I had somehow agreed. I think of the time when my friend came back from a date no longer a virgin and no longer a believer n the Good in humans and I cannot see what it is about this Life that should make us calm,leave us at ease.

I hear men who think we should appreciate their grabbing us on the street and tell us that we modern day women don’t know how to take compliments and think, how are we wrong for not taking unwanted sexual advances and rape as flattering?

I think people who tell us we’re too wound up are the worst kind of Ignorant. How would you be if you knew smiling at a stranger on the street could be reason enough in his eyes to follow you home and have his way with you? That your uncle,father,brother could decide that you wearing shorts at home is a sign for him to come get it? That your drunk boyfriend could decide it’s funny to lock you up in a room and have his friends rape you as he watches?

Would you still be as carefree and giggle with men? Would you flirt so openly? Dress as you please and walk the streets with a guy you met last night? Would you find it as easy to go out and “socialize” and be as comfortable sitting in a room with your boyfriend? All things considered,would you?

I always say if the average man were to have a sex change tomorrow, he’d have a nervous breakdown in a week at the most. You don’t know what it’s like to be us. What it takes to be strong and appear normal when all you think about is how you might be a waiting statistic.

The human female is probably the most preyed upon creature on this Earth. And most of the time it seems we’re expected to watch while we’re devoured. Welcome it even.

Frankly,not only is a girl child not safe in a family full of men,she isn’t safe in a society that doesn’t understand nor respect,applaud, her will to survive.

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Corporate America still thinks you’re a Coon

This morning I had one of those “I can’t even get mad because this is just ridiculous” moments as I read about Pepsi’s latest Mountain Dew  advert.

The ad depicts a bruised White woman on crutches in a police station attempting to point out her attacker. There are five Black  men and a goat named Felicia in a line-up.  The goat, Felicia, proceeds to go “..You should’ve given me some more, I’m nasty” in what could be a Latina/Black accent, then “Ya better not snitch on a playa.” The White detective eggs her on by pointing out that the possible assailant is wearing a du-rag, which the goat isn’t, then “Come on, it’s the one with the four legs”. Then the goat says “Keep your mouth shut-ah” [Sound like Trinidad James?] and the Lady runs off screaming “I can’t do it.”The punchline then drops, the detective going “She’s just gonna Dew it.” as he sips his bottle of Mountain Dew.

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The ad was apparently part of a series developed by rapper Tyler, The Creator, who’s known for his shocking antics and which would explain the appearance of Odd Future’s Left Brain as “Beyonte” in there, but I’m still fairly confused. 

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Responding to the complaints, Pepsi says it immediately removed the ad from all Mountain Dew channels and requested Tyler to do the same. It was, however, still available on certain YouTube accounts and the company said: ‘We understand how this video could be perceived by some as offensive, and we apologize to those who were offended.’

Are they fucking serious?

Now I know nothing of the advertising world but if what I’ve seen from Mad Men is anything to go by, there’s a lot of consultation and explaining of concepts, market research and such before an ad is made. You want to tell me everyone just kept on approving this atrocity to the point where the concept was bought, created, and attempted to be sold to us? Who were they marketing this to anyway? Hillbilly racists? Self hating Black people who can take blatant disrespect with a grain of salt? People who have a sense of humor?  Who was supposed to find this appealing?

Why would they think it’s appropriate to blatantly depict Black men as criminals? To go as far as to add a goat to the line-up and drop the not so subtle hint that in fact, Black men are STILL viewed as animals?

And their “apology”. Good God. This is like if I walked over to someone, defecated on their shoe then looked at them and said “Oh, I understand how this might be seen as inappropriate, sorry” then handed them a tissue and went away. Absolute fuckery.

But then let’s be frank, you wouldn’t do that to someone who’d beat your ass now would you?

The only reason they approved it is because they know Black Americans won’t really do much will they? We no longer march for causes with a passion and we no longer boycott what we don’t approve of. 

Will anyone sue Pepsi? Will they stop buying Tyler’s albums? No, probably not. 

Some will get mad, some won’t care and others will tell the rest that we don’t know how to take a joke.

As for Tyler, I can’t say I expected better from him.  I respect him as an entertainer and he has managed to use shock value to his advantage countless times, his career is based on it, but I honestly cannot for the Life of me begin to understand where he was going with this, and if it was supposed to be funny, how. 

With Black boys constantly being portrayed as thugs and hoodlums, being locked up for crimes they didn’t commit, having their identity stripped from them daily and getting shot over bags of skittles, you really mean to tell me they LET this be released?

I guess it’s time to be straightforward, they are showing us they will never respect us and we are showing them we’re alright with that. 

It’s the same with the Adidas Handcuff sneakers last year and Volkswagen’s “Get In. Get Happy” ad. 

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In music I could liken it to Rick Ross glorifying date rape on a song and still having women who think the rest of the world “Just didn’t get it.” Didn’t get what? That he said it’s alright, funny even, to drug a woman and have sex with her, without her consent?

But then again, it’s just music right? They’re just ads right?

No, Corporate America isn’t letting you know that they think you’re not worth being respected. That they know they can still create and ad reminiscent of  something that would appear on TV in the 50s and just like then, you’ll laugh and take it. That your so called Freedom means nothing to you as it does to them and you will always be Niggers in their eyes. No, they aren’t saying that at all. 

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The art of loving a travelling man

He said “There’s only one person I love. Myself, alone. I don’t want this other shit.” and I wondered why the girls who cry over him, do.

When you’ve heard a man express to you that he will always come first? Firstly, do you not hear him? Second, why burden yourself with the task of attempting to change him?

There are men who will never belong to you.   Men who do not take chances with affection and would sooner cut loose and forget about you than risk remembering your smile before he falls asleep. Men who will reach for you one moment and fold his arms up the next. And you have to remember that sometimes, it’s nothing personal. ‘

It’s not about him refusing to love You, it’s about him preserving His heart, in his eyes. You are merely a statistic, the faceless embodiment of possibilities that he is not willing to explore.

Often we assume that a man who will not cling to you, no matter how much he may seem to have an interest in you, is flawed. Why? Because we assume he’ll be back, he just needs time to “figure himself out”? We assume we will be the exception to the rule and we will change his Life by showing him the wonders of monogamy and the Beauty of faithful, committed love.

But have you ever once observed a man without expectation? Dated him, slept with him, and merely wanted to learn him as a human being that you interact with. Sometimes we get the most out of being a part of someone’s Life simply by being the observer.  The rocks on the shore that experience both the crashing waves and the water’s caress when at Peace, and still remain as they are, as it’s in their nature to be, stable. Sometimes the water’s turmoil is none of your business. Sometimes your mission is not to stop the crashing waves.

Which is why I listened when he said we were alright, and was only briefly annoyed when he left two days later.  I’d observed him long enough to know that what he’d said was a lie because he holds eye contact when he lies then breaks it quickly to hide the guilt. I wasn’t mad when he lashed out at me a week later because it had nothing to do with me, and so I laughed it off. I did not think of him for a month, he lived as he pleased, and when he saw it convenient, he called. We met. We argued. We drank. I went home. I felt my heart begin to get confused and my mind remind it that this was as it was. That we know him as he is and no, we will not be The One.

The One to teach him about Love, he has known it.

The One to tie him down, he has a mother to be committed to.

The One that got away, that spot’s taken.

We will not be The One to do anything but Be.

He said he loves it when girls get mad at him, and laughed. Why? Because he wants to know that he makes them feel what his Ex caused him to feel. I however, as I told him, am a narcissist who feels what she wants as she wants, and unlike the others, I do not stay mad.  I do not stay caring.

Like my friend.  She had similar experiences with him and continues to be angry, months later. She doesn’t understand why I can still speak to him, sit on his lap, share a cigarette with him and even look him in the eye, when she can’t.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s twisted. Who does that?” she says, holding back tears that are months overdue.

I ask her if she didn’t see that he was self-centered from the beginning and she goes quiet.

Did she want to love him? I ask. She looks away.

I ask why, she says he was “nice”.

I ask why she didn’t just appreciate it and leave it at that.

You see, he may be self-centered but he remains respectful.  Apart from refusing to fall in love, there is nothing about him that would make a woman feel bad. Nothing that he says nor does in any way disrespects women, and yet many of us will choose to hate men like him simply because they can’t be tied down.

It doesn’t seem logical that we’re holding on to dreams we’ve been sold by The Notebook, controlled by a need to have a better half, to the point where we hate the people we can’t train and seduce into submission.

Do we even bother to get to know the people we so desperately want to be linked to? Do you  know what triggers him? Will you be able to accept that sometimes they will need to go? To be their own person? Will you trust them? Do you know that a relationship actually requires understanding and not just tagged Facebook pictures and Goodnight texts? Do you really?

Will you respect that person enough to let them Be? Even if that means not always Being with you.

Can you understand that sometimes being there for or with someone doesn’t always mean possessing them?

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