Gentleman

I had at least 3 weeks to prepare for Cupid’s Journal. All I had to do was create a poem about the ‘L’ word. There were no guidelines requiring our poems be centered on a particular love type. I could’ve easily focused on the  love shown to me by doting parents or a caring and protective brother or the cousin who’s really like a sister or the girlfriends turned sisters or my M-F children or God of course.  But no. That would’ve been way too easy for me and because I thought I was up for a challenge, I committed myself to creating a poem centered around romantic love. Why would I consider that a slight challenge you ask? Well…if I’m being honest, my Romantic Love track history is some trash. (Pause). Well…maybe I’m being a little too harsh. I have met and experienced really fun, smart, goal oriented, caring, (accentuating the possitive) humorous, good hearted, thoughtful guys. And truth be told, I have more memories of happy times shared than jacked up times. (Insert long sigh)…but the jacked up times have left such a lasting impression.

So there I was (It’s like 2:15pm and the event was slated to begin at 3:00pm.), seated in my little girly nook with my girly pink pen in hand and my journal opened to a fresh page. I was ready! Let’s knock this poem out in 10 minutes, refresh make-up, get dressed, and be on the road by 2:50pm. (It sounded like a solid plan). But nothing was happening. I stared at the page. The page stared back at me. 10 minutes pass. Another 5 expire. (Shit! I’m gonna be late.) Hmmm. What can I say about that kind of love being that I might be a tad bit (just a tad)  jaded right now?  Experience (experiences) can jade you, jade your perspective, quell your optimism.  Nonetheless,  I refused to show up to a Love Fest with a jaded ass poem talking about,  “Ya’ll  lovely ladies wanna hear a poem? Well here it go”:

She So Jaded

All ya’ll *bleep lie

And make all the good girls cry

Start off all nice and kind

But it’s only a matter of time

All ya”ll *bleep cheat

Frontin like you so fuckin sweet

To save your life, you couldn’t tell the truth

and that’s exactly why…

IDFWY

Instead, I thought about qualities I loved and really appreciated in past people, what I’d like to see in my next person. I thought about Ric Hassani’s music (which is actually playing right now), how refreshing it is, how it makes me smile, and how it helps to restore my faith in the opposite sex. (I actually borrowed one of his titles and I hope he won’t mind. Lol.)

   Gentleman

You’re a gentle man. An honorable man, whose love is pure and true

You’re a loving man, a loyal man. One who always comes through

You’re an intelligent man, loaded with all things knowledge, at your feet I’m honored to learn

And because you’re genuinely trustworthy, my trust you’ve definitely earned

You’re a genuine man. Generous and loving too. You love God, your family, your communities too

You got so much confidence and swag. It’s just oozing all over you

Note: I couldn’t help but laugh when someone blurted out “Yaaaassss! Where he at tho?”

Said I was over the fellas. I’d had my fair share

Felt you all played too many games, broke too many hearts, and it just seemed so unfair

But you came through and showed me something different. You came through and you showed me the truth

Now I need my jersey back so I can get on loves court again. I’m inspired to put my fears aside and watch God love me through you

In other words, you got this girl coming out of retirement

And she’s doing it just for you…

                            Note: I know this poem is cute-corny  but I like it!  (Insert smiley face)

We all enjoyed sharing and listening to one another’s hearts by way of words.  Cupid’s Journal was absolutely perfect!  Food. Wine. Sisterhood. Love. Openness. Encouragement. Laughs. Music. And more. I can’t wait for Cupid’s Journal: Spring Edition.  Hmmm. I should probably start working on something now…

 

You can see more pictures and videos from Cupid’s Journal on my IG page. My handle is @girltalkwithrhondamarcelle. And as always, thank you so kindly for your time. I truly appreciate it.

Peace and love…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Confidence On Fleek

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It is believed that intuition is a woman’s greatest gift. Although I’ve  chosen to ignore it at the most opportune times I will not beg to differ. I will, however, like to add on. I think a woman’s next most powerful gift is self confidence. For me, confidence means always believing in yourself, always trusting in your dopeness.  It’s feeling good about yourself. It’s knowing that whatever happens, whoever goes, I’m always gonna bounce back. It’s trusting I’ll always be good. Most importantly, it’s agreeing with my creator that I’m special and  that I have something unique to offer this world.

I believe building or boosting confidence is an inside job for the most part. You have to put in the work, ensuring you’re not agreeing with and entertaining debilitating thoughts and notions of who you are.   YOU have to believe in your gift. Unfortunately, it seems our confidence, often times,  stems from who we’re physically connected to, who validates us, who gives us the green light to shine. And please don’t get me wrong. It’s an honor and a privilege to be connected to someone, to be and feel loved by someone. But if the sole reason, the only time you feel badass is due to a particular connection, you’ve placed yourself in a scary and tricky position where you’re now codependent on someone else to make you feel amazing about who you are as a woman.

I understand we all have unique backgrounds and may have experienced unfortunate circumstances, beyond our control, that speak to our levels of confidence. For today, I would like to focus on what’s currently within in our control and what we can do as adult women to help boost our confidence moving forward. And I believe that if we are intentional about getting this right, we can impact our lives and the lives of younger women and girls who are watching, studying us. We can help to give ourselves and our girls the gift of empowerment.

Get Connected To Your Source

Being connected to a source is the base, the foundation of confidence for me. I’m a believer and God happens to be my source. I actually believe all that mushy stuff–God loves me. He’ll never leave or forsake me. He spoke my name. He knows every hair on my head. I could go on and on but I think you get where I’m coming from. If my creator thinks I’m all magical and what not who am I to disagree?  This is not an attempt to convert anyone. I’m not certain who/what your source is. You’d have to determine that for yourself. All I’m simply saying is believing in something greater than myself, having a connection/relationship, believing I’m loved, cared for, kept, covered by my source has been instrumental in my life and in confidence building. It changes the inner dialogue. My connection and belief serve as ammunition. When the world tries to tell me “You’re not good enough” I don’t believe that shit. My rebuttal is swift and prepared…”But God thinks I’m dope so clearly the world don’t know what the fuck they talking about.”

Learn/Try Something New 

Valorie Burton, the author of Happy Women Live Better, asserts that trying /learning new things boost confidence. And guess what? She’s right! It can be something as simple as attending a flower grooming class. Yes, they have these classes and yes I attended one years ago. It was super cool learning how to arrange and groom flower bouquets. Something I’d never even considered or much cared about previously. Thankfully a friend invited me along. Occasionally,  I’ll  stop by the grocery story and pick up a bouquet of something or another. I still remember what I was taught so after a little time and effort I get the bouquet looking right, place it on the table in a pretty vase, stand back and admire  my work like…Yeah…I did that. That’s good work right there.  End result? Instant confidence boost (insert smile). I’m left feeling good about myself, feeling accomplished. And I didn’t need anyone to co-sign.

 

Unfortunately, I’ve gotta wrap this up for now. I’ve talked your head off enough  for one post but please stay tuned!  Next time I’ll talk more about trying new things, getting cute, and more. Wishing you all awesome days. Until next time…stay sweet.

Peace and love…

 

Be Your Own Kind Of Beautiful

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No one (or thing)  should have the authority to tell us what our beautiful should look like. But that doesn’t stop some from telling us, directly and indirectly, that our hair should be straighter and longer, assess fatter, frames thinner, breasts bigger, noses leaner, stomachs flatter, and more.  We take note of the women who are glorified for fitting such descriptions. Then we take to belittling our regular, natural ass bodies because of the attention and  praises given to, for lack of a better phrase, industry hot girls.  When we look in the mirror and complain about our flat assess, wide hips, A-Cups, thicker lips, jelly rolls, or whatever we find to complain about on our bodies,  we are disregarding our own unique kind of beauty and trying to force fit into someone elses’ ideal  (fake ideal in many regards) of beauty.  And the extent to which some of us are willing to force fit ourselves is alarming.  From causing permanent damage to our edges due to excessive, weave use, to undergoing extremely dangerous and unhealthy I Need A Fatter Ass procedures. The destroying of  our beautiful, just right for us, bodies is painful to witness.   And yes, as women, we need to be held accountable for the choices we make and how we regard and treat our temples. But knowing this doesn’t make me any less livid with the elements in our society that encourage this bullshit.

Moving forward, we have to do a better job of embracing who we are–our bodies, our beauty, our everything. We have to define what’s beautiful for us and how said beauty will be expressed. I so appreciate the women who have recently come forth and shared their stories about why they didn’t believe they were beautiful enough in their natural state, why at some point they deemed “enhancements” the solution, and how they came to the realization that real beauty has absolutely nothing to do with looking a particular way but in being a particular way. It has everything to do with appreciating your beauty in its unique form. Knowing and loving who we are, just as we are, is thee essential step to embracing, defining, and being our own kind of beautiful.

 

Rock Your Moment!

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We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.                        ~Maya Angelou

Congratulations! Thanks to your dedication and hard work you are more than well on your way. You’re a beautiful woman who has been through some stuff. You’ve taken some emotional licks and endured a series of unwanted heartaches. You were almost declared an emotional homicide, but you cried, fought, prayed, laughed, and willed your way back to life. You’ve taken the time needed to delicately and piece-by-piece put yourself back together. Your strength and your courage are quite admirable.

As a result of your strength and courage, you’re now 100% foolish-man free. You’re drama-free, stress-free, and consumed-days-of-sadness-free. You’re agony-free, trying –to-figure-out-what-in-the-world-happened free, believing-that-you’re-inadequate-free, pleading-and-begging-free, sleepless-nights-free, settling-for-less-free, confusion-free, doubt-free, and tear-free. “Free at last! Free at last! Thanking God ALMIGHTY to be free at last!”

You’re finally believing and buying into the notion that you are OK, that you’re going to continue being OK. The realization is accompanied by an upgraded confidence in yourself. You’re learning that you’re stronger than you ever thought you were. You’re setting new and elevated standards for how people will treat you. You’re refocusing and re-prioritizing. You’re back at the top of your priority list—where you should’ve always been. You’re prayed-up and determined to stay that way. You’re releasing feelings of anger and resentment in order to make space for even more peace and joy. Bag lady? Not you! You’ve unloaded all the emotional baggage you have accrued from past hurts, and you left those old bags at the curb. You’ve graciously tipped the baggage handler, told him to discard the unwanted and unneeded bags in the nearest Dumpster, and now you’re traveling on your merry, light way…ready to continue enjoying your journey.

You’re feeling good and taking much better care of yourself now—emotionally, physically, and spiritually. You’re smiling a little brighter, laughing a little louder, and looking a lot more fabulous (eliminated stress and sleepless nights from your life has an anti-aging effect). You’re no longer putting your happiness on hold while waiting for something to happen. You’re declaring that you’ll be happy right where you are planted.

Note: I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from my first book. Stay tuned for more. In the interim, feel free to click the link for an additional sneak peek.

Boy Bye! by Rhonda Hall

 

Why I’m Crushing on Angela Simmons and Demetria Lucas

I recently added  Demetria Lucas and Angela Simmons to my list of women I’m digging,  absolutely admiring right now. I appreciate them both for being so candid about their current relationship statuses. How many women have they empowered by simply being honest, telling the ugly, bitter, funky truth?! We’re (women) SO good at hiding these ugly truths. And we’re really good at staying in unhappy, unhealthy, unfulfilling  relationships far longer than we should. We’re also really good at not being honest with ourselves about our genuine desires. And lastly, we’re really, really good at making presentations. We’d rather  save face and image, present as if we’re  flourishing in rockstar relationships, instead of admitting…this shit is fucked up . We’ll convince the hell out of ourselves to stay in relationships where we’re miserable at worst, meh at best.

So when I encounter women who are genuine enough to admit the situation’s a fucked up AND then bold  enough to walk away from said fucked-up-ness, they elevate to a whole new level of badass in my opinion. Why? Because it’s hard AF to throw up those deuces after realizing you deserve better, to abandon familiar  (even if it is real fucked up, kinda fucked up, just a little fucked up) territory, uncertain of what new roads will bring. It’s scary and devastating. And it’s uncomfortable. And humiliating. And painful. And lonely.  And crushing. It requires a great deal of fortitude and fearlessness. It’s much, much easier to convince yourself that things aren’t so bad than to travel Walking Away’s  long, lonely, sad, devastating, scary, humiliating, uncomfortable ass road.

This is why I appreciate women who share their truth, who refuse to allow the opinions of society to dictate their next moves, who take status and image off the pedestal and give their joy and peace their rightful seat. And this is precisely why I want to  thank Angela for advising us not to remain where we aren’t valued, for encouraging us to put our happy back in the front seat, and for inspiring us to remain hopeful about the next chapter(s). I commend Demetria for not believing her validation was solely connected to being a man’s wife (that’s no small feat in our society), and for walking in the direction of being genuinely happy.

I would close out by wishing these two lovely ladies all the best on their new and courageous journeys but something tells me with faith in God, confidence, and tribes they both seem to possess, these lovely ladies will be just fine.

Closing thought: May we be inspired by fearless women.  May we be fearless women.

 

 

 

ULTIMATUMS

I was listening to a video clip of Derrick Jaxn on Facebook last night. He spoke briefly on men, marriage and ultimatums: indicated he was no huge fan of  the u-word. The word ultimatum sounds a little ugly I admit, but the associated synonyms sound very practical, logical really.

Synonyms For Ultimatums 

-uncompromising demand
-final offer
-take-it-or leave-it deal
-final notice
-final terms
-final warning
-final word
-last chance
-last offer
We issue ultimatums—last chances, final offers, final notices— all the time I believe.
Examples:
~ “Chrisette this is your last chance to decline 45’s invitation”, said The Black Community. If you decline, we’re good. If you accept and perform, we ain’t fuckin with you no more. (She thought ya’ll was just talking. She was clearly mistaken.)
~ If this restaurant issues me shitty service one more time, I’m never coming back again.
~ This mechanic is always on some bullshit. If my car’s not finished by noon I’m taking it someplace else, and I’m never coming back.
       An ultimatum is simply having an understanding of what you want, an expectation of how your desires should be met and delivered, and enough consideration to give involved parties the opportunity to meet your demands. So what’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with giving your beau an expiration date on his slow dragging? Nothing’s wrong with it. Nothing’s wrong with issuing an ultimatum in my opinion. But unlike with a mechanic or an establishment, something feels a little (a lot) fucked up about having (feeling required) to issue an ultimatum to a person who claims to love you but who’s also dragging their feet on you.
       I remember having a conversation with a friend who was in this predicament. She said, “I shouldn’t even be going through this.” And I understood her wholeheartedly. It feels like you’re twisting someone’s arm just to be with you. The fuck? Though some guys may need a little encouragement in the area of full fledge commitment, and they may need to understand that their lady’s not going to play this game long-term, it still feels like an insult (a slap in the face) for a woman to have to go to such extremes (ultimatum issuing). It’s a mood switcher. Like dude, I gotta twist your ear for a commitment? Fuck it. I don’t want it then. You keep it.
       We want guys to view being partnered with us a privilege, not an obligation (“Ok. I’ll marry you Gina. Damn!”). And once the territory of issuing ultimatums is entered the lines of being considered a privilege versus an obligation get blurred. In this regard, it is my hope that from this day forward, we choose men who choose us repeatedly (sans prompting, sans coercion), men who appreciate and feel privileged to have us. Men who don’t need ultimatums to keep us.

Miss Me With Those “Cuffingships”

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‘‘Tis the season” for hearty stews, homemade soups, and hot chocolate smothered with whipped cream. It’s the season for high boots and Friendsgiving, scarves and ugly Christmas sweaters, Netflix and ski trips. It’s also the season for single gals who are feeling a little lonely, somewhat anxious (wondering why their Boaz still hasn’t presented his azz), in slight despair, uninspired by a possible season of solo hibernation, to be extremely cautious. We have to be mindful Ladies, that Cuffing Season is upon us.

 Understand that this season was created by and for persons who’d rather spend the cold, dark, and sometimes dreadful months of winter snuggled up with someone “good enough” for cuffing than all alone. And I totally get it! You get the temporary perks and feels of a relationships from November through about late February, early March. By the end of March you get your papers signed, freeing you up for Springtime Frolicking and Summer Flinging. It sounds SO ideal! Almost makes me want to get signed up. There’s just one teeny tiny problem: being regarded and treated as a Good Enough Girl (good enough for cuffing season but soon after that ass is getting dropped) doesn’t sit well with my spirit, with who I am at my core. If it did, I’d surely participate in all  the season’s festivities. I’d even have a rotation like my girl Issa! But, in this regard, I know myself all too well. It’s all fun and games until your worth isn’t recognized and valued.
So in the interest of not busting anybody’s car windows out ( because in December I knew it was most likely just a cuffingship but by the end of January all the playing relationship had me feeling like I was in a relationship, and by  February I’m questioning why a nigga’s not gathering I’m quality–as in God’s wonderfully and beautifully made child, as in why am I–ME–on a fuckin cuffing bench when I should be running the point–and pissed the hell off  in mid March when he starts to pull back because…well duh…Spring Frolicking is upon us) I prefer to sit this season out.
If (when) I find myself tempted to cuff  (in my Tempted to Touch song voice),  I get brutally honest with myself. Next, I remind myself I have options.  Then, actually I’ll save that for the following post.  

 

Anti-Cuffing Season Checklist

Be Honest With Yourself

Ask yourself how will this situation most likely end? How long will it be all fun and games until emotions get involved and feelings get hurt? Has this person actually demonstrated he’s worthy and appreciative of me, my time, my offerings? Is he more charm than genuine? Am I just bored? Feeling lonely? Would I entertain him under ordinary circumstances? Am I trying to make this more than what it really is? Is my spirit really ok with being a seasonal F#%k Buddy/Fake Girlfriend (granted he may not come right out and refer to you as such but he’ll drop clues regarding his intentions)? If after being honest with yourself you conclude #issacuffingtrap, steer clear. Guard your heart and protect your spirit, your feelings, your peace, and your time.

Believe You Deserve More

In addition to protecting your spirit, have faith and believe in yourself. Believe that you can do way better, that you deserve more than someone who just wants you as their wintertime smash buddy. I don’t care if the situation is looking bleak. You always have options. And by options I don’t necessarily mean a plethora of men. You have the option to value what you have to offer. You have the option to regard your offerings as sacred treasures. You have the option to tell a mf  “get the fuck out my face with that cuffing-proposition-bullshit.” If you feel your options are slim or non-existent, start talking to yourself differently; start thinking differently about yourself.  Start telling yourself things like:

I’m dope AF (then go do the shit that makes you feel dope…AF)

I’m a treasure (And you don’t need anybody to co-sign on this for you. YOU just have to believe it and govern yourself accordingly.)

I deserve more (You’re damn right you do!)

I got time. I can wait for something with meaning and purpose. (The illusion of not having options and time always seem to trip us up).

When you talk differently to yourself, you start to feel and think differently about yourself.  “The tongue has the power of life and death”. We have to speak life over ourselves, our confidence, our boldness. And we have to lay the spirit of slumming  (settling for way less because you don’t  believe you can have more) to rest…for good.

 

To Be Continued…

 

Demetria Obilor

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Demetria Obilor isn’t the reflection of standard beauty–standard white beauty that is. She’s not rail thin, blonde haired, and blue-eyed, with porcelain colored skin.  Instead, she’s thick and curvy (AF), big and curly-haired, and brown-eyed, with flawless fawn colored skin. In other words, she’s FREAKIN GORGEOUS. The fact that Channel 8 has secured her as their traffic anchor indicates the news channel hasn’t “taken leave of its senses” at all. Channel 8 has gathered its senses in realizing the American (white American) standard of beauty, that fails to capture the beauty of SO many others, is some BS and deserving of dismantling.

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Facebook user Jan (Big Mad Jan) exclaims she will not be tuning into Channel 8 anymore because our girl (everyone who’s on #teamdemetria) is cute (gorgeous)  in the face, slim in the waist, and blessed in all the right places. Jan basically tried to body shame Demetria for being a thick and curvy woman. Jan’s behavior is sad, but not surprising. “When you look a little different, people think they can talk to you a little different.”, says Demetria in response to Jan’s body shaming.  I love how so many people have and are coming to Obilor’s defense. Her clap-back squad is real and ready. And it appears not only black folk are on her team.  I appreciate how so many are realizing and accepting that no particular group monopolizes in the area beauty.  And y’all already know I love how black women continue to walk confidently and boldly in their beauty.  We know, despite everything (historically being told and led to believe we were ugly, with our thick lips, wide noses, dark skin, wide hips, thick thighs, fat butts, and nappy hair)  that we’re our own special kind of beauty.

Lastly, Obilor has handled this body shaming (embedded race/culture shaming) with so much grace. This graceful and unapologetic beauty has gained a new admirer– me.

For Those Who Think Living Single Is A Total Suck-Fest

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The assumption is single living is lonely, miserable living. Society graces single ladies with pity, creating an atmosphere of panic and desperation. There’s always a family member in your ear about finding a man before it’s too late or an article with data suggesting all (like every single last one of them) of the quality men have left the building so whomever (whatever) you can get your hands on, make sure to hold on tight, and be thankful you got someone (something). Who cares if it’s “… just any fuckin body”? (Ummm…I care). 

If a SL isn’t careful, she’ll fall for the trap. She’ll let others convince her life really is a Suck Fest. She’ll put life on ice. She won’t even make an attempt to live a life that’s colorful,  lit, and full of purpose because she’s agreed with the Without A Man You Ain’t Much Of Nothing bullshit she’s been fed. 

The good news is regardless of what society says or feels, there’s an amazing number of SLs living life on their own terms. Woman who are traveling the world, creating dope shit, making moves, starting businesses and non profits. Slaying basically. They’re changing the narrative and having the time of their lives. I love these women. Admire these women. Would like to think of myself as one of these women. 

But if you happen to be a Single Lady Who Agrees With Society, let’s chat.

 SLWAWS: But single life is SO lonely.

MeHow? When there are people, life and opportunities to connect all around. If you’re feeling lonely and disconnected from people, look for ways to foster connection–with those in need, loved ones, friends, your professional circles, and more. You’re going to  have to stop telling yourself that the only way to treat your loneliness is through romantic connection. 

  1. Volunteering is a great way to serve, give back, and step away from the I’m So Lonely narrative. 
  2. Joining  or starting a fitness community where you meet up for weekly walks, jogs, weight lifting, or whatever is another awesome way to combat feelings of loneliness, link up with like-minded individuals, release endorphins, and advocate for your health. It’s a total win-win- win. (I’m a huge supporter of living our best fitness life (getting in at least 3 days or 150 minutes of sweat breaking activity per week) and “preserving the sexy”. It’s a mood booster, vibe elevator, confidence enhancer, and so much more.
  3. Additionally, make an effort to link up with your peeps and family regularly. Decide how often you want to reconnect and catch up on life with each other. Having something to look forward to creates anticipation and boosts your mood.

SLWAWS: But single life is boring.

Me: How? Why? There’s always something happening. Always some goings on. African dance classes, grape stomping events, comedy shows, festivals, museum openings/events, theater, fitness engagements, dining, hiking, galas, cooking classes, marathons, and more. Find the things you like or enjoy and get like Nike. You may have to step out of your comfort zone to enjoy and partake, but life is buzzing all around you. And if you’re waiting for a committee to join you, stop. Who says you can’t venture, explore, and discover alone? I’m not saying you have to leave the country solo (if you’re uncomfortable doing so), but you can go to a concert solo, for instance, and have the time of your life. And trust me, no one will be staring at you with pity thinking “Awww, she’s all by herself”. And if they are, you should be so buzzed from pre-gaming and so high off the music and energy to even notice. For if single living is boring for you one can only assume I Got A Boo Now living will be boring for you too. No one’s coming to save you from living a boring ass life. You’re gonna have to save yourself Girlie.

SLWAWS: Most of my friends are married. And they’re moms. They don’t have time to do hoodrat stuff with me.

Me: Find new friends or acquaintances to kick it and laugh with from time to time. They may not elevate to Day Ones status but you can still have an amazing time with them. Instead of sitting in the house bored, lonely, and envying a friend’s life, you could be out in these streets creating your own life. Facebook has 50,000 social groups all happening at the same damn time. Jump in one. Meet up activities and events are everywhere! So much so it can get a little overwhelming. Meet people who have similar interests (book clubs, foodies, travel clubs, music heads, movie buffs, and more) as you. And go for it! We have to be proactive about changing the narrative. Because if you don’t change your narrative, I don’t believe you’re gonna be able to change your life. Our thoughts create our reality and if all you meditate on is how lonely, miserable, and empty your life is, then life has no choice but to serve you exactly what you’re constantly focused on. 

SLWAWS: But I have no one to go on romantic dinner or movie dates with. 

ME: Take yourself out from time to time. And not on some ‘I’m on a date with Jesus’ foolishness either. (Jesus is my brother.  Or is he my father? Or both? I dont know. It gets a little confusing for me at times. But I definitely don’t view Him as my man. Sorry if this offends anyone. It’s just my opinion). All I’m saying is, if you’re staying in on Saturdays because you have no one to hang out with romantically, be your own hero.  Learn to enjoy your own company. Stop being afraid to do shit because you don’t have a committee or a man by your side. You make more than enough money. Get cute.  Go to that restaurant or theater or wherever. Eat the popcorn. Drink the cocktail. And be merry. 

SLWAWS: There’s nobody to rub my booty.

Me: Girl…goodbye. Every single woman on the planet can get her booty rubbed if she really, really, really wanted her booty rubbed, and that’s on any day of the week. Two words: contact list (old flings, past cutty buddies, new admirers). And I’m not trying to be crass or offensive. I’m just being honest. If I’m wrong you can send me the bill. Now granted, these may not be men you want to go the distance with BUT…if all you want in the moment is…well…you know (don’t make me say it), take what’s worth taking and throw the rest back so to speak. Note: these arrangements can get very tricky for some of us. I’m not 100% a fan as a result. My only point is that there are  always options and eager men available IF that’s all you want and you think you can handle what comes along with strictly physical relationships. In the past (as in a long, long, long, long time ago) I found myself irritated, borderline upset, in these “situationships”. After a brief period of time (fun) I’m like, Dude, all you wanna do is f#*k me? Seriously? That’s it! I have SO much more to offer and all you wanna do is smash?. Man …get the bleep outta here.  And the guy’s all confused, wondering why is she trippin all of a sudden. But everybody’s not all emotional like me. For some, this may be a great, conveinient, and temporary fix. All I can say is walk in your truth and do what’s best for your soul. 

SLWAWS: But I don’t want to have pointless sex or catch anymore bodies. 

Me: Good. Me either. (I dont’t think). And I wish you would’ve said that earlier. We could’ve bypassed the enter booty rub discussion.  Talking about peoples’ sex lives makes me uncomfortable. It’s just so…personal. But anyways, let me add this, self love ( wink ,wink) is an awesome option. It’s safe, carefree, drama less, and emotions are not needed. And you can still get those endorphins released.

I could on, but I feel like this blog entry is already super long. So I’ll just conclude by saying again, SLs we have to be proactive about changing the narrative. Be mindful about the things you agree with and the thoughts you entertain. You’re life isn’t boring or meaningless because you ain’t got no man (in this season). You’re life is a gift. And you don’t have to wait until Christmas or your birthday or until your coupled up to open and enjoy it. Start enjoying and living your most bedazzled (single) life today. 

That Damn Dinner

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It’s hard to believe the season finale of Insecure is upon us. We all have so many questions and wonderings that will require more than one 30 minute episode to satisfy our curiosities. Sunday night was tough to watch. For some reason, I feel so connected with this cast, and I’m confident I’m not the only one. There were so many moments where all I could say was “Damn” (long and drawn out). Daniel and Issa’s phone conversation for instance. From Sunday to Sunday I was giving my man (he became “my man” when I saw how right he had that body looking. Makes me want to reconsider another ab challenge for myself. Hmmm…I just reconsidered it. And…no thanks. Daniel got us. ) the benefit of the doubt. I assumed he didn’t intentionally splash , or should I say spray Issa in the face with…y’all saw the episode. But then he’s all like “…well we’re even now.” I’m like dude! She’s was about to forgive you. Let it ride. And here you go saying something stupid and totally unnecessary. Damn…

Issa and Lawrence. Damn. Damn. Damn (in my Florida Evan’s voice). First of all, Issa had no business pressing Lawrence about bringing a date. FOH. But he went in on her. And she went in on him! And I hated every second of watching their hurt and pain revealed in clapbacks and one ups. As she wrecks her apartment, for the first time, I felt sympathy for her. Like if she could rewind the hands of time, she’d make a different choice. One that may not have involved staying in an unfulfilling relationship but did involve respecting your partner, relationship, and friendship enough not to totally destroy and wreck it beyond repair. Unfortunately… we don’t always get the luxury of rewinding time to make a better choice. And with some people/friendships/relationships, once you lose them, you lose them for good.   Although Issa took an L and tomorrow she may bounce back, Party Time wasted no time on Operation Bounce Back with his new, swaggy friend. Courtesy of him, we may have a chorus coming soon: At 10pm I took an L but at 11pm I bounced back. Damn the both of yous…

Note: You both get on my nerves right now.

And then there’s Molly. Poor Molly. I mean, what the fuck was she thinking getting involved with Dro, especially when we all advised her, through our TV screens, and the “innanet” DON’T DO IT. She looked so pitiful sitting at that dinner table. As if things couldn’t getting any worse than totally being ignored, made to feel invisible by someone you’ve been intimate with  *(man…my jealous, sometimes mildly possessive ass would’ve turned that whole dinner party out. I once got irritated with a guy for telling me another woman “always keeps her hair looking good.” Excuse you!  Say what now? In my mind,  that was a detailed observation that required detailed observation,  it was the perfect opportunity NOT to pay attention, a concern that should not have concerned him. The only (and yes I meant only)  hairstyle he needed to be observing and concerned with  and paying attention to…was mine. Granted, that was YEARS ago  (I’ve grown a bit since) but I’m certain a little bit of that is still in me. Hence, why I steer clear of those types of sharing situations. I know me #knowthyself.  I can’t handle it.)  they get it in in the restaurant bathroom only for him to prove once again she’s not, nor will she ever be, priority. The entire situation made her feel cheap. Disposable. Unworthy (not worth it). Like an option.  Humiliated. I really wished she would’ve given Lionel (with his not so boring to me boring ass a chance) . That way I would not have had to feel the character’s pain, disgust with self, confusion, anger, and hurt ultimately being reminders of times I myself owned those feelings (not for ratings but for real for real).  I understand, but still loathe situations where we (women) take (accept, allow, make ourselves ok with)  less just to say we have some…thing. Those situations that leave us holding the short end of the stick.  Damn those situations.  I need Molly to make us all proud  (Sisters Unite) tomorrow by getting out and staying out.

Alright. Brining this long ass post to a close. Until next time…

*long ass parenthesis break. Sorry.