Twenty-Something Renaissance

Vision, Clarity and Action

2011-12-22T12:16:00.000-08:00

I pressed play on the clip of Dr. Ro's appearance on Anderson and did a double-take. "Oh goodness," I mumbled to myself, "that's the woman from my vision board." I looked at the board, one of the many ornaments on adding color and life to my cubicle, and paused a bit. "This has been a damn good year."

I was getting ready to interview Rovenia Brock for the January 2012 issue of Essence. But in that moment I had to stop and look and look at how it had all come together. At the top of 2011, I was visiting New York. I sat in Michele's Harlem digs sipping gingerbread lattes, watching The Game, and snipping away at magazine clips. It was time for a new vision board and I was going hard as a mutha. New York, world traveler, magazines, great expectations, and believe were a few of the words that made the final cut. Pictures representing great friendships, time with family, dates, love, and good health also appeared on the board. And the phrases that would be my go-tos for the entire year: "You've Got The Power" and "The most successful women don't run from change, they run toward it."

I had no clue how some of the things on my board would manifest. I didn't put Dr. Ro on my board because I was planning on meeting her. I put her on my board because I wanted to get more involved covering health and also more active with my own health. I ended up interviewing her while working as a health editor at a magazine in New York.

I told Dr. Ro about my board and I remember her saying, "That is how the universe works, but you have to be open to it."

A few weeks later, I looked at my board again and realized that I still hadn't used my passport. There were some things that just kinda happened, but there were also points were I needed to stop visualizing and just do. I hadn't saved to do it big overseas, but I figured a trip to Canada at least put it to use and I could plan a bit better next year.

This all brings me to my new vision board. While I feel like everything on my 2011 board has manifested in some way, I think of my 2012 of as complimentary. It's more like a companion board that clarifies the original vision. I was bit more open, honest, and clear with my wants, needs, and goals. I've also been writing a bit about what each image and word means to me and what steps I'm willing to take to make it happen.

One can only think that if I accomplished so much the first time around, being clear and action-oriented will mean great things in 2012.

Talks and Ultimatums

2011-12-17T19:39:00.000-08:00

A number of my friends have had "the talk" recently. In every case it was the woman who brought of the conversation. "What are we" and "where is this going" are supposed to be clarity questions, but a lot of times they just feel like ultimatums.

Just after seeing the headline "What do when she wants a commitment," I had a conversation with My Boy about "the talk." I went on a rant about power dynamics, being the first person to put anything out there, and getting played. Every reason I gave for never in my life initiating "the talk" was about ego. I knew there was something more to why I felt so strongly about not initiating, but I didn't have the words. I wasn't really concerned with gender roles and the idea that a man should initiate commitment if he really wants to be with you. I wasn't tripping off the advice that I receive often: Be with a man who loves you more than you love him. But something other than my ego, which surely plays a part, leads me to believe that I'll never initiate a conversation that leads to an ultimatum.

I figured that writing would help me discover that "something." This is what I came up with:

There are some things I can’t bring myself to do

I won’t give you an ultimatum

I’d rather leave

I know too many men who “gave in”

I don’t want to be the girl who finally got you

Who plotted and planned and finally convinced you

I’d hate for you to watch me sleep

And wonder if I’ll ever take the hint

Don’t feel obligated to make this something it isn’t

Please do not settle for me

I wouldn’t do it for you

Protect your happy

My being “a good woman”

Isn’t reason enough to make it work

I’m grown

I can handle moments of heartbreak

I prefer them over false lives

And aching spirits

You should be here

Because you genuinely want to be

Because you’re inspired

Because you’re moved

We’re too old to go with people

Life is too precious to invest in seat fillers

Be here because you want to be here

Not because I convinced you this is where you ought to be

Questions for Clarity

2011-12-14T04:57:00.000-08:00

My two favorite questions right now are: "What do you really want?" and "Why?"

Last night I spent a few hours with junior level magazine editors and writers all eager to get inside tips from InStyle's Ariel Foxman. For a moment it felt like everyone there was trying to figure out the fastest way to be Editor-in-Chief. Everyone except for me.

It seems that if you are working as a magazine editor and you are driven, your goal should be to hold the highest position at a magazine. Would it be fly? Yes. But, the more I learn about myself and my industry, the more EIC sounds like something that doesn't quite mesh with my personality.

I wondered how many people in the room were gunning for that position because that's all they knew to shoot for. I wondered how many people had realized the magazine life wasn't quite what they wanted, or that they wanted it in a different capacity, but were afraid to step back and reevaluate.

I spent a good amount of time chatting with an editor who'd made the switch from fashion to books. She was so much happier than the last time I saw her. When we met she was trying her best to be immersed in all things fashion because that's what fashion girls did. She was prepared to give her everything to the pursuit of being the next Anna Wintour, only she didn't really want to be the next AW. She just thought she should be. I was happy to see her in flats and smiling.

Every time I run into a twenty-something who talks about how work has taken over their life, I always wonder about their motivation. I wonder if they're happy. I wonder if they've actually taken the time to ask "What do I really want?" and Why?"

Tomorrow night is my first meeting with a great group of creatives as part of the DIYTogether Incubator group. I'm charged with introducing myself, giving a rundown of my goals for 2012, and setting monthly goals. The crew will help keep me on track. We'll share ideas, skills, and connections. As prep for the meeting I've been reflecting on the following quote our group leader shared:

“Without goals, and plans to reach them, you are like a ship that has set sail with no destination.” —Fitzhugh Dodson, author

As I map out my 2012 goals and plans, I'm asking my two favorite questions.

Clarity is key.

Building Friendship Without the Friend Zone

2011-11-27T18:52:00.001-08:00

"You have a lot of really good guy friends. Ever think you'll just end up with one of them," my girl asked.

"Nope," I replied.

It's a question I get often. Lately, I've been thinking about why I'm able to have great relationships with guys that I'm not attracted to/interested in, but have so much trouble building with the ones I really like. The more "really"s, the harder it is to build.

Turns out I build with friends without fear. I'm completely open. They know the real me. I'm not concerned with how things will be interpreted, there are no "relationship rules" that I'm supposed to memorize even though they will be rewritten. No matter how many homies do me shady or fade into the distance, I never take that into the next friendship. I'm not analyzing every action or non action to determined if I'm being played. I give and nurture without worry that I'm doing too much.

My friendships flow. There's no tension. There's no anxiety.

I present all of me and if our friendship thrives in that authentic space, awesome. If it doesn't, oh well, no hard feelings.

If only the same were true for my dating life. I either don't care or over think. Ultimately deading the flow.

The most frustrating thing about the difference between how I interact with friends and how I interact with lovers, is that I know I'll never be able to commit to anything serious unless my lover is my friend.

Right now I'm trying to navigate building a true friendship with someone I'm interested in without pushing everything into the friend zone. My first thought is that it's going to take a lot more communicating than I'm used to. That makes me uneasy. But I'm not sure there are any other options.

On The Verge

2011-11-18T13:54:00.001-08:00

"It can get hard sometimes, but I like it. The City keeps you hungry."

We were on the D headed up top after watching a hometown girl win over a New York crowd. We'd spent the last few hours listening to music talking to people who didn't know anything but dream-chasing. It was my first time meeting Chris, but his statement made me feel like we'd had this convo before and we would have it again. We were two Oakland kids who'd taken to calling New York home. The Town taught us hustle, but The Big City made us apply it.

If you plateau in this city, you will perish.

I think that's why my sleep has been off.

A crazy combination of stress, restlessness, and inspiration keeps me up at night. It's more inspiration than anything. And the restlessness is usually because someone or something has inspired me so much that I'm thinking, "What eff am I doing with myself?" When I do fall asleep, I get ideas and I have to wake up to write them down. My collection of random sticky notes with 3 to 4 words that will some day be a complete sentence has increased. At least once a day I quote Kanye's "I Wonder":

Find your dreams come true

And I wonder if you know

What it means, what it means

And I wonder if you know

What it means, what it means

And I wonder if you know

What it means to find your dreams

I've been waiting on this my whole life

These dreams be waking me up at night

or Goapele's "Closer":

Closer to my dreams

Getting over, I’m gettin’ higher

Closer to my dreams

I’m getting higher and higher

Feel it in my sleep

Some times it feels like I’ll never go pass again

Some times it feels like I’m stuck forever and ever

When I’m going higher

Closer to my dreams

I’m goin’ higher and higher

I ain’t gonna sleep

I've gathered that there is something about being on the verge that makes sleeping difficult. When you've accomplished so much that you get hungry because you're finally closer to what you really want...

Talking to Chris I realized that my hunger is increasing by the minute. It's that intense almost there type of hunger. Like when you know you want something to eat and then you smell it and go from hungry to starving.

Yeah that.

I'm feeling like I'm on the verge of something. On the verge of something big. Maybe my "Blue Sky."

Between Carrying Baggage and Learning Lessons

2011-11-13T12:46:00.001-08:00

I was going through old emails and listening to Drizzy's latest offering.

You know where this is going, right?

Suddenly the tea in my cup was not enough to keep me calm. The emotions were overwhelming and I could feel the tears. I questioned if I could really keep doing this to myself. Maybe it would be better to scrap the project.

Several times a week I sit in my living room with a mug of herbal tea (or something a bit darker and much stronger) reading old blogs and poems. Sometimes it's easy. A folder for the poems and blogs that will make it into the book. A folder for the pieces that read more like the high school me. A folder for the writing that I don't even want to claim, but can't bring myself to delete.

But when it's time to edit, and I have to go back to the place that inspired the work, something happens and I get extremely close to becoming undone. Being able to read and analyze the details of your past relationships is a cliched gift and curse. Some days I feel extremely played. Others, I want another chance to fix us. The worst moments are the ones where I get so sad or pissed off about something that I start to connect old flings and current situations in a ways that are far from healthy.

Going through my old writings, I've been able to see my dating patterns and habits and for the most part I've learned a lot. I love witnessing my growth. I've grown so much since days where every poem was about Peanut and since my first blog post. Hell, I've grown since January when I found out that my – whatever he was – was starting a family elsewhere. But part of seeing that growth causes me to relive the pain and fear sneaks in. I don't regret what happened. But I don't need that ish with the next. And at some point I'm coaching myself to take the lessons and leave the baggage.

But is it possible to learn without carrying? I'm not sure that I can fully separate the two.

For now I limit my time with certain portions of the book. I avoid making certain calls or sending texts after I've spent hours living in the past. I hit up one of the homies to bring me back to my happy and healthy present. I've realized that in order not to become completely undone, in order not to completely spazz out, and in order not to rebuild all of the walls I've been actively destroying, I can't let my book consume me.

That bothers me.

I'd like to complete this project in a timely manner.

I'd like to be able to live in all of my feelings, that's where my best writing comes from.

I'm working on a solution.

I'm open to suggestions.

Santiago, The New Guy

2011-10-19T18:25:00.000-07:00

When we met I knew that if I ever blogged about him, I'd call him Santiago.

A man off chasing his Personal Legend.

A man who would provide inspiration.

A man who'd remind me to be the me I always dreamed of.

It's been months but still no blogs. Poems? Yes. More poems than I post. But stories? No. I like to keep them to myself.

I'm not sure why I have this sudden case of writer's block. Part of me believes that I just don't have the words. Part of me knows that writing it will mean admitting things that I'd rather not confess. And another part of me doesn't want to explain that I have been moved, that I am changing, and that I'm battling myself.

A few weeks ago I went home. I saw and built with just about every man who had a key role in who I am today and who I hope to become. Many of those men are the guys I blamed for my baggage, even though I chose to carry it.

During that trip I decided to leave my luggage. I decided to replace the memories that haunted me. The New Parish was no longer the place where I saw the man I'd fallen for with the woman he loved and with whom he was starting a family. It was the place I danced with one of my old homeboys and talked about our new lives over drinks. Instead of the guy who never showed when he promised to come over, my Dad was now the dude who picked me up and took me to dinner for family time. I replaced the visions of my homies when they ran game on every chick, with images of them as loving partners and those in search of the one.

As I created new memories, I wondered if I would be able interact with Santiago based on my new reality. All the walls I'd built were because of situations I was no longer willing to claim. Accepting a new reality would have to mean accepting a new me. I was certain of that.

What I didn't realize was that I'd have to choose the new reality over and over. I didn't realize that the baggage would suddenly reappear and I'd have to keep deciding to put it down. Being open takes work. Lots of it. Some days it takes more work than I'm willing to put in.

Some days it's easier to carry the baggage. Not because it feels better, but because there's comfort in the familiar. And because battling yourself takes a lot.

Today, I decided that part of battling the old me, part of that struggle for growth would be acknowledging Santiago. Not only giving him a name, but confessing – without the code of poetry or worry that he'll see this – that I am moved.

At some point I'll go into the details. Hopefully, I'll be able to accept the like without feeling the need to defend, without feeling the need to prove that I'm not the girl who does too much, and without worrying about what my feelings will mean for the future.

My goal is to fully enjoy and take advantage of the now and all it has to offer.

I think I'm getting there.

Baby steps.

Harlem Knight

2011-10-09T17:38:00.000-07:00

I found him on a dance floor
Scuffed hardwood
Somewhere in Harlem
A room of Twenty-Somethings
Trying to create their own renaissance
Dark lighting
Loud music
Liquor-coated ambiance

I was feeling some kind of way
And hoping it was more Kismet
Than tipsiness

The way he played with words
I yearned to taste them
Or at least the tongue they rolled off of

This could be dangerous

I’m sure it’s magical
That I conjured him up
“Who are you?” I ask
Regularly
He never answers
Just chuckles
Surely he is momentary
I recognize his lack of moss
Must make the most of the time he doesn’t believe in
Let days bleed together
So I can pack them with memories

He inspires me to write

Uses winks loosely
And flirts with each breath
Befriends entire rooms
I imagine that he is the future me
Unafraid
And that he’s learned the art of loving long enough
To make days feel like eternity
And the skill of leaving before he can create a sour after taste

Just as this one is ending
He popped up to teach me about seasons
A willing student
I’m all about this moment

Days Later

2011-09-25T07:53:00.000-07:00

It's Sunday. Most of the folks who flooded my timelines about Troy Davis have since stopped. I don't mind it, but I do wonder if there is anything different about their lives now that they've witnessed injustice, spoke out about it, and experienced the feelings of fear and sorrow that came with watching what unfolded.

There were so many things I wanted to say that day. All I managed to add to the twitter streams was "Don't let the fire die." A friend posted a video he created last September titled "Why Are We Not Still Angry," and I was reminded that the fire would indeed die. As images including photos of Aiyana Jones, Mumia Abu-Jamal, Oscar Grant, and Assata Shakur scrolled across my screen, I wondered if those names doomed to only be uttered by the masses in times like these. In the moments of anger, rage, hurt, protest that temporarily awaken people to what happens everyday.

Still, I couldn't figure out exactly what I wanted to say or write. My goal was not to discourage people or make them feel bad about previous inaction. My goal was not to put myself or others on pedestals. I simply wanted to say, "It is great that you are doing this now, but what next" without coming off as an asshole. I've been called that before when I questioned protests and internet campaigns against injustice. In addition to asking about next steps, I wanted to ask: "Why is this the only time we are angry?"

Last year I watched people in my hometown protest during the Mehserle trial. I was torn between being moved that they were moved to action and being pissed that there had been no real uproar about the hundreds of black men who were murdered each year in the same town.

"I'm upset at the fact that people get on soapboxes about 'the value of a black man's life' when a white cop is behind the gun, but say nothing at all when a black man pulls the trigger on another black man."

I said it and folks were pissed. Maybe my timing was off. But many of the thoughts I had about the response surrounding Oscar Grant came back as I read about Troy Davis. I kept wondering "And What Now?" While folks were questioning the value of Black life in white Ameri(insert how ever many ks you'd like)a, I wondered "what is the value of Black life in Black America?"

If we are only hurt, enraged, and moved to protest when it is an issue of white vs. Black, can we really say we value Black life?

If we do not place high value on our lives, are we surprised when others do not?

If it is true that you teach people how to treat you, how are we training folks outside of our community to treat us?

And these are not excuses or justifications, just things to think about.

Switching Types

2011-09-05T00:01:00.000-07:00

Confession: I have a fear of creatives.

I mean a love artists. But I make a concerted effort not to fall for them. Crush? Yes. Build with? No. The idea of two folks who live in the sky creating a solid foundation just...yeah. I've made it my business to go for the structured types. Ones that respect art but don't create it. It's my attempt at balance, stability and I suppose normalcy.

I also recognize that despite my airy ways, I'm very much an eldest child. I have a if "I don't do it, it won't get done" attitude, I try my best to make everyone happy, and I'm a bit of an overachiever. What if being with an artist makes my take-care-of-the-house-while-mom-is-at-work control-freak self kick in and kills my creative side? What if I lose my go-with-the-flow-ness because my boo is in the clouds (where i should be) and at least one person should be on earth?

Well now I'm rethinking my thought process.

What if falling for an artistic type means I actually get work done because I'm inspired by my lover's work? What if instead of acting as distractions, we push each other to be the best in our realms? What if it means that I won't have to explain why I don't want to be disturbed when I'm in my zone? Or that I'll never have to have that "maybe you should look for something more stable" talk. What if my partner's passion for creating knocks down every writers block? What if it means finding someone who not only respects, but understands, gets, and feels where I am coming from?

What if getting over my fear of falling for artists means finally finding someone who really moves me?

Fourth Quarter: The Vision Revisited

2011-09-02T10:59:00.000-07:00

When the ball dropped in Times Square marking the beginning of 2011, I was a few blocks away dancing to Yeezy with a bunch of Howard grads. The DJ spent the 30 minutes leading up to midnight playing all West Coast everything. The clock struck 12, we spazzed to "All of the Lights." Then came the Jay set starting with "Empire State of Mind." I was excited. Could I pretend that this set list was a sign? Could I call it foreshadowing? Of all the times my mother told me "Wherever you spend your New Year is where you'll be for the rest of the year," would this be the time she was right?

Maybe the DJs mood and family superstitions weren't a good indicator of things to come. So I put it on my vision board and made a promise to myself.

Nine months later I woke up to tweets from folks wondering where the year had gone. "It's September. Is 2011 your year yet?" I laughed and tried to figure out why the looming end of summer suddenly had folks questioning their year. Shouldn't all of the "what happened to your New Years resolutions" chatter start in December?

And then it hit me. Fourth Quarter. Damn.

I reached for my phone and pulled up a picture of my vision board.

Is it my year yet?

I made it back to New York. I made it back to the magazine world. I completed my second fitness bootcamp ...

I was feeling quite nice as I went through my check list. Then I went back to one of my first posts of the year:

When I made my board I was in a zone. It wasn't about what made sense, what was "feasible", or what people would think. It was about what I wanted and how I felt. Yet, I found a way to shut myself down...

...If I could live in the same manner that I created my vision board, grabbing pieces that moved me, not limiting myself, and not getting in my own way, things would be great.

Has 2011 been a good year? Yes.
Have I accomplished a lot of my goals? Yes
Have I been living "in the same manner that I created my vision board?" Not quite.

Good thing I've got the fourth quarter.

What I'd Tell Mini Me

2011-08-29T17:58:00.000-07:00

So 'til she's here

And she's declared

The heir

I will prepare

A blueprint for you to print

A map for you to get back

A guide for your eyes

And so you won't lose scent

I'll make a stink for you to think

I ink these verses full of prose

So you won't get conned out of two cent

My last will and testament I leave my heir

– Jay -Z, "Beach Chair"

"What five things would you tell your daughter about men?"

The question was directed at one of the guys in the car. I listened while they basically said "no letters, no numbers." Word to Belle. There were also comments about pics and videos and how they are never really being for his eyes only. Eventually they got around to sharing how a man should treat a woman and what they would do if their future daughters dated guys like them. I tuned in and out. My eyes were on the road and I was singing something ratchet, but I still heard a few gems.

"Ladies, what would you tell your daughters about men and sex?"

I didn't want to engage. We were driving from Brooklyn to Harlem trying to take shelter from Hurricane Irene. I needed to focus on the road and convos like these always had my mind going. It would take way more focus to join the convo than it was taking for me to rap along with Waka and them. "Umm, I don't know. I guess it depends on where she is," I offered noting that men are different in different regions. My response was rejected.

A list of things went through my head but I couldn't manage to rattle off a bullet list. Every time I was close to saying something, I realized that I didn't really want to pass that info to my kid. Yeah, it might protect her for a while, but it'd likely damage her in the long run. I wouldn't want my daughter spending years trying to undo the "wisdom" I instilled in her.

"I'm not trying to hand down my baggage. I'd hate for my daughter to be this guarded."

Too heavy of a response?

See, I've received a lot of advice and I'm pretty sure that folks shared their knowledge with good intentions. But now that I'm older, I feel like they gave me their burdens to carry. Burdens that are hard to unload.

The question was on my brain the next day and the next. I still don't have a list. I still don't really know, but I think I would teach my daughter the following:

That she must start with love and knowledge of self.

I'd teach her early on that while being vulnerable might get you hurt, it's the only way you can ever have true love.

I'd tell her that love is an action. And that being in or having love does not make you weak.

I'd tell her that trusting does not make her stupid and that having faith does not make her naive.

Instead of way to avoid being hurt, I'd teach my daughter how to process and embrace it. I'd urge her to look for the lesson in everything.

That some things are not about her. And while she should respect her partner's process, she shouldn't compromise her own. Que sera sera will be learned early on.

I'd teach her the value of intimacy. And along with my mother's wisdom "don't confuse good sex and love," I'd also tell her that being detached and "f**king like a man" is not the same as being empowered and sexually free.

I wouldn't hype her up on the idea of Prince Charming. But I wouldn't pump her with fear talking about the scarcity of good men.

I'd teach her to value character over resumes and the importance of patience.

And I'd tell her that everyone's views are colored by their experiences, mine included, and that she should filter accordingly.

Archived, For Better or Worse

2011-08-23T20:39:00.000-07:00

Started a little blog just to get some traffic/old folks'll tell you not to play in traffic

–Kanye West, "Made in America"

"I have a no representative policy," he proclaimed over a hibiscus concoction. We were somewhere in Columbus Circle doing that whole get to know you thing. I knew exactly what he meant. The dating game is strange. In our search to find someone who will love us unconditionally, we pretend to be someone else.

But how much hiding and pretending could I do if my ideas, insecurities, and history were already archived and easily accessible? One click on my site, Facebook, or Twitter, and he could find out a number of things. Oh and don't let a certain gentlemen stumble upon this little blog. He'd be able to witness three years of me growing in and out of myself in a matter of minutes.

I was sure that dude sitting across the table had already seen more online than I would have divulged on a second, third, or even fourth date. He'd been part of my timeline for a second.

"Damn. Maybe I really should have deleted my blog," I thought while taking another sip of the tea cooler.

At the top of the year I was reconsidering a lot and thinking about what I loved and what I wanted to change. I spent a good amount of time pondering how my virtual life impacted my reality. I was thinking branding, career moves and oversaturation. But then I started thinking about dating. I mean who really wants to date a chick that blogs about her relationships? And what if I blogged something at 23 that I no longer thought at 25, but never followed up? He could think I still thought some bogus ish. And what if he read one of those in the moment spazz posts? And so the train of thought went.

But every time I had this internal battle about how accessible my writings are and how vulnerable I am when I write, and what it meant for my love life, the same lyric came to mind:

If my past is any sign of your future, you should be warned before I let you inside.

– John Mayer, "I Don't Trust Myself"

Dirty Laundry

2011-08-22T13:11:00.000-07:00

Demetria L. Lucas' Real Talk: Should We Air Our Dirty Laundry? had my mind running suicide drills.

I wasn't so concerned with the race issue. I was thinking about what happens when black girls who grew up with drug dealers and learned at an early age to drop when they heard gunshots become the young women their families sacrificed so much to mold. What things do we gloss over during mimosas with black girls who were raised to be socialites?

I exist in multiple worlds and I'm careful not to speak too much about one in the other. At home I don't say certain names because I'd hate to feel like I dropped them. I don't give too many details on too much of anything. I just tell folks things are going well. And when I'm away, I rock Oakland pari and shy away from discussions about local headlines that have become national. Like black folks in a room full of whites, I try to only talk about the good. I say we are amazing. I say we are trend setters. I say we are revolutionary. I defend us to no end. I do not say we are also effed up.

When I posted Murder to Excellence, I felt some kind of way. Yes, the piece was about my wanting to make more of an impact, but in the end I felt like I was exposing some ish I shouldn't have to people who didn't really need to know about it. I was fine with my Oakland folks reading it. It was for them. But I hated that this truth would also be accessible to "others."

This weekend another baby was shot and my really good friend was robbed at gunpoint. My brain went into overdrive. I wanted to write about all of the emotions that came along with the news, but felt bad that I'd be giving blog space to the negative ish in my hometown again. I felt like I was betraying us yet again. I reasoned should write about the Art and Soul Festival instead. Maybe a fly restaurant I couldn't wait to get back to or how I missed running the lake. Anything but what was plaguing me at the moment.

Growing up friends and family always had advice on what to do in "mixed company." You learned what women should and shouldn't say around men. And you got the "act like you have home training" lecture when some well-off person took the little inner city kid out of their element.

But we were never taught how to be completely truthful, unashamed and unapologetic.

The Missing Title

2011-08-19T08:59:00.001-07:00

#Thatawkwardmomentwhen You tell him you haven't had a serious relationship in your adult life...

It wasn't so much of an issue in undergrad. High school was "just yesterday," and most of us were still seeing the high school boo during winter, spring, and summer breaks. Post-college, that convo is a bit different.

I'm not sure there is a look, more like an absence of one. There are tons of thoughts and he's trying to make sure they don't come out on his face. In most cases I take a sip. Wish I could turn water to whiskey. And wait for his response. Sometimes they stumble over their attempt repeat the statement. Other times they sip, and sip, waiting for me to jump to another questions. At times they ask how my non-relationship status has impacted my number. No, I didn't make that up. And yes I have been asked that over dinner. On a first date.

I used to feel some kind of way about that moment.

Judged.

Like now I would be placed in his mental file for jumpoffs. Or he would decide that I was so inexperienced with relationships that it...the making of an us...would just take way too much work. I worked on crafting a follow-up statement. Apparently I needed a why.

"'Cuz no one has moved me."
"Timing."
"Just haven't found the one."
"I haven't found someone I wouldn't cheat on..."
"I've come close but..."
"I was really just in a different space when I was younger..."
"I've been really focused..."

No matter what I said, there never seemed to be a recovery from that statement. At least not during that convo. There was always a lingering question.

And then one day I figured "Eff it."

Like most awkward moments, it's awkward cuz you made it that way. Same with feeling some kind of way and thinking folks are judging you...not to say they aren't, but you only really care if you're judging yourself.

It is what it is.

Maybe if I'd locked something down, the moments wouldn't feel so awkward.

But I'm sure that locking something down would not have made me happier.

There still isn't one who got away.

In the Now

2011-08-17T06:23:00.000-07:00

She said she knew from the moment she met him. It sounded cliche, but felt real. I know that's how she made it through the ups and downs.

It wasn't directed at me, but it was meant for me to see. Funny thing about social media.

We have him in common. He is her past, present, and future. For me he's a moment turned memory who is still very much around.

I reread the statement.

If I could mark the "letting go" point, that would be it.
Odd an old love's current love inspired me to make room for something real.

I could never say that about him.
I was never certain.
Barely hopeful... Just very convincing.

Never comfortable enough with him being my present, I waited for something to fall into place.
Made everything about our future.
Rested on potential.
Built hope on Matrix and Love Jones references.

But why dream of a future with someone you can't fully enjoy in the now?

My Muse?

2011-08-14T13:26:00.000-07:00

Will you be my muse?
Allow me to feel long enough to write
Make me believe in kismet
Let me place passion over logic long enough to tell our story

Will you bless me with kisses
That put words in my mouth
The kind I have to get out
And thus spill from my pen
Proving I've been divinely inspired

Trace my tattoos with the tips of your fingers
Bringing new insights about their shapes
And meanings

Offer up a mind
I can fall in love with
And a body I can be one with
And an acceptance that isn't rooted in entitlement

Will you be my muse?
My one for now
The prototype born in transition
And fully equipped to help me through mine

Unplug me
And be my Trinity
No white girl, weed, or Henny necessary
I need a little help getting free

Can you feel in the moment and eternal
Be my excitement and calm
Allow me to find and lose myself in you

Will you be my muse?

Things Fall Apart (Part II)

2011-08-11T13:36:00.000-07:00

And I believe when you say that you've lost all faith

But you must believe in something, something, something

You gotta believe in something, something, something...

I just don't believe we're wicked

I know that we sin but I do believe we try

We all try...

- Frank Ocean, "Well All Try," Nostalgia/Ultra

So if we know that things fall apart and think that Paul was a liar, why do we try?

Some of don't. We take the easy way out. And then when we figure out that that doesn't really work, we half-hope. We half-believe. If I could count the number of times I've heard someone who had enough courage to love and believe in love fully be labeled a fool who believes in fairy tales...

After talking to my friend about our ideal union that came undone, I had dinner with another friend who knew the story well. She was actually one of the first people with whom I had the "If they can't make it," convo. Two Oakland girls in a Harlem apartment eating pasta with sauteed spinach and mushrooms, drinking wine, discussing our attraction to things that fall apart. The men who clearly didn't fit. The situations that were clearly bad. How easy, and inevitable, it was for the unavailable to attract other unavailable folks.

On the way out I raided her bookshelf. My first selection? All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks.

Youth culture today is cynical about love. And that cynicism has come from their pervasive feeling that love cannot be found. Expressing this concern in When All You've Ever Wanted Isn't Enough, Harold Kushner writes: "I am afraid that we may be raising a generation of young people who will grow up afraid to love, afraid to give themselves completely to another person, because they will have seen how much it hurts to take the risk of loving and have it not work out. I am afraid that they will grow up looking for intimacy without risk, for pleasure without significant emotional investment. They will be so fearful of the pain and disappointment that they will forgo the possibilities of love and joy." Young people are cynical about love. Ultimately, cynicism is the great mask of the disappointed and betrayed heart. – pg xviii

I was reminded of a conversation with two other Bay Area homies about getting into situations because they had a clear way out.

For many of us, things were falling apart because instead of looking for/waiting for the real thing, we'd rather choose things that were clearly destined to fell, that way we wouldn't be too disappointed. Folks even had a set list of signs, an exit strategy if you will. It was the smart way to this if things were gonna fall apart anyway...

It felt like control. It felt like intelligence. We were minimizing risk. And we knew enough jaded people who would celebrate our shared cynicism as signs of genius and focus.

But in reality being cynical was becoming too draining.

Yes, things fall apart. But we want to believe they don't have to.

We're trying to believe they don't have to.

Things Fall Apart (Part I)

2011-08-10T06:53:00.000-07:00

We knew from the start that things fall apart

and tend to shatter

she like, that shit don't matter

when I get home get at her

through letter, phone whatever

let's link, let's get together

-The Roots, "You Got Me," Things Fall Apart

"They aren't together anymore," she whispered. Even though the music was blaring through the speakers and no one dancing with us knew who "they were," she knew that she'd let out a secret that would crush many. I stopped dancing and just looked at her. "They are getting a divorce," she said as if I didn't know what they aren't together anymore meant. This time her tone was lower. She struggled with the words. Looked as defeated as I felt. "Wow," I said attempting but failing to ease back into my two-step. It was time for my birthday drink.

I managed to make it through the rest of the night without thinking about "them" or "the divorce." I woke up questioning love. It'd taken a while for me to get to the "faith in love" portion of life. A constant struggle, I was coaching myself to believe. I pulled examples to help me out. I'd decided that at 25 I would make even more of an effort to be open and to believe. But so far my birthday month had yielded reason after reason what that love ish was for the birds. My homie was ready to leave her husband, but that was kind of expected. I reasoned that they got married too young and had too many things going against them. My situation had turned to shambles, but I reasoned it wasn't love so it didn't really count or matter. But as I processed the news from the night before, I felt sick to my stomach. If the two dopest people I'd ever met in my life couldn't stay together, we were all doomed.

I pretended I didn't know. I avoided both of them. I prepared for word to travel. When people starting hitting me up sounding as distraught as I felt, I was quick to lecture them about putting couples on pedestals. I explained why it wasn't healthy to put so much on a relationship that you knew nothing about. In a detached tone I'd say some variation of, "I mean...things fall apart."

It was all stuff we knew but I think what we were trying to process... what I was trying to figure out is how do you... why do you pursue, hope for, believe in love and lasting companionship when you know that things fall apart?

It's been months since the divorce, but anytime I'm talking to a friend that has been mentored by the couple the split always comes up. For everyone struggling with relationship issues, it's a reference point. "I'm never getting married," a really good friend told me the other week. "I don't believe in that, you see what happened to them."

I was tempted to say something, but I didn't. The real issue isn't that one of the couples we looked up to split. The issue is that we didn't grow up with enough real life examples of relationships that work. I have a few and I'm always searching for more, but when I really think about it Hollywood and storybooks were the only places we saw "love that lasts." Everything else that has been presented to us as love has made a liar of Paul. We don't need headlines and statistics to tell us that.

Murder to Excellence

2011-08-08T18:03:00.000-07:00

Is it genocide?

'Cuz I can still hear his mama's cries

Know the family traumatized...

It's a war going on outside

We ain't safe from

I feel the pain of my city

Where ever I go

- Kanye, "Murder to Excellence," Watch the Throne

I was ready to write something else. Relationships mainly. Possibly something on career or my return to NY. My mind is full of drafts. But then I read that a 3-year-old was shot and killed during a drive-by. My mind stayed there. On that corner just a few blocks from my house. In front of that Lil Ceasears that I walked by damn near every day. The one my sisters walk by damn near every day.

I wondered if my sister walked by there today on the way to the store and if maybe just maybe she was pushing my nephew in a stroller at the time. 1:12 pm? Really?

I figure there will be a vigil of sorts. People will light candles, tie balloons to chain linked fences and poles, and leave stuffed animals for a kid they never knew. No one will protest though. Yes, the kid was young, but there were no cops involved, so I doubt there will be picket signs. I pray that I'm wrong.

This is the shit that brings me back to reality. The shit that makes me mad at the world.

And then I realize it's not about be upset with the world, it's about being mad at me.

These are the nights I stare at my calendar, and the events I was excited about make me feel sick. I look at my computer disgusted that I didn't tweet, write, say more things of substance.

This morning as I listened to the new Jay and Yeezy, prepping for anticipated debates about the quality of the album a line jumped out at me.

"where half the school got a tool" ... he could have been talking about The Town :(

That was my first tweet. Followed by:

I always feel some kind of way about not being home

and

Never feel like I'm doing enough

and finally

"I can't help the poor if I'm one of them, so I got rich and gave back. to me that's the win win" ???? eh maybe

The last is from Jay's "Moment of Clarity."

It put me in a mood the whole day. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. But I know I can't just wait til I make it to do something. And I know that my volunteer work here and there doesn't feel like enough.

I also know I can't save the world.

But I'm useless if I don't try.

Until It Isn't

2011-08-02T18:31:00.000-07:00

I quoted EJD and said "F*cking is Easy" and the common response was "Not Really."

Word.

There are layers.

But here's the thing... it is until it isn't. Unless it was never easy and you were just fronting.

Pause.

If you've always found it hard to just get it poppin', these posts ain't for you.

Play.

It's like that Jill Scott song "Epiphany." She's bragging about all the things she can do. How she's wearing dude out. How she is putting it down. But in the end she feels empty.

I've heard some variation of this from all of my male and female friends who were once notorious for getting it poppin but have now found that getting it poppin just isn't enough. The thrill of conquering is gone and they'd much rather know than guess who they will be with that night.

Even for the folks who are still "too busy" to commit or don't like the amount of work building a relationship takes, the randomness just isn't appealing.

For some it's a welcome transition. A sign that they are indeed growing up. For others it's a struggle. Who is this new person? How will the new them be received? If loving and leaving was their claim to fame, what do they make of the new identity? How do you process the switch from being numb to caring, especially when it (seemingly) happens overnight?

Thoughts?

The Easy Way Out

2011-07-18T19:17:00.000-07:00

"F*cking is easy. Love is hard."

It was high school, the early part. I was in my Eric Jerome Dickey phase. I marked the page. And when I got home I wrote it my journal. It hit me. Hard. I didn't really get it, but I knew it meant something important. It was something I would go back to at some point.

Fast forward to life with my first boyfriend. I got it. This love ish was not for play play. It wasn't cute. It wasn't like the movies. It was work.

Turns out I only thought I got it.

Yesterday, I was working on the new design for the blog and started reading old posts. How was it that I could post "The C Word" when I'd just posted "Summer Rain?" How is it that I could have conversations with My Boy about wanting a certain chocolate friend all to myself, but not wanting to make it official? I thought about how a few weeks back I'd almost missed out on a very cool date that included wine and a blanket in Central Park because our schedules didn't fall in sync instantly and I felt like it was too much work.

A chat with one of the homies a few hours later made me remember the quote: F*cking is easy. Love is hard.

Maybe we kick it because actual dating and building relationships take work. And when you're working to establish yourself and working to discover yourself and struggling to feed yourself and keep a roof over your head, the idea of working on one more thing is too much.

We want something easy. We want something convenient.

We have deadlines. We have schedules. We have a ton of people to answer to. We have questions that need answering. We have anxiety to spare.

Want something that's free flowing. We want something that requires no explanations. We want something that just is.

And even when we question why... we rationalize that it can't really be that bad if this is the only time we're taking the easy way out.

The C Word

2011-07-17T15:32:00.000-07:00

"I don't commit to much of anything," as soon as I said it I wanted to take it back. Vocalizing had made it all too real.

I was standing in the park and we were chatting about my inability to commit to simple things like oh let's which happy hour to attend or what I was going to do when I got home that night.

Yes, it's that bad.

We decided it was time for me to start practicing commitment.

But I didn't.

A few weeks later I was reminded of need to commit to something, hell anything other than going to work in the morning.

"It sounds like you're afraid of the time commitment and what you'll be missing out on, but really it isn't that bad." He was talking about my back and forth with grad school. I was thinking about everything in life. I realized that my issue is how I define commitment. I never think about the doors that will be opened, or the benefits of commitment. I only think about what I won't have if I commit.

Commit sounds like limit.
Commit sounds like lockdown.
Commit sounds like loss of freedom.
Boundaries.
Rules.
Responsibility.
Worry.
Being required to care about more than I have the capacity...

If I could just make it sound different...

The Thing About Balance

2011-06-29T04:51:00.000-07:00

Sophomore thru senior year at least one freshmen would ask me the big question: So how do you balance it all?

My answer: I don't believe in balance.

It was never the answer they wanted and they always wanted to know more. How could I not believe in balance? Isn't that what everyone in the world was looking for?

Eh. Not me. I'd never seen anyone master the art of "balance." I was never interested in multiple things equally. There was always someone or something more important than someone or something else. I didn't feel the need to pretend otherwise. I decided not to break my neck to prove otherwise.

Last year when I read Thembisa Mshaka's Put Your Dreams First: Handle Your Entertainment Business, I fell for the word function. Speaking on the myth of work-life balance, Mshaka introduced the idea of work-life function. Pure awesomeness. Though I was a couple of years out of undergrad, I was still getting the balance question and now I had new twist to my spiel.

That was until I realized that my non-belief in balance and the way I was adapting the term function enabled me to operate in unhealthy levels of chaos. I would OD on whatever my focus was at the time, crash, and then recuperate. Then I would do it all over again. There was the occasional moment where I thought "this can't be life," but it was a cycle. And I was used to it.

One day I decided on a new word: Sustainable.

1 : capable of being sustained

2 a : of, relating to, or being a method of harvesting or using a resource so that the resource is not depleted or permanently damaged <sustainable techniques> <sustainable agriculture> b : of or relating to a lifestyle involving the use of sustainable methods <sustainable society>

That's what I'm going for, a lifestyle that sustainable.

Summer Rain

2011-06-12T11:40:00.000-07:00

Rainy days have a way of making you think.

My first thought Saturday morning was: It's Mr. Cooper's Birthday.

I blocked it out and started cleaning. I forced my mind in every direction except his. Tired of cleaning I figured the next thing to do would be run. But it was raining. So I sat there. I had so much to say. I reached for the phone but stopped before I could search for the number that had been deleted and reentered more than once.

I grabbed my computer and logged on to Facebook. His name appeared on the right, but I didn't click. I stared. Looked out the window at the gray sky and then let a couple of tears drop. I decided eff it and opened a Word doc.

To the guy who was everything I wanted him to be

The way I wanted him to be

But ultimately taught me it was time to grow-up

And out of the talking slash chilling phase

Who showed me that I wanted more

And to get it I would have to give

To the man who had so much to do with the new me

The me that everyone will attribute to my being 25

or to all my homies being coupled up

When really it’s because I don’t want my guards

To be the reason I miss out on someone like you again…

I sent the full poem to a few friends. I was happy that I'd written something. I've had the illest case of writer's block as of late. I was irritated that it was about him. Didn't want him to be my muse. He was already so much...

Later I walked 11 blocks and two aves to Michele's house. It was raining. Everyone had an umbrella but me. I could have grabbed one, but the drops were soothing. I kept going over the poem in my head. And then there was the epiphany.

At Michele's we sipped tea and played catch up. Eventually, we got to the relationship segment and I shared the thoughts that dawned on me somewhere between 117th and 118th on Lennox Ave.

"I was waiting for the moment when I wanted to be in a relationship my desire didn't feel like thirst. I didn't want to be the girl waiting for a man to complete her. I didn't want to be the girl who thought her life would end if she didn't commit."

"I'm there now," I continued. "I'm in a space where I genuinely enjoy being single and in a space where I would love to have someone to build with."

I smiled because a while back, I didn't know that it was possible to feel both.

Doing It Again

2011-05-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

“…but would you do it all again?”

“Yes.”

Long Pause

“Really?”

“Yes.”

I can’t count the number of times I’ve had that exact dialogue. I suppose that when things fall apart, you’re supposed to want go back to the beginning and erase it all. But I don’t. Even if I had a shot at the eternal sunshine that comes with a spotless mind, and decided to take it, I’d be like Jim Carey. You have to see the movie. Anywho, the point is I like my memories. A lot. And if I had to do it again, the whole hanging with Mr. Cooper thing, knowing it would end the same way, I’d do it. And I’d enjoy it. As long as I would still learn all of the lessons, feel all of the emotions, and grow as much as I grew it that year, I would so do it again.

I think Mr. Cooper is a critical part of my early twenties narrative. Months ago I would walk around repeating lines to a poem I had every intention of writing. “Before this phase passes, before tensions surface, before you become the reason for side-eyes, before we fade I want to say thank you. Thank you for teaching me…” I never wrote it. But on occasion I’d list a few things. Thank you for challenging me to communicate, and not getting frustrated when I didn’t. Thank you for being the man with whom I could be all versions of me. For Action movies and omelets. For concerts and two-stepping. For shots of 1800 and GRE words. For encouraging me to rap Jay songs at the top of my lungs. For always being honest, even when the truth wasn’t pretty.

So much of that year was spent figuring out, getting to know, understanding, and growing in to myself. He pushed me and I appreciate that. He accepted me and I appreciate that. I was never compelled to be more than what we were. It didn’t feel right. Something was always missing. I joked that it was because he was my Darius, explained that it was all timing, hoped for a next lifetime, tried my best not to fall, and prayed the break wouldn’t hurt too much.

I fell deeper than I wanted. The break hurt way more than I thought it should have. Put it all on timing. And I contemplated never telling any of the stories because I didn’t want to paint him as the bad guy. But I promised not to disrespect or ignore my process for the sake of his, and writing is part of my process. Honestly, the fact that I still smile at the thought of him and sometimes tear up when thinking about the spiral, but genuinely wish him the best and consistently pray for his happiness is mind-boggling. But it is what it is. And what will be will be.

Growing Up (Poem)

2011-05-11T04:53:00.000-07:00

I’ve taken too many Ls

Going with the flow has left me stagnant

So I’ve decided to switch it up

Learn my lesson

And grow up

See now I break rules on purpose with clear intentions

Choose which games to play

Because if you abstain completely

You can never win

I’ve accepted that people must be motivated

That you have to provide incentives

And everyone requires training

I lean more towards stability

Because my heart no longer handles anxiety

Realized that the system was created

And has lasted this long for a reason

Yearn for pedestals instead of running from them

Because it makes for controlled courting

Found beauty in boxes

Comfort in structure

Learned to hate the color gray

I can only see black and white

Cling to definitions no matter how outdated

Yes, I am in love with the antiquated

Because I’ve learned that if you progress too much

Too soon

Too fast

You’ll have to back track or be left alone

And no matter how many times you replay the John Mayer song

Perfect and lonely do not go

I am now grown

Steps will be calculated

Only actions considered are those that will make me wifeable

Proper women get rings

While dreamers and rebels

Are left with pieces of men, memories and cold pillows

I have learned my lesson

This is called growing up

Yes, growing up

Giving up

Whatever works

The Last Encounter

2011-05-10T16:29:00.000-07:00

She's here....

I glanced at the text. What many would later call "unbelievable" was actually quite expected. Maybe I spoke it into existence. But I couldn't imagine leaving Oakland without there being one final run-in. I'd made peace with everything else that amounted to a little more than a year and a half of being home. I'd said a number of goodbyes. My parents hosted an amazing going away party. And when I got the text I was at surprise going away that My Boy orchestrated. It was an amazing final days and then the text came.

Rereading the text I felt something. I felt a lot of things. I attempted to quiet my thoughts with another drink.

When I got to the "here" my homegirl was talking about, folks did their best to distract me. Hugs and well-wishes were mixed in with attempts to keep me on one side of the room. Others attempted to warn me. I smiled, "Yeah, I know" and requested a Parish Punch. The uber fruity rum punch had become a favorite.

I looked around and I didn't see her initially. But Mr. Cooper was there. And I got that feeling again. Or those feelings. I think it's a combination of sinking and chaos. I didn't have that feeling when a week after I announced that I would be moving back to New York, he announced that he was going to be a father. That was actually a funny moment. No really, I laughed. Not because he was joking, but because he'd told me the same thing in a dream the night before. I think the chaotic sinking feeling that came over me in the middle of final going away celebration was closer to the feeling I got when Facebook broke the news that She and Mr. Cooper had decided that they would do the couple thing. For all my musings about what happens when he moves on and you don't, I didn't actually think the portrait of a happy family would be painted before I stepped foot on New York concrete. But the perfectly-posed photos of a beautiful Black couple in my newsfeed said something completely different.

We hugged. We two-stepped. We chatted. It was the distant banter that we'd become accustomed to since the news of his new role. A distant banter of people trying to gloss over reality. Eventually, I saw her. She waved. Just like the time I ran into them celebrating her birthday, she was happy to see me. The happy that only exists in ignorance. She couldn't possibly know the history. I walked over and we talked. She said how happy she was for me to be leaving. I congratulated her on her budding family and actually meant it. I was a weird moment. One I couldn't fully process, but that provided much clarity. I knew her life wasn't meant for me. I knew her man wasn't meant for me. I knew that next time I would do things differently. I truly believed that things happened for a reason. And so I danced. Danced like I was free. Chilled with all the homies and welcomed celebratory shots. And when it was time for them to leave, I hugged him goodbye and told him I'd miss him.

It wasn't until I got home that it really hit me. Of all of the times I'd felt like the other woman. This was the worst. This was worse than the times I'd actually been the other woman. In this situation the man with whom I spent my time was as uncommitted as they came. They weren't official 'til our fling ended. But the reality is we spent our time with the same uncommitted man and she had the luxury of never knowing about me. Yeah she knew there were others, but she never had a face, a body, drinking habits, demeanor, lifestyle, personality etc. to compare to her own. And in that moment, she didn't have to worry about what people would say after the party. The same people who were meeting her for the first time and commenting on her Facebook about what a lovely couple they were, were the same folks that were hanging with me and Mr. Cooper not too many moons before. As usual with the "main" chick, she was protected. I was left to fend for myself. And that evening in "main" chick fashion, she went home with her knight. And in typical sidechick fashion, I went home to my pillow and cried.

Notes on Settling

2011-04-07T23:49:00.000-07:00

"If you are fine with settling, we'll never work anyway."

It was a text. I talking to my girl E about heartbreak and moving on. Really I was explaining how I move so quickly after the shattered feeling. If dude is genuinely happy post whatever he and I had, I transition smoothly. If I love you, your happiness is my main concern. I love seeing you happy, even if it's not with me. But if I get the slightest hint that dude is settling, I dwell a bit, wonder some, pray a lot, and hope that he does better. I also move on quickly. So quick that people question the depth of feelings that I once claimed.

It's not that I never cared. It's just that once I know a man to be the type that settles, I can't rock with him. Why? Because if he ever tries to be with me, I'll never be certain that he isn't just settling for me. I'd rather be alone than settle or be the one he settled for. Even if the world doesn't know that we mutually decided to work things out because we were tired of the crap others were bringing to the table. Even if we're "good." That ish is just not enough for me. It's not enough in my love life. It's not enough in my career. Eff comfort. Eff easy. Eff settling. That ish doesn't move me.

The craziest thing for me right now is how people justify settling. As we get older, giving up becomes the adult thing to do. We don't say we are settling, we say we are doing what's right. We don't say that we've lost faith, we say that we've matured. We won't admit that image, ideals, and other people's thoughts drive us more than our purpose. And our friends won't call us out because they've done it too and because it is expected.

Until recently, my biggest fear was being alone. I didn't vocalize it often and a lot of folks who know me are probably rereading that line with a surprised and questioning expression. I still think about the possibility, but I don't worry. My biggest fear right now is settling. The idea that I will trade in my dreams and change up all the things that make me me in the name of growing up and taking the safe, respectable route, scares the shit out of me.

Leaving...But Not Running

2011-04-05T22:48:00.000-07:00

"You can't always run."

Double R tells me that often. I think it's because he knows me better than most. It's also because he has not a problem with calling me out. When he tells me I shrug it off or offer a sarcastic reply, but I know he's right. And more often than not, I had already repeated the same thing to myself before our conversation.

Next week I'll be a Harlem resident again. That means this week I'll scramble to see all of the people I should have been actively seeing while home. It means that I'll attempt to tie loose ends. It means that everyone I've had a crush on will suddenly start calling and want to hang out. It means I'll have a series of freakouts that very few will witness first hand. It also means I'll have to answer a series of questions that all boil down to one question: Why?

I have tons of reasons. The most obvious being that I'm a writer and want to live where the magic happens. I'll talk about the editors, the writers, the magazines, the contact, etc and so forth. But honestly those reasons have always existed. The difference between me hopping a plane next week versus all of the other times I've had the urge is, well, this time I'm not running.

If you know me well, or you've been reading this blog for a while, you know the deal. You know why I moved home. You know that I was scared I wouldn't fit. You also know that I was still for a while and then I found my place. It's funny that finding my place would be the key factor in my being able to leave. But feeling at home in my hometown and then uprooting means that I'm moving towards instead of running from.

I had to be sure I wasn't going back to NYC because it was comfortable. Had to know that I wasn't going back because I couldn't get my ish together on the West Coast. I had to know that I hadn't cracked under the pressure of being responsible or the pressure of being accountable to other people. I had to know that I could function as a real person with real emotions, instead of as a robot programed solely to hustle, and not crack.

If I was going to be a rolling stone, I had to know that it was about choice and not fear.

And so I'm off to chase dreams...but not because I'm running from reality.

Getting in the Way of My Vision

2011-01-17T10:03:00.000-08:00

Last month I took to Twitter with a bunch of vision board talk. I knew I wanted a new one for the new year, but I wasn't sure what to put on the board. I also had questions about what folks did with previous boards. As much as I tweeted, collected magazines, stared at my old board, and daydreamed about 2011, I couldn't get motivated enough to sit down and figure out what I wanted. I figured I'd eventually be moved and if not, my 2010 board could go another round.

Fast forward a few days and I'm in Harlem, sipping a Gingerbread Latte, watching reruns of The Game, and snipping away. When I was done, I snapped a pic and set it as the background on my phone. I was super happy with the end product and then suddenly I felt overwhelmed. How the hell was I going to pull all of this off? Who told me it was okay to dream this damn big? When and where was I supposed to start?

When I made my board I was in a zone. It wasn't about what made sense, what was "feasible", or what people would think. It was about what I wanted and how I felt. Yet, I found a way to shut myself down. No haters necessary.

But then I focused on "You've Got The Power," and something else clicked. If I could live in the same manner that I created my vision board, grabbing on to pieces that moved me, not limiting myself, and not getting in my own way, things would be great.

Preemptive Measures

2011-01-11T09:27:00.000-08:00

Don't leave while you're hot. That's how Mase screwed up. - Kanye "Devil in a New Dress"

I spend a fair amount of time trying to figure out when to leave. Most of the people I know who are unhappy are that way because they stayed too long. Whether they are bitter about work, their living situations, relationships, or their social circle, it's usually because they've tried to extend some ish far past the expiration date.

But for all of my leaving before cliched shit hits cliched fan, I wonder if I leave too soon.

Recently one of my girls asked about my dating life and I told her things were good. "Don't sabotage yourself," she said. I laughed because she knows me so well. She knew that I was about to pull back. Limit interactions just to avoid heartbreak even though it didn't appear imminent. However, you never really see it coming, right?

But what about my desire to go back to NY just when things are finally settled at home? Or the fact that I prefer contracts and multiple projects instead of a steady gig? Is it restlessness? Is it pursuing opportunities? Is it my undying need for options? Is it an inability to commit? Is it fear of failure?

I've stayed too long before. I've gotten to the point of crying and being depressed because I had to go to the office. I've let men have my heart long after they made it clear that I never had theirs to begin with. I've been so committed to people and things that weren't committed to me that I chose "love" over happiness and "security" over happiness, hell a paycheck over happiness.

Right now I'm working to find the balance. Can't leave too soon or stay after things have spoiled. Can't miss what's here chasing what might be.

Only things I'm sure of: Timing is Everything And I Don't Believe in Being Unhappy

Who's Coming With Me?

2010-12-31T11:12:00.000-08:00

The New Year is always an interesting time for me. I never know how much I want to play along. Every day is new, so every single day we have the option to leave old dramas, old habits, and all of the other old ish. And when you get even more exact, you can argue that each moment has the same power. In 2010 I really tried to focus on the newness of it all and live in the here and now. But after reading old blogs and spending the past few weeks reflecting and then reflecting some more, I'm moved to put more emphasis on the new year and clean breaks. It just fits my current mental space. The new year is coming at a time when I desperately need change. So I'm asking a lot of questions:

What do I want?
What needs to change?
If you attract what you are, how should I be changing/growing in the new year?

Is there a place where I can be more productive?
Are there people who will provide more inspiration?
Will my location help or hinder my dreams?
How can I be a better friend?
What have I learned from my dating "situations"?

There are more but you get the picture.

There are people, attitudes, and habits that really need to stay in 2010 if I want 2011 to be better. I spent a lot of the year trying to get to good. I just wanted things to feel good. I didn't want life to be so chaotic. I didn't want to be so stressed.

Mission officially accomplished.

But then I started feeling all sorts of weird. And it's because once things got good and I was feeling more content than I'd ever been, I started just existing. It was like I settled for good. It took reading through the archives, comparing 2009 with 2010, and being slightly anti-social for me to figure out the issue. So now I'm like eff good, what's up with great?

As Jay says, "it's all about progression, loiterers should be arrested." So I'm on to the next one.

Who's coming with me?

She Makes Him Feel Like a Man

2010-12-13T10:09:00.000-08:00

She makes him feel like a man...

I have no clue what this statement means. Like I get it, kinda. But it always fux with me. No matter how it's phrased or what tone the person takes, it always feels like a jab. I always get the sense that I've been grouped with the "overly independent" or the "crazy chicks" who yell, scream and bring the drama. Why do I feel some kind of way? Because I have baggage, duh.

I've been called "intimidating" since middle school. I bought into until I graduated from college. That's when I realized that I should probably analyze my actions and patterns instead of leaning on the "men find me intimidating" crutch. But even after getting over that issue, or maybe because I became hyperaware of certain actions in the process, I'm always concerned with whether or not I am "letting a man be a man."

I think I'm pretty supportive and caring etc., but as soon as someone says "well it's just that you're so strong," "you don't let him get away with stuff," "you're just so busy," or any of the other things that people say in an attempt to comfort me, I feel lost. It's like until I become someone other than myself, I will be viewed as an emasculating force. Arg.

So last night when I heard "well, she makes him feel like a man," my thoughts went into overdrive.

How does one make a man feel like a man? How are we defining man? And if he doesn't feel like a man with me, am I doing something wrong? Is the issue that he doesn't feel like a man on his own?
Thoughts?

When You'd Do It For Free

2010-12-07T10:16:00.000-08:00

Figure out what you love and what you'd do for free and then do that...

This is the advice that is given to folks trying to find their passion and their calling. The search usually prompts the advised to take inventory of their activities and hobbies, read a few self-help books, or even attend workshops and talks about find their calling.

Figuring out what you truly love is amazing. Deciding you will do that full-time is, in many cases, a great leap. Making a living...well that's where ish gets tough. For musicians, artist, freelancers, and entrepreneurs I know, myself included, the transition from dreamer to business person is quite difficult.

Deciding rates for services, figuring out how much should be done for "exposure," and not starving are far from easy. Starting out you may not be confident enough in your abilities to ask for a lot of money, hell even the going rate. Then there is the whole "bad economy" thing, so you try to understand that clients, customers, etc. don't really have it in their budget to pay you. There's also the fear of coming off as a "diva" or "doing too much", when really you just want to pay Sallie and not have to live off Ramen. And even if you've gotten over all of those issues, this is what you love, what you'd do for free, what you have done for free, and in some capacity what you still do for free...how do you put a price tag on what you love?

When I quit my job in July, I didn't actually think about these things. But now I'm trying to move out and uhh ish just got real. Last week while plotting out my expenses and deciding exactly how much I would need to make in order to have a certain lifestyle, I started feeling overwhelmed. I hit up my homie Michele and gave quite the motivation gchat lecture.

"It's not for me, it's for my grandbabies. That's what keeps me motivated. I want them to have it easier, to be able to come to NY and have a place to stay...It's not personal. Everyone else is getting paid, why not us? Just because I would do it for free, I'm not. I have a legacy to build and working for free won't get me there."

The legacy piece put it all in perspective. Yes, I have to pay dues and build, but I can't lose the big picture.

My prices just went up.

A Friendly Reminder

2010-11-29T10:39:00.000-08:00

Sometimes we like who a person could be instead of who they are.

It's a problem that I have. I've had it for a while. Maybe forever. I always see a person's potential. But at some point I promised I wouldn't fall for potential. Recently, I had to remind myself. See, I'd started talking too much about the future instead of the here and now. I was talking about what I could see happening instead of what was actually going on.

As of late I've met a lot of nice guys, a lot of guys with potential, they remind me of the scene in the Matrix when Neo meets the Oracle*. There's all this hype about Neo being The One. Problem is he's not ready/he doesn't think he is, but he goes to the Oracle for her to tell him whether he is or isn't. Her answer: Sorry Kid. You've got the gift, but it looks like you're waiting for something.

Truth is I'm not moved. I feel like they've got the gift, but there's something missing. Not even on the level of being "the one" simply on the level of "I should be here now." In most cases I hold on longer than I should because I really have a problem with letting go of a good guy. I always have to remind myself that just because he is a "Good Guy," doesn't mean he is good for me.

The other issue: Finding someone who gets me. Somewhere along the line I've convinced myself that I'm hard to get. I think it's because I've run into more people who don't than do, especially when it comes to dating. The result has been me getting overly excited by the fact that someone is perfectly fine with and actually embraces me doing me. Sometimes I get so excited that I ignore the that there's something missing in hopes that it will develop over time. Sometimes I let that "yay, I can be me" feeling glaze over the lack of spark.

My sister came to town this week. I absolutely love talking to her. She was giving me a dose of happily married woman knowledge and she said something that's been sticking with me: You can be compatible or rather have a ton in common with a lot of people. If you don't feel it, you don't feel it. It either is or it isn't.

That reminded me of another favorite movie quote:

"Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soulmate." —Rachel Hansen, 500 Days of Summer

*The embed is disabled but you can watch the clip here.

A Note on Passion

2010-11-23T06:24:00.000-08:00

Today's Horoscope:

Your love life sees a sharp spike in interest-- maybe from someone unexpected -- and you may have to make a big decision. Passion is important, but so is connectedness. Think it all through.

Ha.

The idea of passion is one that always gets me tripped up. After falling in and out of like so quickly a number of times I've realized that at times I just like being liked. Yes, I know everyone likes to be liked, but this particular discovery about myself has been very important. It keeps a lot of feelings from being hurt. I'm able to step back and analyze. I ask series of questions the main one being "do I like him, or do I like the fact that he likes me?" I also ask "do I like him or do I like the newness of this situation?" And one the most telling questions is "am I really stressed out right now?" That last question is critical. I've learned that when I'm super stressed I yearn for that comfort and extra praise that comes when someone is (or thinks they are) truly madly deeply. That sort of craving or yearning could have me deal with someone I have no real interest in, someone I feel no real connection with, solely because they are passionate about me. I don't want to be a jerk, so I refrain from using people as band-aids for deadline and project induced wounds. It takes a lot, but I'm pretty good at avoiding that trap these days. Note: Karma is real.

Here's the other part about "passion," or liking: folks express it in different ways. I remember having a conversation with one of the homies about wanting a particular person to like me. "How do you know he doesn't?" I listed a number of reasons, he side-eyed all of them. Then he presented the example of two people in church. Person A is a shouter, Person B isn't, does it mean that Person A loves God more or has more of a connection? No, they just have different forms of expression. Le sigh. It clicked and so I pay very close attention when making comparisons, because folks are different and while it's ultimately about how I feel, I must be sure not to overlook certain actions and fall victim to the 80-20.

Passion is important, but so is connectedness.

Definitely keeping that in mind today and beyond.

Contentment 101: Don't Apologize for How You Feel

2010-11-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

Please don't take the title of this post as me saying it is okay to subject the world to your emotional roller coaster. This is not a pass to spaz. Also note that just because you feel a certain way doesn't make your perception or interpretation the next person's reality. However, apologizing for how you feel will get you no where. You can apologize for you how you act. You can apologize for how you treat people. But your feelings are your feelings.

The no apologies thing hit me today when I was on the train. I was thinking about conversations I'd had the past days and about I gchat I received this morning. One of the homies asked about my love life and I told her all was well. Not something I utter often. Until recently that is. So I was on the train trying to figure out what was so different now than a few months back. Why did everything seem so peaceful? Where did all of the anxiety go?

I realized that the difference between now and then was that I was honest about how I felt and I made no apologies. I've learned to acknoweledge and accept how I feel about situations instead of fighting and hiding. The latter approach is too draining and leads to chaos.

But this acceptance piece is not only on the dating front. I've been feeling a little out of whack since I'll be turning 25 in a couple of months. I've been a bit salty that I can happily dance around the house to Ne-Yo's "She Got Her Own" and claim it as my theme song anymore. I've been feeling a bit down about my finances. I've been feeling a little confused about school. I've been feeling like a slacker because I haven't accomplished a lot of ish on my list of things to do. The combination of all of these things would usually send me into a mild depression. Usually, I'd shut down, be anxious, spaz, or some combination of all of these things. But really, I'm good. I've made peace with the fact that knowing certain things (like age ain't nothin' but a number, plenty of people live at home, and I really do get a lot done), does not change how I feel. And being okay with the fact that my feelings aren't always logical, don't always line up with what I know to be "truth", and are nothing to be ashamed of, has made a huge difference.

My feelings are not for other folks to agree with and they aren't for me to push on other people. My job is not to feel bad for feeling or to apologize for having emotions. My job is to accept them cuz that's the first step to feeling better.

Acceptance is critical for contentment.

Lipstick, Rifles, and Hip-Hop

2010-11-04T10:00:00.001-07:00

Sunday night I slipped into my best jeans, favorite black boots, and a plain black shirt. I grabbed the leather jacket that I hardly ever wear even though I love the Africa patch that's permanently attached. Pops handed me his brand new black baret. I had the look. Felt like I'd start educating folks on the Ten Point Plan as soon as I walked out the house. Mom's grabbed the camera and the BB gun that looked like a rifle. Now, I looked like I was ready to pay a visit to the state capitol. All Black Panther Party everything. But before she could take the picture, I had to make sure my lipstick was right. Bright. Red. And Visible.

Why was lipstick so important? I never wear lipstick. Maybe the same reason my nails for freshly painted. Why did it matte that the colors were bright? Nudes and earth tones suit me just fine. Even if no one paid attention, even if these things weren't important on a regular day, they were so necessary that night. My statement was simple: I will not deny my womanhood for the movement.

Do I think lipstick and nail polish make me a woman? No. But lately femininity, feminism, womanhood, and sisterhood have been heavy on my brain and so I find comfort in subtle symbolism. I spend the majority of my time working with a male-dominated industry. Maintaining respect from others and embracing womanhood/femininity can be a battle. And even if you don't become hypersexualized to find a place, or hypermasculine to gain respect, it's still possible to lose your voice for the sake of "the culture."

It's nothing new. I've written many papers on intersectionality. I've spent a lot of time reading the works of Assata Shakur, Joan Morgan, and Patricia Hill Collins trying to make sense of it all. I don't have answers and I don't have balance.

But I am very aware.

Experiments in Happiness: Definitions and Such

2010-10-25T09:38:00.000-07:00

Freedom is the right to grow. It's the right to blossom. Freedom is the right to be yourself, to be who you are, to be who you want to be. - Assata Shakur

Last week I posted "If I Were A Boy," (word to Beyonce). The model worked for some. Others, eh, not so much. But what really jumped out, and really the reason I wrote the post in the first place, was how difficult it is to do and define things on your own terms:

Designing a relationship that works for you is deemed selfish and you are predicted to end up an old maid/spinster! - Prop3rlySw33t

I feel like the real question shouldn't be "If I was a boy" But “Why can't I define my relationships the way that I want”. - Chinyere'

And then there was this:

Forget society... define your own lives! - J_Audrianna

Of course this goes beyond the relationship question. Right now my life seems to be about constantly questioning definitions, experimenting with and redefining them, all on a quest for happiness. "Success" is very different for me now than it was two years ago. "Independent" doesn't mean what it used to and in some ways is no longer and important descriptor for me. I know for a fact that I am happiest when I do what moves me. There's no joy like feeling free to do me and what ever version of me I am at the time. There is something about exact definitions that make me feel really uncomfortable. I feel limited. Restricted. I also feel like nothing is really black or white and trying to force things into a one size fits all, doorless, windowless box leads to lies, hypocrisy, drama, etc.

But is it possible to go against societal norms and be a happy and functioning member in said society?

If I Were a Boy

2010-10-20T00:04:00.001-07:00

It's really strange trying to explain that you really like someone, enjoy spending time with them, and you don't really want to spend time with anyone else, but you don't want a relationship. It's not something that people get. Everyone thinks you're lying to yourself. Everyone says you just haven't met the right person. They don't believe you could possibly exist like this.

It's even harder to explain when you have breasts and a vagina.

Then you must really be lying. Or some man has run game on you and made you believe this is how you really feel. Oh and don't say it's because you need the time to focus on your career, because then you just might be the devil.

It's as if only men have the luxury of time. Only men have right to want the best of both worlds and the ability to opt out of the lifestyle and into a relationship on cue.

I'm trying to imagine a world where it would be okay to say:

Look, I'm 24. I have a lot that I want to get done in the next few years. Due to my goals, prior commitments, and desire to be by my damned self whenever I please, I am unable to give you all of me. I need the freedom to come and go as I please, keep crazy hours, and disappear from time to time without being questioned, harassed, or guilt tripped. These are all things that do not fly in a relationships and therefore I can't do a relationship right now. However, I'd like to be the only person you're sleeping with, your go to for the hang out sessions, your automatic date to events, and just your overall companion. I'd like for us to exist and enjoy it. You may think it's selfish, but this is where I am. I'd like for you to join. And to allow me the space of having my cake and eating it too. This is not me playing games, this is just me being real.

Sigh.

That probably doesn't really fly anywhere. And if it does, it only works for a couple of months. But I do think it would be more acceptable if I were a boy.

Flashback: Bar Scene

2010-10-19T18:38:00.000-07:00

SoCo and Coke was my drink of choice. He was throwing back Amaretto and cranberry. If that's the kind of drink you claim to "throwback." At any rate the bar tender took a liking to us. Thought we were the cutest couple she'd seen in a while. I chuckled. He sipped. She continued to comment throughout the night.

The convo was heavy then light then heavy again. Everything from the war, to family issues, to girls spazzing. But that's what we always talked about. Any and every single thing under the sun. I made promises to never abandon him. To always be his friend in a time of need. To never let emotions get the best of me. To understand. He wished for a man worthy of me to come swoop me off my feet. For me to be patient. He promised to protect my heart even when I wasn't smart enough to do so myself. We were calm. We were serious.

At some point he told me about her.

On some level I envied her. She was the one he always talked to, who he stayed with when he was in her area. She was the one who'd made the flights to see him. Taken the roadtrips when he was stationed back East. But for the most part I felt bad for her. He didn't want to be with her. But since he didn't want to be with anyone and she seemed to be the only one who could understand that, they existed. She doing all the girlfriend things and him reaping the boyfriend benefits. We both new she was playing the waiting game. She was trying to prove that she would hurt him like the ones before. She had faith in what they could be. He on the other hand was sure when he did decide to settle down years from now, it wouldn't be with her. She wasn't the one.

Our lovely bartender interrupted the convo. It was time for me to take a free shot out of her boobs. I obliged. We all laughed. The bartender asked if he was a military man. Yes. He was on leave and home for the week. "Y'all should get married while he's here. I see the way y'all look at each other. I know it's love."

Last week I ran into his mom. She'd just come from seeing him and the newborn. I couldn't believe it'd been ten months since the bar scene.

The Goal Isn't Finding Love, The Goal Is Not Becoming Jaded While Waiting

2010-10-13T07:39:00.000-07:00

I believe in timing.

That's why finding "the one" isn't a huge priority. Yes, I work to make sure I'm reading when said person comes along. Yes, I try to make sure I'm aware so I don't miss said person. (I'm not sure you can miss "the one" if that's what they are, and you if you do maybe they aren't or there's more than one.) Yes, I want love and all those things, but finding men is not really what I do. Don't think it's my job. Men find, women choose. But there is a lot of work in waiting. A lot that takes place before I get to choosing.

I feel like I spend a lot of my dating life paying for the mistakes of the women before me.

It doesn't always come out in the beginning, but eventually I find out about a cheater or indifferent lover. At some point the huge fight where she listed all of the reasons he "ain't shit" is recounted, and I see the hurt. I see the pain. Some times it's not even the women he's dated, but the other women in his life with whom he has had serious problems. The distance starts to make sense. His hesitance starts to make sense. The issues start to make sense.

At some point it clicks: It's not about me.

People have ish they have to deal with and I can't put a time constraint on their process. Just like when I'm recovering from a heart break or need space to figure out my wants and needs, it's not about the dude who is pursuing at the time. He can be great, but if I'm not ready, I'm just not ready. And there's nothing he can do to change that. Hell sometimes it's not even that deep. It could just be a bad day or a packed schedule. The point is that it's about me and where I am. The other point is folks have options. The choices are respect my process or leave.

My real focus is not becoming jaded.

I'm a person who gives a lot. I'm a person who is open and nurturing by default. I'm constantly growing and I have to make sure I don't let another person's issues and actions stunt my growth. I like to say "Don't let his actions keep you from getting your Proverbs 31 on." In the last few weeks, I've been reminded of past hurts. Everyone seemed to come back at once, and there was a lot for me to deal with. I had a conversation with My Boy and told him I wasn't built for it. Wasn't sure how many more times I could open myself up, get hurt, and then bounce back. Wasn't sure how many more times I could be "great and amazing," but not enough. No doubt it's hard not to say "eff dudes." It's hard not to say "well, two can play that game." But really it's never worth it. Once you're in the space of game playing, trying to get over, or just being way too guarded, it's really hard to come out.

Just Like the Movies

2010-10-08T00:04:00.000-07:00

"I'm tired of the fantasy because it doesn't really exist. And there are never really any surprises. And it never really...delivers." - Rob Gordon, High Fidelity (The Movie)

"Do you think it's because we watch too many movies?"

We were discussing her current "situation," and what she wanted it to look like.

"It probably has something to do with it. We were raised on happily ever afters."

I found it funny that she'd asked the question. I'd actually been thinking a lot about how folks compared their lives and relationships to television shows and their favorite movies. It took me a minute to realize that everything I "knew" about dating, relationships, and family came from Hollywood. The vision I had for my relationships and future family was based on these media images. When you grow up on fairy tales and The Cosby's, that tends to happen.

I forget when I snapped out of it. Probably some time in college when I started to interact with actual couples. That's also when I started interacting with families outside of the ones I grew up with. My expectations changed. My desires changed.

I still quote Love Jones. Frequently. When I'm trying to explain a dating situation it's very easy to compare it to a movie I know the person has seen. Just about every woman I know has some sort of "It's just like when Big and Carrie (fill in the blank)..." And there are still those moments when I relapse.

"Well, what's the issue?"

"I'm never really sure if he likes me."

"Wait, what?"

"Well, actually I feel like he likes me. He's not hella touchy. But neither am I. Like really, that clingy ish bothers me. So I guess it's not really a problem. I mean, if I ever mention or complain about something he's quick to fix it. He talks to me on the phone, even when the game is on..."

The list went on and on. When it came down to it, I was uncertain about dude's feelings for me and mine for him because we didn't act like the couples on the screen. I didn't want to admit it. But that was the truth. I was actually quite happy with the way things were playing out, I just wasn't sure if it was how things were supposed to play out. I'd never seen it written or acted out like this. I was good where I was, but I was still looking for a the fantasy.

No One Man

2010-10-06T00:04:00.000-07:00

"No one man should have all your power." - Suai, No One Man

We sat lotus style on my bedroom floor. Sage was burning. Lauryn Hill Unplugged was playing and she was crying. This was becoming our weekend routine.

Every week he did something to piss her off. And every weekend she cried about hating him but not being able to live with out him. She wanted him back. She needed him back. I hugged her and told her it would be okay. I held her and told her she was strong enough to move on. I reminded her of the things she had before they were together. Reminded her that she had a child to look after.

This weekend she told me he had a girlfriend. She started comparing herself to the new girl. She wondered aloud why she wasn't good enough to be with him. She wanted to know how he could move on when she'd done everything in her power to make him happy. All she wanted was him and all he wanted was to be with someone else.

Before they went bad (and before she ever met him) she was always smiling. She was one of the most joyful, giving, dependable, and loving people I knew. She had so many goals. She had so many plans. And now she was depressed and unmotivated.

Watching her hurt like this was painful. I did my usual. I even read some scripture with her. Then I played this song:

Leaps of Faith and Safe Landings

2010-10-04T00:04:00.000-07:00

"...we toasted: To success. No, scratch that. To success as we define it and living our lives on our terms.

It was the type of boost I needed going into my last week of work. Most folks knew I'd quit my job. They also knew that I wasn't looking for another. It's a hard thing for a person that has defined success according to the book of everyone except self. But I'd also told myself that I'd live my 24th year like I only had 24 hours to live. I also promised myself I would stop playing around and follow-through with my plans, goals, calling. The whole HereNow thing is so real to me. Realer than when I decided it would be my theme for this year." - Life on My Own Terms

Since the end of July I've been a full-time freelancer. I've been defining and redefining my goals, my mission, my place. I've been forwarding all of the job posts that have been sent to me, without applying. I've doubted my decision. I've reread scripture after scripture about faith. I've stared at my vision board. I've been and still am broke (not for long tho). But it's all been okay, because at the end of the day I'm happy.
This week I'm starting a gig as a consultant for a local non-profit. I'm an independent contractor, meaning I still work for myself and I'm an oustider providing services to a client. The work combines so much that is dear to me. I'll be able to work with youth. I'll be editing and writing. Developing and implementing new and social media strategies. It's all focused around healthy relationships. And it's in my hometown. I'm also doing a lot of work with a local news organization while freelancing for national publications. To say I am excited is an understatement.

It feels amazing to take a risk and be rewarded. It's so fulfilling to get up everyday and know that I'm doing what I want to do and living my dream. Whether I'm headed to the radio show, a cafe to write, or to teach a workshop, everyday is about walking a path that I've designed. It may be sketchy. It may seem unstable. But it's mine and it works for me.

It's also a path that I never would have started if I kept being afraid. But fear has no place where faith exists. So, I'll keep walking by faith.

Soul Concerts and Heart Ache

2010-10-01T19:02:00.000-07:00

A bit of advice: When the guy that you've been in and out of love with for years comes to town, don't go to an R&B concert. Especially, when you know that you've danced around in your room singing several of the artist's ballads with him in mind.

Why? Because unrequited love hurts even more when one of your favorite artists is singing your song, live.

Why? Because it's really effing confusing when a song that you'd designated for him, suddenly reminds you of the guy you didn't think you liked that much.

Why? Because when the physical and emotional distance between the two of you is beyond thick, and a woman is on stage killing you softly, you can't enjoy the show fully. Too many memories, too much confusion, tons of whatifs, and holding back tears takes too much energy.

Word to hindsight.

When the phone rang I squealed. It was the type of school girl oh my gosh i can't believe he of all people has my number and is actually calling me squeal that I would never admit to doing in real life. But for the sake of accuracy and blogging I will admit, I squealed. (Ask me in person and I will deny.) Joy is what it was. No one can get that type of response from me, except him. I laugh every time.

What are you doing?
Getting ready to hit farmers market. What's up?
I'm here for the day.
Ahh, you have to come over.
But you're about to leave.
Oh no, we will figure this out.

He comes over. Gives me a hug. Hugs my sister. And then sits in my living room and watches football with my parents while I go back to my room. Once My Boy gets there and we all head to Farmers Market, but in separate cars because My Boy is going straight to the concert and I haven't made up my mind yet. I want to know why he's in town. I want to know why it's only for a day. But I don't want to ask. I wonder if I should apologize for the way I stopped calling him. True, I'd already apologized, told him how I felt like shit for abandoning him, and had a complete meltdown right before an editorial meeting. But that was all via text messing. And texting doesn't count.

I decide on small talk. So small I don't remember what was said. It's like that the whole day. Still, I don't actually want to leave him. Tons of questions floating in my head, but I refuse to ask any of them. I don't want to cause drama. I just want to enjoy the music. I just want to sit back and feel adored and protected and like everything is okay...Until I realize it doesn't feel like that anymore.

Something has changed. It's changed between us and I want to cry. I think the silence has become too much. I think my constantly falling when I'm not supposed to has taken a toll. I think never actually telling him how hurt I was is getting to me. Never mentioning her or it is becoming a problem. I try to block it all out. But I start thinking about Mr. Cooper and how much he would have enjoyed the show. Then I freeze.

This isn't right. All I ever want is for him to be here and he's here and I'm thinking about Mr. Cooper.

Under the Influence

2010-09-20T10:08:00.002-07:00

Dim lights. Live music. Free Henny.

I'm talking to one of my boys about a guy and he sits his class down.
"I don't agree."
The statement is calm but stern. Very big brother giving little sister advice that he knows she won't take, but he gives because it's his duty and his truth.
"What do you mean you don't agree?" I ask.
I really value his opinion. His statement worries me. What does he know that I don't? What am I missing? Is it just the liquor talking? If so, I have to figure out if the Henny is truth serum, or if dude is just talking out the side of his neck. He shakes his head and tells me to follow him to the outdoor seating area so we can chat. Long story short: He actually likes dude and just doesn't want me to get hurt. As a reformed player, he doesn't trust dudes. As a close friend, he's afraid that I'll settle instead of being patient enough to wait on my One.

But if there was no conversation?

At this point in my life I know to ask questions. I know that no one is objective. I know that advice passes through a filter of baggage before it gets to me. I recognize that people only know what I tell them and what they think they see. I also know that while there are similarities, everyone's situation is unique because no two people are exactly the same.

Taking advice is a serious balancing act.

Lately, I've been hyper aware of how I let other people influence my decisions, especially when it comes to my dating life. I'm pretty open, I know a lot of people, and spill hella bits and pieces on this site, which means folks weigh in. A lot. I enjoy it. I like knowing what people think. I enjoy seeing other perspectives. I like debating the "facts" of different situations. I learn a lot through my interactions with other people. But I have to be cautious of not letting other people dictate who I am, what I want, or how I feel. This goes for the homies and "experts" alike.

When I was in high school He's Just Not that Into You came out. After reading that book, every comment about the boys we dated and how to interpret there actions was prefaced with "Well, Greg says..." A couple of years ago, I noticed women referring to Steve Harvey's Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man like it was scripture. There were good points in the books, just like the homies bring up good points. However, what I've noticed is that more often than not, folks are running to these outside sources to discuss, filter, and process more than they are consulting the two who matter most: self and romantic interest/partner.

How do you filter advice? Who do you listen to most? Who do you turn to first? Whose influence are you under?

Lovers and Friends

2010-09-16T21:00:00.002-07:00

I.

"So, how was breakfast?" I didn't care about the food or even where they went. I was being nosy. I wanted to know if the morning rendezvous had potential to be something else.
"It was cool," My Boy replied.
"Uh, what does that mean? Did you get any cool vibes?"
"I don't know," he responded. "It's weird. She's cute. She's nice. But, our conversation seemed more like friend stuff."
And with that he launched into the details, there was something about how much weight she'd gained in the last year and what she was doing to work it off. Clearly friend convo, because what girl tells a guy she's interested in about how quickly she gains weight? Especially while enjoying a full plate of food... Right, friend zone.
"It's weird how quickly we have to decide the friend thing though," he continues. "Like you kind of have to know instantly if you want to be just friends because you present a different side when you're interested."

Shit.

I'd just had a convo with a guy I really like about the weight I gained in college. And we had the convo over dinner. Shit. I thought it was okay to say it. I've lost the weight, doesn't that mean something? I mean, I was explaining why the food I cook is so healthy. Salmon, brown rice, grilled asparagus, with a bit of white wine isn't really what you cook to win a man over, but.... aw fuggg. Did me talking about that stuff make him think I wanted him to be in the friend zone?

II.

"My mother is a completely different person around my father," she states. No real emotion to it, just fact.

Blank stare on my part.

"Well, when she's with her girlfriends, she's hilarious. She's kinda loud. Really fun. Has more than one glass of wine, which is the most I've ever seen her drink around my dad. She's really a completely different person. I think I like her more when he's not around."

I'm lost. My mother does the same things all of the time, doesn't matter if Pops is present or not. Moms says Pops loves her and all of her. Their best friends. Ain't no code switching.

III.

I've been informed that I get stuck in the friend zone so often because I'm always acting like the homie. So, the crew gathers in the living room to give me some...advice. The rules are as follows:

1. No Jay-Z quotes.
2. Actually, try to fall back from the rap thing all together.
3. No messy food.
4. No Long Islands.
5. Not so much intellectual ish.
6. Don't curse so much.
7. Don't mention too many parties.
8. Giggle.

Uhhh. Jay's my favorite. I listen to rap more than anything else. I like messy food. Long Islands are my go to drink, I like them and they work. I graduated from Northwestern with a degree in journalism and African American Studies, grew up in the land of the Black Panthers, and read Paulo Freire as a freshmen in high school. GTFOH. My mother and I were sailors in our past lives. At the time I lived in NY and worked at a major magazine. And now I'm hitting tons of events for 38th Notes. Uhh, yeah, no. And GIGGLE???? Ha.

Sigh.

Reality Check:

I call my friends, associates, and first time intros boo, babe, love, darling etc. Guys I'm interested in? Uh, not so much. I will drop everything if the homie or someone I'm cool with asks for something. The guy I'm interested in? Uh, not so much. There are homies I will talk to on gchat and twitter, then turn around and call even though I'm going to see them later that night. Guys I'm interested in? Uh, not so much. Wanna kick it with the homie? I call ASAP. Wanna kick it with the interest? Uh, about that call...

Fugggg. Who made this ish up?
If you are looking for someone you can spend the rest of your life with, or a person you can be around a lot for the time being, shouldn't you be able to be all of you all of the time? Doesn't it take too much energy to constantly switch identities? Don't you want your lover to also be your friend?

Two Steps Forward

2010-09-12T21:57:00.003-07:00

"What are you afraid of?"

I look up.

"You're really going to make me say it?"

His none response is a clear yes.

I sigh.

"I'm afraid of being hurt."

I'm sitting in My Boy's room. He's on the bed with his laptop going through VMA clips. I'm sitting in the middle of the floor with a cup of raspberry tea. "Counseling time," I say. We're chatting about my modus operandi: Two steps forward, one step backward. And that's when he hit me with the question.

See, when I like someone, I search for reasons not to like them. I'm pretty good at cutting off anything that becomes too much of a challenge. My ability to completely dead things as soon as I think someone is getting close enough that their actions could possibly hurt me, is quite impressive. It's a problem. But it's a problem that I haven't had a strong enough urge to tackle until recently. I suppose certain people can do that to you. And so I work on it. I do things I wouldn't normally do. But nothing too out of the ordinary. Still holding back. Still saving face. Still practicing self-sabotage?

What I realized during that convo today is how much I'm limiting myself,
draining my energy, and making me unhappy. In all my attempts to fight fear, be bold, and do whatever I feel in all areas of my life, I failed to apply it in the heart realm. I'm not promising anything revolutionary. Just saying it's time that I allow myself the freedom of enjoying my emotions and indulging my urges instead of trying to rationalize and control everything. I'm better than I was, but not as good as I can be. So, I'm going to try a little harder.

Fighting myself is not fun.

Time Suck: Facebook, Twitter, and Relationships?

2010-09-03T06:22:00.002-07:00

"...I just know when I'm gettin' one the other's getting away..." - Ye, "This Way"

I have a list of people I need to call, see, and email. It's likely that I won't get to them. Why? Because even though they are some of the closest folks to me, our pending conversations have nothing to with work. It's the type of truth that makes me feel effed up even typing it. Luckily, these folks understand how busy I am write now. They know that I'm trying to establish my career. They get that I don't have the capacity. Or do they?

In my mind they get it. In my mind they get it more than a significant other would. Now, if I don't really know that my platonic friends and family really get my push, then clearly I don't really think a boyfriend would. I know the need to be detached and completely immersed in working and reaching goals another part of the appeal of dating. If I don't call you back, I don't have to feel bad or explain why because technically, you don't have the right to trip or get all butt hurt about the situation. And again, just typing that I feel some kind of way, but I know I'm not alone in my thinking. Whenever I'm involved in conversations with people who are "focused," "grinding," or "hustling," their top time suckers that are keeping them from being the best at their chosen pursuit are Facebook, Twitter, and relationships.

It's crazy how much we see other people as distractions.

Maintaining any sort of relationship beyond surface, beyond partying, beyond networking is difficult when you are in "grind mode." Lunch dates are missed, phone calls never made, and gchat and (insert chosen mode of instant communication) substitutes phone conversations and face to face interaction to the point that can go months without hearing the voices of your closest friends.

I'm sure that one of my obsessions about being away from home is my ability to disconnect. Yes, I have friends in other places but I don't necessarily have to worry about how my lifestyle impacts them. Even though my family is extremely supportive, the fact that I'm rarely home for dinner bothers me. Not being home in time for dinner because I have a meeting and then am on my way to the club afterward seems pretty selfish at times. Not being able to do certain things with my little sister because of time conflicts with work or events or even me just finally having personal space to breathe, bothers me. If I wasn't here, I wouldn't feel so bad because I'd have distance as an excuse.

All that to say, I feel like I'm constantly making a choice. I rationalize my choices. I believe that you can have it all, but only to an extent. It never actually balances out. You just hope folks understand like they say they do, and that you don't get too caught up to where you can't cut off the hustle or switch gears when needed.

Unappreciated

2010-08-26T21:04:00.016-07:00

As Theo walked me to my car, I noticed that he always walked on the outside. I smiled to myself. Ahh a gentlemen. Maybe my smile looked like something else because he stared to explain why. "Yeah, I noticed it the first time and thought 'Yay, a gentlemen.'" I wasn't sure how to read his facial expression. Maybe when I say "yay" it throws people off. Maybe "yay" is something you type and text but not say, hmm. He interrupted my thoughts, "Most women these days don't appreciate a gentlemen." "Maybe they just haven't learned how to recognize one yet," I said and then tried to change the subject.

Fast forward a week or so and I have a twitter exchange with a few of the homies after one stated:

"If u like and want a chick now a days. Never say or show it. Show the attention to another chick."

Then we did a back and forth about the games people play. The ability to recognize good men and women. Women only liking the bad guys. Men only not giving the good girls a chance. You know, the usual. Any who, it reminded me that I hadn't shared this song on my blog yet. Love the song and tons of dudes seem to be able to relate. I'm encountering more and more men who feel that there efforts to be nice, respectful, good, etc. are unappreciated. So much so that they question if they should even try. Le sigh. I'm crossing my fingers that they don't really mean it.

J. Myers - Cool as A Fan (song starts 1:30)

Another comment that stuck out was: "A woman doesn't wise up to a good man until her bad man converts over."

Made me think of this Jilly song.

Jill Scott - Can't Explain (42nd St Happenstance)

No Comparison

2010-08-24T21:04:00.024-07:00

"This is like last year, only you are handling it a lot better." My Boy was right on both accounts. Last summer there was Mr. Washington. There was also another girl (as to be expected when people are not a couple). And while I handled it extremely well on the surface, it effed with my ego. The fact that she existed was whatever. But when she started popping up in FB pictures that was something else.

I generated a list of all the things she was that I wasn't. She was skinnier (probably the only thing I knew for sure). She was more lady-like. She didn't quote rap songs. She wasn't loud. She didn't drink. She didn't curse. She went to church every Sunday. She was the type you marry. I was the type you kick it with and then transition to good friend, never anything more. I was having an FML moment.

Let me state clearly, I didn't know ish about ol girl. But I was quick to compare. She was my insecurities in the flesh. I tried to figure out all of the ways I was doper than her. All of the things that would make him foolish for choosing her instead of me.

These days my attitude is she ain't me and I ain't her. Not in a either is better than the other, just that there is no comparison. Not to say that I don't have my insecurities. But my love of self outweighs my dislike. It only works because I'm happier with me these days. I feel like I am who I am and the person I end up with will accept, appreciate, and want me as I am. So why worry about the next chick? She and I are not the same and folks must choose who fits them. I'll admit that I do have a competitive side that perks up a bit, but then I just end up competing with myself cuz I don't know her life and I don't know their interactions.

In all I respond differently these days because I'm good with me.

Life is easier this way.

It took a while to go from constantly comparing to feeling like I had no regrets and there is no comparison.

But I'm here (for now).

Que Sera, Sera.

On Being Real

2010-08-22T22:44:00.002-07:00

"I deal with the real. So if it's artificial, let it be." – Black Thought, "You Got Me"

The conversation of who is real and who isn't, who is honest and who isn't, who knows how to communicate and who doesn't has been happening quite frequently these days. And not just in terms of romantic type relationships, but across the board. After posting You, Me, Him and Her (Small Town Ish), I got a number of responses via twitter, text, and gchat. The majority of the comments had something to do with the communication/honesty piece or how I was able to see Mr. Cooper with someone else and not feel some kind of way (I'll tackle the latter in Wednesday's post).

The most quoted part:
"It could have gone a number of ways, but thanks to proper communication and honesty, ish wasn't ugly. It was just real." - Moi

Granted, reality is about perception and what you see as real can be completely fake to the next person. But this is what I know about reality, honesty, and communication:
1. You can't be honest/ keep it 100 with people if you are lying to yourself.
2. You can't communicate your wants, needs, desires effectively with another person if you are not clear on what they are.
3. You damn sure can't get what you want out of a situation if you are always acting like you don't want what you want.

I spend a lot of time reflecting and trying to figure out how I feel about certain situations. I find that I am happiest when I am clear on what I want or confident in my uncertainty. It's taken me a while to get there and I still am not where I'd like to be. There are gaps between who I was, who I am, who I want to be, who I think I should be, and who I think other people want me to be. Too often I operate out of every space except for who I am at this very moment. Those are the times when things fall apart. And even though I know ish goes bad when respond based on everything other than how I really feel, I still do it. Usually, because I am too worried and insecure about how others will perceive me and what it will all mean. It doesn't happen as much as it used to, but it is still a struggle.

Being real requires accepting how you feel and who you are without shame, even when it's frowned upon or seen as illogical. You have to know yourself and be fine with you before you can ever really be real. As I irritated as I become with perceived fakeness, I've realized that being "real" takes practice. It takes commitment. It takes dedication. And everyone doesn't have the capacity.

Thoughts?

Men Are Like Dresses (Word to Belle)

2010-08-19T21:04:00.006-07:00

Scene 1:
Me: Dating is fine. But titles are serious. I'm not gonna make somebody my "boyfriend" if I'm still doing whatever. Why link myself with someone if I have no intention of being with them for real?
Girl: It's not like you're getting engaged. It's just a boyfriend.
Me: Uh, yeah, that's not how I work.
Boy: Well you realize that there are certain things you won't know about people until you're in a relationship with them, right?
Me: You realize I can figure out a lot before I get into a relationship with someone, right?

Scene 2:
Friend: He's been around for a few months, why aren't you guys an item yet.
Me: Even though it's been a few months, we haven't even spent enough time for me to know whether I would actually want to be an item with him. I like him, but there is still a lot to learn before I can decide. So, yeah, don't expect that talk to happen anytime soon.

These convos happen frequently. I'm never really sure how to make people understand where I'm coming from. I don't really try anymore. I state my case if they get it yay, if they don't oh well.

I swear I feel like I'm in middle school sometimes. People are hella quick to "go together." But anyone who has been in a relationship or at least seen a good number of them knows that relationships take work. Folks also know that break-ups can be crazy. I honestly don't think people take relationships as seriously as they should. Not to say that everyone who attaches quickly is a fool, I know a few awesome relationships that were almost instant. Exceptions and rules.

Anyway, the other day I was reading Belle's formspring and this popped up:

You say people shouldn't rush into relationships, but don't you think you can get to know a person while IN one? Isn't a "relationship" still the getting to know you phase? If you don't like what you see you can just break up.

you can. but aren't break ups messy. shouldn't we try to avoid the drama and time poorly spent as much as possible? think of it like shopping for a dress. I always try on clothes at the store because it's a headache to buy it, take it home, then find out it doesn't fit and then have to take it back. i could have just saved myself the hassle, spent the time to see if the thing fit and if it did, then purchased it.

when i know it fits, i take it home to try it on with accessories, shoes, hair, whatever. it might not always go with what i have. i may have to buy another pair of shoes, another piece of jewelry. that may be more effort or money than i am willing to spend. i may end up taking the dress back anyway. that happens sometimes too. not often though. usually, if i take the time to try it on, i keep the dress and wear for a few seasons.

you can gamble and just buy the dress and hope for the best, but that hasn't worked for me. i'll keep trying my dresses on first. the last piece i bought. classic. i wear it (out) as often as I can.

and yes. i just compared men to dresses. they compare us to cars. we're even.

LOL.

I effing love her.

You, Me, Her, and Him (Small Town Ish)

2010-08-17T21:04:00.003-07:00

...'Cause I just seen my ex girl, standing with my next girl, standing with the one that I'm effing right now. And ish can weird, unless they all down. And so I stay clear, we from a small town. - Drake, "Say What's Real"

I am a firm believer in the roster. My mother's dating advice has always been "have one for each thing until you find one that does everything" and "you're single so act like it." Some call it dating like a man. People may interpret those sayings to mean a number of things, but it comes down to having options. Most dating coaches advise that women date three men or so at a time as to not get prematurely caught and get your feelings crushed by over investing in someone who is not yours.

I'm all for it, but there are certain things that make building a roster quite complicated. Example: living in a small town. Now you can classify "small" however you'd like, but I live in Oakland and everyone knows everyone. And if they don't know them yet, they will. Blame social networking, blame everyone liking the same events, blame life. It is what it is.

Funny I posted "No Regrets," made a reference to Drake's "Say What's Real," and then lived the small town ish. I walked in the lounge. Saw a guy. Was really excited to see him. I've been feeling him for a minute. Hugs, flirting, yay! I turn around and see Mr. Cooper on a date. The music cues in my head:

A buddy is a buddy that don't be complaining when his or her buddy ain't the buddy you came with.

Damn that Musiq Soulchild.

So yeah, we're there same place with interacting with different people. It could have gone a number of ways, but thanks to proper communication and honesty, ish wasn't ugly. It was just real. But this whole everybody attends the same events is why I don't have a proper roster. (Note: I haven't put in the energy to get other events in other cities/circles. So this is more of an observation than a complaint.) This is also why I'm not hella touchy in public places. (Let there be no marking of territory until exclusivity has been determined and there is mutual agreement.) I try my best to make sure folks don't each other and even when they don't there is no guarantee that paths won't cross. You have to have thick skin to date in a small town. Sorta of like dating within your industry, or dating within the Black community at a predominately white institution. So much damn overlap...

And this is why it's good to have a good amount of Jay lyrics stored up:

Plus she can't front just peep how I run mines
ma, our time together is our time together, and uh
our time apart is our time apart
so love Jay with your mind girl and not your heart
and some day I slow down, but for now I get around

- Girls, Girls, Girls (Remix)

No Regrets

2010-08-15T21:04:00.001-07:00

At this point you know that I'm single. You may also know that I enjoy being single. What you may not know is I have a bit of a hang up about the fact that I'm never the girl the guy picks. At times it influences my actions, but I'm a lot better at keeping it in check than I used to be. The whole
"what if he likes one of the other chicks he is dating more?", is the type of what if I mentioned in "The One Way Upgrade." And yes never is not quite true, sometimes they pick me and I don't choose them. But whatever. Also, the perceived rejection usually happens before I have a chance to get truly, madly, deeply. But even when you don't really want someone, it kinda sucks when they don't want you. Call it illogical. Call it ego. Call it emotional. It's real.

The crazy thing is, that despite my issue with not being the girl he picked, I don't regret anything. As time has gone on I've found out some of the guys are cheaters and some are way too effed up emotionally and mentally to be a stable force in my life. Then there are the ones who are amazing boyfriends to their current girlfriends. But it's clear that they would not have been amazing boyfriends for me. We just don't fit. No matter how much I may have adored them in the past we didn't fit. They are not my "one" and that's why it didn't work. I can say that at this point in my life, I don't have a "one that got away."

Example: Months ago I ran into Lil Brother and his girlfriend. I smiled and gave hugs. Not in a fake way. It's just that I'd moved on. Recently Ol Girl and I had a Facebook exchange addressing that whole overlap issue. Word to Drake about that small town ish. Word to Disney about the small world thing. After our exchange, I went back through the archives to remind myself of how it all went down. And in the end he just wasn't for me. I was, and still am, fine with that.

Same goes for Peanut, Him, Mr. Washington, and all the others I have and haven't blogged about in the past few years.

We weren't meant. Not in that space. Not in that time.

I've learned from each situation.

I'm good.

Je ne regrette rien.

The One-Way Upgrade

2010-08-12T10:38:00.000-07:00

What ifs ruin ish.

I'm sure of it. Why? Because most of the what ifs I hear folks talking about assume the worst and rob you of the ability to live in the here and now. How can you enjoy anything if you are constantly worrying about what's next? And if you are consumed by the way things may not work, aren't you just speaking the bad into existence? You start holding back, not being yourself, building unnecessary walls, etc.

The reoccurring what if that has consumed many women (myself included) is: What if I'm just making him better for the next chick?

Really, it's a classic tale. You like/love him for who he is. You don't trip too hard that he doesn't have all of his ish together (however you define having his ish together). You accept him as is, help him with whatever he needs. You become friend, lover, and confidant. You are patient, attentive, and everything you think he wants to be and then suddenly he's on to the next one. Turns out all of the time and energy you put in was for no effing reason and he's skipping down the street hand in hand with some random chick who wasn't even there through it all...

Ok. Step back. Breathe.

My usual response to that scenario (which is often posed as a hypothetical) is that you shouldn't be doing things to and for him because you want something out of it, but because you want to. But after a couple of "I'm not tryna upgrade him for the next chick to benefit" conversations this week, I think I have a new approach.

I will now answer the question with a question: If you are making him better for the next chick, isn't he making you better for the next dude?

If your answer is no, if you aren't learning anything at all, if you aren't enjoying yourself at all, if you aren't growing then um...

Step back. Think.

Contentment 101: Managing Expectations

2010-08-05T21:04:00.001-07:00

Around 5:30pm I rushed off to the gym. Not because I'm going hard about my workout routine (which I should), but because I was stressed. Same reason I hit the gym the day before. Sweat seems to be a bit of a cure-all. I'm convinced that I will spend tons of time at 24 as I work on developing a site, maintaining and expanding this blog, and a few other things. But when an hour of cardio only left me tired and still hella antsy, I realized that more important than getting to the gym, I'm going to have to learn to manage my expectations.

I've been off work for a little more than a week. When I think about it, I've been pretty productive. But when I look at my to do list, the number of items unchecked is a a bit depressing. I was reminded of how not on my shit I was by a gchat from My Boy. He'd connected with a writer that I'd been meaning to connect with. By "meaning to" I mean there's a draft email in my inbox, but I was trying to perfect my intro so it is still sitting there. Yeah, I was included in his connecting (he always looks out), but damn it I was supposed to do it! It's a simple thing, really. So not a big deal. But when you over think and are constantly "grinding", it's a big #FAIL.

Arg. The whole overachiever/perfectionist/must be the best/I will not loose thing will be the death of me! Honestly, it's a lot better than it used to be. I used to do waaaaay too much. Never satisfied. Never good enough. Then I got burnt out. From there I went to not giving a flying (you fill in the blank). But the thing about being celibate, is that it takes a lot of work. Almost as much work as doing too much. And so the search began to find a happy medium. Or maybe just a medium.

So here I am. I have to learn to manage expectations. But I'm not really sure how to that. Maybe, I'll dedicate a certain amount of time to each project and then stop when that time has expired. Or I'll start my list off with four things (that's a really good number, my favorite) and only add on once those things are done.

Do have a grip on your expectations? If so, how do you manage? If not, what are the issues?

Do You Have the Right to Complain?

2010-08-03T22:47:00.002-07:00

I'm a pretty active person. And by active I mean I go out a lot. Sometimes more than I care too. Once I get to the venue, I'm good. The hugs, drinks, hours of dancing are great. I'm entertained at the attempts to network despite the fact that the music is too loud to hear your own thoughts let alone the next person's name and occupation. But we do it anyway and it's all fun and games until that last song plays. Or maybe until after we hit the 24-hour diner to recap a night that we all just experienced together. The joys of being young and single!

But sometimes when I turn the key to enter a quiet house and empty bed I think: Fugggg this single ish is wack.

But can I really complain if this is the life I choose?

Um. No.

The chick who gets overly amped singing "I ain't trippin' on nothing, I'm sipping on something," in her best autotuned without autotune voice cannot turn around and trip. At least not for too long. Or visibly. While I'm quick to talk myself out of complaining about situations that I create and maintain, it makes me wonder when it's actually appropriate to complain. Logic would have me say never. There is always something you can do to change your situation if you want to, but eh, this is about life not logic. And you can't necessarily tell the friend that dials you up or asks you to coffee to complain about her drying eggs and spinster fate that she hasn't done enough to complain. Or can you?

Do you only have the right to complain after you've exhausted all possibilities? And what are those "possibilities"? Do you have to leave the house, smile, and pay compliments to every attractive man along the way before you can vent? Should a person sit down with a group of friends or therapist to hash out relationship issues before they are entitled to rant? Do you have to go on a set number of blind dates and try multiple online dating sites before your complaints are valid? At what point do you have the right to say that this single ish and the whole dating scene is for the birds?

And say you don't want to change your status, do you have the right to complain about the quality of people on the market if you in all your dopeness and glory are decidedly off the market? Like what's the point? If you're not looking, why do you care?

So yeah, a bunch of questions. These are the things that run through my head every time someone does the "woe is me I'm single and everyone of the opposite sex sucks" spiel. And every time I complain that no one has inspired me to change my status.

I really want to know what y'all think.

Life on My Own Terms

2010-08-02T09:26:00.002-07:00

"This is my way of life: do what I want, what I like." - London

The bar was full. Not to capacity, but pretty packed. We'd just drove to this new spot from a venue that was walking distance in Chucks but not so much in pumps. And while it wasn't an official ladies night, that's the hype we were on.

We had to toast.

There were a few options. We almost raised our glasses to a fun night out, then to good drinks and good people, but then it hit us and we decided to raise our shot glasses to success. Don Julio in one and and lime in the other we toasted: To success. No, scratch that. To success as we define it and living our lives on our terms.

It was the type of boost I needed going into my last week of work. Most folks knew I'd quit my job. They also knew that I wasn't looking for another. It's a hard thing for a person that has defined success according to the book of everyone except self. But I'd also told myself that I'd live my 24th year like I only had 24 hours to live. I also promised myself I would stop playing around and follow-through with my plans, goals, calling. The whole HereNow thing is so real to me. Realer than when I decided it would be my theme for this year.

When I hopped out the bed on a Wednesday morning and didn't have to go into an office, I was overcome with joy. I sat at my computer with my morning cup of Komodo Dragon and began typing away. When my room felt too restricting, I relocated to a cafe. I smiled big at the thought of writing all day. Then I started singing: Show off if you love what you do... It's lights, camera, action.

Now, if you've met me, follow me on Twitter, or you are my facebook friend, you know I quote rap songs a lot. I can't name any R&B songs off hand that motivate the hustle. ACTION by London is the exception. I absolutely freaking love this song. It's all about living the life you've dreamed of and loving it. It's an anthem.

I'm thinking my theme needs an addendum. It will now be: 24 like I've only got 24 (The HereNow) #ACTION. Because you can't just dream, you have to do.

Because the Men are Jaded Too

2010-07-29T16:24:00.001-07:00

If there is one thing I've learned from Twitter, it is that men have feelings too.

Sure, I knew this before tweets about "trifling" females flooded my timeline. But there is something about cyberspace that gives men more room to be expressive. As of late there have been more rants about women who don't know what they want and who screw over the nice guy than "all men are dogs" banter.
I've found myself trying to reassure the guys in my life that in due time he will find the woman who appreciates all that he does and all that he stands for... it's actually kind weird for me at times.

Why? Maybe at some point I started believing that men didn't have feelings. It's possible that with all of the emphasis on the wants, needs, complaints, and problems with single women, I failed to look at same areas for single men.

There are men who think women play too many games. There are fellas who complain about non-committal/ cheating females. There are men who want a wife and children, but not sure that there are ladies good enough for the titles and responsibilities.

Last night I was hanging with Mr. Cooper and some homies when we got on the subject of nice guys finishing last. It's a term I hate. I usually bring up my theory that while they don't always finish last, they are slow to start and that's where some of the issues come into play. In the middle of my explaining how and why I opt for the good ones, he stopped me. "You're one person," he said, "so while you may be different, I can give you example after example of women who don't think like you." I didn't have a response. What do you say to that? What can you say to that?

Later, I sent a text telling him not to be too jaded. The next day I found myself asking another young man not to be too jaded.

Now it seems I'm spending time trying make sure the men and the women in my life don't become damaged goods.

But I know it's not that simple.

I'm damaged too.

Being Friends with Women

2010-07-21T09:00:00.002-07:00

That's exactly why I don't fuck with females.

That was my first thought when the Roomy hit me up with some not so pleasant info. A "little sister" of mine had my name in her mouth. True she hadn't been my little sister since she did some shady ish in undergrad, but that fact that she was speaking ill still hurt. Years had passed and I figured that even tho we weren't close, we were still cool, at least cool enough not to talk shit about each other. I mean whenever I saw her she was really nice buddy buddy. But apparently it's all fake.

I was ready to rant and rave on some "bitches ain't shit," foolishness, but I stopped myself.

Growing up I was taught not to hang out with girls. They were messy and not to be trusted. They were more drama than they were worth. I held on to that thinking for a long time and kept most females further than arms length. But then I got to college and suddenly there were a bunch of girls I could truly call my friends. However, I just figured that my group of friends were the exception to the rule. And every time a female did something shady I reverted back to me stance: I don't really fuck with females.

But now I'm older. And while I'm still more likely to be seen chilling with a group of dudes, I've learned to appreciate women and the bonds of sisterhood a lot more. I am constantly inspired and amazed by the women I've come to know. Their passion, dedication, and loyalty are beautiful. As much as I advocate letting go of baggage with when it comes to the opposite sex, it's important to push the same letting go when it comes to relationships with women.

I wonder how different life would be if women valued other women more. Like truly embraced each other, worked to uplift and empower each other. What if women weren't so guarded with each other and respected ourselves the way we tell men they need to respect us? Surely it's a process and there's a lot we have to get through, but I feel the struggle is worth it.

Screwed up people are screwed up people. Just like your last dude's actions shouldn't ruin it for the next guy, don't let a messy chick block the blessing of having sisters.

And Now What?

2010-07-12T23:32:00.002-07:00

I'm not a "militant" person per se. I don't protest and I don't do rallies. I don't sign random petitions on the street. I don't write angry blogs about the system, "pigs", or injustice.

It's not that I don't care. I just refuse to speak passionately about issues without knowing the details. I refuse to shout from mountain tops about how screwed up something is if I am not doing anything to fix said problem. And I don't involve myself with "causes" that have no action plan attached.

I've been thinking long and hard about the Oscar Grant trial. Trying to figure out what I should say if anything. The more I think about the trial, the protests, the aftermath, the more pissed off I become. My anger is increasingly directed towards the people who were so vocal against the verdict and not because I agree with the verdict or side with Mershele.

I'm upset with people for only being angry one day. I'm upset with people who knew nothing about the case but appeared so enraged. I'm pissed at folks for using Oscar Grant's death as a reason for them to become pseudo-revolutionaries. I'm upset at the fact that people get on soapboxes about "the value of a black man's life" when a white cop is behind the gun, but say nothing at all when a black man pulls the trigger on another black man. I'm irritated with people who took to the streets on Thursday and won't say or do anything else until August 6, 2010.

But beyond being angry, I have questions. The biggest question: And Now What?

It is my hope that every person who took to the streets, who wrote an angry tweet or blog, and/or who yelled fuck the police moves beyond the symbolism and rhetoric to actually do something.

Never Scared?

2010-07-08T00:38:00.000-07:00

We stood on the balcony talking. About what? Relationships of course. He was giving me the rundown on his ever-changing love life and asking if mine had gained any momentum. My full update was the length of one tweet, no twitlonger.

I could have said more, but really didn't want to go there. The discussion made me nervous as we got into specifics. I danced around answers, directing the attention back to him. But then I admitted: It sounds good, but I'm not ready for all that ish.

His response: You are, you're just scared.

Uhh, scared? Nah.

But I didn't actually deny it, just sighed. On another night I would have debated with him for a bit, I'd been questioning what it meant to be "ready" (thanks AKeys and Drizzy) and having dreams involving all of the guys who'd "hurt" me. Maybe I was tiny bit scared. Bite-sized, maybe.

After a few days of thought, I've decided that we are both right. I am scared and thus not ready. I don't actually know how to be in a relationship. What if I'm an absolute failure at it? What happens if I'm not as secure with myself as I think I am. What if I find someone really dope, but jump in too soon and eff it all up? What if I'm not as dope as the person I fall for? Hell, I'm still scared of stupid ish like appearing "thirsty"?

Should I be worried about these things? No. Would I like to change and deal with these issues more? Yes.

I'm working on it. I'm aware. I've got a squad that calls me out. And I've had a couple of convos that challenge me to challenge myself.

Hopefully, I don't miss out while I'm preparing.

A Year Later

2010-07-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

During freshmen year I got a call from My Boy, he wasn't happy at all. He hated his school. He was ready to transfer. My response: You haven't been there long enough. You just have to find your niche. Give it time.

It took about a year.

Fresh off the plane from Midway, I hit Deltnic up in Harlem. Then I hit a party. And every other night we from that day on there was a guest list to get on a open bar we just had to check out. But at some point, I think when the events started to slow-up, I realized that I wasn't all that adjusted to NYC. I'd been running around with my Roomy, becoming friends with her friends, doing whatever she did, and didn't really have my own lane. It was actually a bit depressing. I started having doubts about my future in NYC. Work life was great and I was accomplishing my goals, but I wasn't really sure where I fit. Eventually, I got to know the city on my own terms. Figured out my favorite spots. Made a few friends. I was certain I could do the Big Apple thing.

It took about a year.

For The Fourth I hit up a homegirl's BBQ. I knew a lot of faces but still felt a bit out of place. I started thinking about how I'd spent Independence Day a few years prior. Being at The Taste with a crew and feeling so at home. Then I thought about being on a rooftop in Brooklyn and being so comfortable. For a second I wanted to go back, Chicago or New York, it didn't really matter. Then more friends came. And I started talking and vibing with folks I didn't know. I was feeling it. My wishes for another time and place faded. Around 10:30 I left the spot to hit a local lounge. More familiar faces. Friendly hellos and intros. I hit the dance floor feeling like this was my spot and these were my people and all was well in the world. Felt real comfortable. Felt a lot like home.

It's been about a year.

The Follow-Through

2010-06-29T21:01:00.002-07:00

I was going through old post and found "Dream Deferred." I realize that this time last year I was promising myself the same things.

I've been talking about recording my second poetry CD since the first one came out.
I have a poetry book that has yet to be completed.
There's a folder on my desktop full of "short stories" that are really just paragraphs I never add to and sentences I never complete.
Oh and there is also this blog. Ideas outnumber drafts and drafts outnumber posts.

I always say I will get on it. I will stop putting my dreams aside. I will focus on what is important to me. But eventually I start making excuses. These monuments of nothing build bridges that lead to nowhere and ultimately, I'm never successful at accomplishing the things I said I would.

I'm a busy person.
I shouldn't beat myself up.
There's a lot going on.
The "reasons" and "explanations" flow and soon I'm convinced that it's ok I didn't complete the task.

But today I got to thinking, maybe I'm just scared.
Folks can't shit on posts you never write.
No one can criticize an album that never came out.
A diet that you never started can't really count as failed weight loss plan.

I've accomplished a fair amount of things in 24 yrs. But what if I actually followed-through? Where would I be if I was a bit more focused? Had a little more dedication? Stopped punking out? What would you be doing if you decided not to go the safe route? If you hit the books instead of the club? If you spent as much time supporting yourself as you did others?

Let's find out.

Answering the Single Question

2010-06-28T23:31:00.001-07:00

I've thinking a lot about the "why are you single" question. Probably because I just got back from a wedding, I'll be in two weddings next year, and my older sister and her husband are having another kid. See when I share the good news, folks usually want an update from me. And the older I get/ the longer I go without a boyfriend, the more frequently people wonder out loud why a young woman such as myself has yet to be linked with a strapping young man. My answer is usually some variation of "because I haven't found anyone who makes me want to be unsingle" and if I'm really being a smart ass, "cuz I haven't found anyone worth giving up my freedom." All true. But a better answer probably: I haven't found anyone that I can be myself with.

But I'm not pointing fingers, I'm owning it.

There are some people who know me as a very serious person. Goal and task oriented, I get ish done. There are other people who know me as a bit of a space cadet. I zone. Can't make decisions.
I love being alone but I am quite social. I'm an adventurous homebody. Basically, I'm all over the place. And I love it. Yes, it can be annoying (I sometimes annoy myself), but really I think it's quite awesome. But I haven't always been so okay with being me. And truthfully, I'm not all the way there yet.

I've spent a lot of time only letting folks get to know pieces of me. And the list of reasons is long. Insecurity. Trying to be perfect. Always considering the rules. Wondering what he will think. Wondering what it all means. Fear of rejection and not being wifeable. Not wanting to be hurt again. On and on and on and on...

The older I get the less I care and the more honest I am with myself and those around me. With time I love myself and all of my layers, quirks, ticks, etc. more and more. Yes, it's hard to share them, but I'm much happier when I do. And in the process of loving and sharing, I learn what I want and what's important. I also recognize the truth in attracting who and what you are, or at least who and what you show people.

These days I think I'm closer to finding someone who is worth it because I'm a truer version of myself. Now how close am I ? Umm, no clue. And do these random realizations mean that suddenly your girl is ready to/looking to lock it down? Hell to the naw.

Just means I'm aware and I'm open to the possibilities.

I still stick to my theories on Organics and make No Promises.

I just felt like sharing.

The Move

2010-06-27T22:27:00.002-07:00

July 2009.

I got the first call while chilling in the park. I was tempted not to answer. I figured the call could wait and that it was probably something trivial. Maybe she saw a new Facebook picture of mine that she liked. But by the third ring, I decided to step away from the crew and take the call.

Mom's voice was off. Her chipper tone didn't sound genuine. I asked what was wrong. She almost said nothing, but then blurted out the reason for the call. "Your dad is in the hospital."

That was the first in a series of calls. The check-ins were shaky. I kept asking if I needed to come home and my mom kept saying no. Said she could handle it. Said he would be fine. Said for me to enjoy summer in New York and have fun. But then I got the call that changed everything: "Your dad is on life support."

I was silent. I didn't have the urge to cry because I could tell that she'd been crying and was trying to hold it together. Mom was holding it together for me and so I decided I would hold it together for her. I'm not sure what I said. My mind was racing. I had to figure out how to get back to Oakland. I didn't have a credit card, wasn't sure who to borrow money from, and rent was due.

July's rent was late.

I bought a one-way ticket. I didn't tell Mom because she would have tried to talk me out of it. She would have tried to make believe that everything was fine. Sort of how she kept trying to convince me that it wasn't really life support and that he just needed a little help breathing.

The hospital was painful.

We didn't have many visitors. Maybe folks couldn't take seeing the life of the party fighting death. Maybe they figured everything would work out fine in the end. Whatever the case was, the support system we'd built through the years was nonexistent.

For days I sat Pops' room holding Mom's hand and trying to say something cheerful. I talked to Pops because I believed he could hear me. I joked. I threatened him. I told him we needed him. I told him I loved him. Mom says I'm the reason he woke up. When I left he still wasn't quite on this side. Awake and attempting to speak he only knew who I was some of the time. And when he came too, he didn't remember that I'd been there.

I hopped on a plane back to NYC. Quit my dream job. Partied it up one last weekend in BK. And moved back to Oakland.

Home

2010-06-22T23:10:00.003-07:00

Home is a strange concept for me.

My first time feeling "homesick" I was in my hometown longing to go back to a place I'd lived for less than a year. The idea that "home is where the heart is" doesn't work for me. My heart connects to everything and nothing at all. I attach enough to survive but not enough to get trapped. I'm something like a rolling stone.

Now it's summer. And summer is when I move. In and out of dorms. Away to beach towns for magazine internships. Back to places where winter lasts forever. Off to big cities known for eating people alive. Back to the scene of my upbringing to help take care of the man who raised me. And now... I'm not sure if I'm coming or going. With only a few weeks left at work, I have options. The big question is if I should go back to NYC a try to pick up where left off. I thought relocating to Brooklyn (though I lived in Harlem, BK was my fave) would be the obvious option. But ish is a bit more complex.

My family is one place. My strongest friendships are no longer concentrated in one area, still they aren't near my family. And opportunities to thrive doing what I love are on the opposite side of the country. Choosing where to go feels like choosing what's most important, and I despise the thought of having to choose one over the other. At the same time, I don't believe that they are all equal. I'm feeling all sorts of torn.

If I stay it's not because I'm so in love with being here, it's because I'm tired of leaving. If I go it's because I've always felt freer away from here. Picking either option will cause me to question what I'm afraid of and what I'm running from.

I'll probably go with what seems most challenging: Being Still.

I've heard it helps you get answers and find peace.

Ruby x Very Smart Brothers: Relationship Q & A

2010-06-18T07:20:00.001-07:00

A few weeks back I wrote about the amazing Ruby Veridiano. She is still in the running to be A. Key's Head Blogger, and still turning out posts that you should read and COMMENT on.

The Lovely Ruby got a chance to do a Q & A with the men of Very Smart Brothas. Solid, blunt, humorous advice. There are few excerpts below, but check the entire post here.

Untitled from Ruby Veridiano on Vimeo.

Over the weekend, I had a girls night with the ladies getting "our toes done up with our fingernails matching", and I thought, my, this is the perfect setting for some girl talk. Since we deserve honest answers, I went on to ask the men of relationship blog, Very Smart Brothas (VSB), their opinion. Just think of The Champ and Panama Jackson as your really good guy friends who won't sugarcoat their advice, and make you LMAO at the same time. They'll tell you what you need to hear instead of what you want to hear, which is why I sought out their honesty. The ladies asked a lot of questions (some off camera), so this segment is only PART ONE of a two part post. Now let's get to it!

1.) With it being 2010, is it true that guys like it when women make the first move? And if so, to what extent (ie: being the first to approach, asking them for their number, being the first to call, etc)?
Champ: I realize that I'm a bit of a traditionalist, but I don't think it's in a woman's best interest to "bag" (romantically pursue) men. Why? Well, a woman making the bulk of the initial romantic moves usurps one of a mans most basic duties: to show a woman that he has enough balls to approach her...

2.) A lot of hot girls complain they don't get approached very often. Why are men intimidated by beautiful women, and what draws a guy to approach a woman? Champ: It's not that men are intimidated by beautiful women. Men are intimidated/turned-off by intimidating women, and this has nothing to do with looks and everything to do with demeanor, body language, and the way he sees her interact with others... I understand that many perfectly nice and attractive women have developed a certain perpetual public "ice-grillededness" to ward off rudeness, vagrants, and Kappa's...

5.) How Important is it for a girl to NOT be friends with her ex-boyfriends, and how important is it for a girl to state her relationship status on Facebook?

Panama Jackson: I think women are much better at maintaining friendships with ex-boyfriends than men are with ex-girlfriends. Women can genuinely keep the relationship platonic whereas a dude is probably always looking for a way to get back into those jeans...
Check out her entire post here and comment!

Thinking vs. Believing

2010-06-16T07:25:00.001-07:00

"It's one thing to think you can do this, it's another thing to actually believe."

I hadn't called him for a pep talk or to validate my decision. I called to set up studio time. I called to let him know I was finally ready to invest the type of energy and time I put into other people's dreams and projects into my own. I'd finally have time for my poetry album, my sites, my freelancing, and all of the et ceteras. Maybe he sensed some hesitation in my voice. Could he tell that everyone's questioning was starting to make me question myself?

When I put my notice in at work, I was happy. Yes, I was scared. But the joy of pursuing what I love outweighed doubts about my ability to be a successful journalist and writer. However, as I shared my decision with more people, doubt turned to fear and I was almost ready to tell my boss, "Never mind that letter I gave you." Almost.

It's not like I haven't made risky decisions before, in fact, the successes I've had are because I've made it my job to do the un-thinkable. I ditched the comforts of my hometown and more than adequate funding to go to J-School in the Midwest. I felt stagnant in Chi-City and moved to NYC with $200 in my account. When I'm unhappy I sulk, try to convince myself to stick it out, and tell myself this to shall pass. Then I snap to it and change ish. That's my process.

Chasing my bliss usually works out in my favor. That's why I thought it would work this time. But after conversations with folks who commended me for being brave in the same breath that they urged me to reconsider and be more realistic, belief was lacking.

Now I'm transitioning from thinking to believing.
It's not about them, it's about me.
This is not a hobby, this I what I do.
And when folks with good intentions tell me: You don't know what you're doing
I'll chuckle and respond: Sure I do.

Manhood and Money

2010-06-10T07:14:00.002-07:00

Yesterday, I was catching up the blogs and checked Until I Get Married. Reading "The Inconvenient True Confessions of a Broke Man," saddened me.

I started thinking about the link between unemployment rates of men in certain communities and absentee fathers. I remembered the heaviness in my Pops' demeanor when he realized he would be forced into retirement because of his health issues and money wouldn't be what it once was. I recalled the emotional stress my family experienced when he felt that he couldn't "fulfill his duties as a man." I wondered how many men were missing out on love, peace, and happiness because they were so concerned with their finances. After reading the post I wanted to roundup a bunch of men and let them know: I do not measure your manhood by bank account and worldly possessions. I'm cool, if you're cool, then we're cool. Word to Anthony Hamilton.

Yes, I know there are societal pressures for you to ball out of control. I'm quite aware that your role as a man has been to "protect and provide," but I think we should reexamine and redefine what that means. Sure, this is bigger than me, and I can't change how you feel about your finances or what you are comfortable with, but I wanted to say this anyway. No, I'm not being naive. While having the finer things in life would be great and being broke is stressful, your presence, your love, and your companionship are worth more.

That is all.

Cruising the Archives

2010-05-31T21:31:00.000-07:00

Today I'll be on the radio talking about men, women, relationships, and anything else that comes up. I am so excited and nervous as hell. I'm hoping it will all run smoothly because I'll be surrounded by homies. It should sound something like the random relationship conversations we have at any given moment. But surely the idea of an audience will change that a bit, plus there is a camera...

Anywho, I've been looking through the archives for possible topics and decided I should link to past posts. I figure these links will be good for folks new to the blog and for folks who want to join the discussion.

He Said, She Heard
Good Girls & Nice Guys (Part I)
The List
More Than a Resume
Defining Good
Trophy Material
Five Steps
#MyType
The Reach
Manhood and the Independent Woman

Check us out:
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Official Men's and Women's Corner
With Niema "Renaissance" Jordan and Jareem Gunter
Streets Is Talking Radio
12pm-3pm PST (we're on at 1pm)
http://www.ustream.tv/channel/streetsistalkingradio

Organics

2010-05-27T00:29:00.003-07:00

The text message:
I like being single.
I'm not opposed to relationships, but I'm not looking for one either.

I met Mr. Cooper months ago. I'd just spent about a week with "Him" and was still on a high from my visit to the Empire State. The club was dimly lit, as they usually are, and I was two-stepping with My Boy. I still notice dude. "A little chocolate something with a nice smile" is how I'd later describe him. There were a lot of guys that night, most of them were going hard about this club thing but Mr. Cooper was lowkey. I think that's why I noticed him. Anywho, fast forward a few months of nothing more than friendly conversation, then skip to random moment where some sort of interest is apparent, add a few weeks and we are at this text.

It's late. I've made friends with Bacardi. Had a great time out with the crew. And now I'm texting with someone I'm clearly feeling but have no intentions with beyond hanging out and getting to know him. He mentions something about being single and I jump at the moment to let it be known.

This is my truth. I'd never articulated my status to a dude before. There are times where I've been single and dating (and hella liking someone), yet unavailable. There have also been times where I was single and opposed to relationships. And of course there were times where I was single and looking.

It felt good to say. I've read before that I shouldn't say stuff like that. I've read before that I should have very strict rules and timelines or else I'll be a spinster/catlady. But I'm not worried about being a spinster. I don't care about the flipping statistics. I want to go out on dates. I want to chill and watch movies. I want to try new things. I want to have fun and not have to worry after the third phone conversation where this is going. My life is good. I'm in no hurry to change it. I'll worry about the relationship stuff when I get there. But only if it happens organically.

No Promises

2010-05-25T14:28:00.000-07:00

In an ideal world
It’s either black or white
In my world
I push this gray
‘Til it turns me blue
Never wanting to commit too soon
I wait for true colors to become visible

So let this serve as a warning:
I can’t make you any promises
I can only speak my truth
I’m not looking
Too busy living
I’ve abandoned having an end goal
And would rather enjoy the process

I am still finding myself
Can’t promise you
That the Neems you know now
Will be the me you wake-up to
Can’t tell you that I won’t catch feelings
Or guarantee they won’t fade as suddenly as they came

It’s likely that I’ll only stick around
As long as I don’t feel stuck
Give you everything
Until you start expecting it
Cuz I’m not a fan of being taken for granted
And requirements cause warm to run cold
No real explanation
Just does

I’m only certain that
I’ll be as honest as you allow me to be
Give what you’re willing to accept
And take what you offer

I’ll meet you where you are
But if I’m ready to go
I won’t force you to leave
Chalk it up to timing and
Progress to something more my pace

No promises
No pressure
What will be will be

Live Magically

2010-05-19T11:08:00.001-07:00

Our words create our universe. So, I really believe in our ability to live magically. Anything that we can dream of, anything that our hearts tell us to do, we have the power to achieve it. But it starts by us being able to articulate it, us being able to believe wholeheartedly and say "Yes, I can do this..."
- Ruby Veridiano, Candidate for Head Blogger of Iamsuperwoman.com

This morning I was extremely excited to have the day off. A day away from my 10 to 6 means more time to work. It's a feeling that most people in my circle know. We work and then we work some more. Depending on the industry even our clubbing and partying is about work. Some say they are grinding, others hustling, maybe even dream chasing, but nomenclature aside, we are all taking risks and trying to "live magically."

Recently I made a decision. While I can't get into the details just yet, I can say it is a bit risky. I'm letting go of some of my "security" (it's in quotes because I've learned that a lot of what we identify as secure isn't at all, just ask the folks you know who have been laid off), for chance to live out my dreams. It's a bit scary, but I've found that I grow the most when I step out of my comfort zone. But even with this year's motto being "24 Like I've Only Got 24", sometimes I need that extra push, a little encouragement. Today, that encouragement encouragement came from Ruby Veridiano and Janelle Monae.

A few days ago I posted a blog by Ruby and encouraged people to vote for her. Yesterday, the announcement went out that she is one of the top three candidates. I'm super excited. Oakland girl moves to New York and gets the opportunity of a lifetime, it's an amazing story. I've witness her growth and I am constantly inspired by her fearless living. I've watched her video over and over today. I've also been organizing my desk, thinking, writing, cleaning, and organizing again to The ArchAndroid.

I'm tryna get elevated and live magically. "Yes, I can do this..."

http://www.iamasuperwoman.com/videos/rveridano/2010/05/13/superpowers
http://www.iamasuperwoman.com/applicants
http://rubyisill.com/blog/

http://www.jmonae.com/

Change vs. Compromise

2010-05-14T10:10:00.001-07:00

When I walked in the house The Actress was watching Tough Love. I'm not big on television so this was yet another reality show that I'd heard whispers of but had never seen. She gave me a quick run down. Apparently there was some discussion on episode about who you are allowed to go out with when you are in a relationship. I must have been giving the blank stare because she began to break down what was appropriate and what wasn't.

Example: If you are in a relationship, you can't go out with a group of dudes.

I immediately took issue with the example. I'm always with dudes. I've acquired more female friends as I've gotten older but for the most part I rock with dudes. I'm not going to change my circle because I have a new title.

Well if you were in a relationship, could your dude go out with a group of females?

It seemed like a weird question. If I didn't like the idea of my dude being around hella females, why would date a dude who kicked it with hella females? Is his hanging out with chicks a new development? If he's my man should I really have to worry? I was confused.

I think I felt a slight side-eye. You know the "you say that ish now" type of side-eye. I get those a lot because I say stuff like, "who cares if he dances with next chick at the club" and "even if I'm in a relationship I should be able to take trips by myself for the weekend." Not even with my girls, like for real dolo. And as a person who is randomly silent, I envision my future partner as a person who will allow me to be in the same room as them and not require me to actually speak to them. Sometimes I just don't want to talk. My partner should be afforded the same luxury. I also don't think we are required to have the same circle or friends, nor do I want someone who is attached to my hip 24/7. I don't think it's cute, I think it's suffocating. (Go ahead give me the side-eye, I'll wait.)

Now, I realize that you can't really say what you would do in a certain situation until you are in said situation. But honestly, I think a lot of "relationship rules" people throw out are really "requests from insecure people."

Note: I'm single. I realize that my framework is that of a single woman. But to give it a bit more context, I know a lot of people who are happily committed. They manage to stay that way because they are never asked to sacrifice their identity to make their partner happy. I'll remain single til I find that.

I believe successful relationships are ones where the couple understands the importance of compromise but neither person is concerned with trying to change the other. What do you think?

The One He Settled For

2010-05-13T08:47:00.004-07:00

"She's a nice girl. She's wearing on me."

I didn't like the sound of it at all. There's nothing romantic about someone growing on you. I mean I like to think of myself as a pretty practical person. But just because I don't believe in fairy tales doesn't mean I believe in settling. He hadn't taken the plunge yet, but he was considering it. His tone sounded like settling. It was ugly. So not a fan.

He wasn't the first of my homies to say something like this. As much as there is a focus on whether or not women should "settle," I find a good number of dudes "settling." It usually a girl they have spent a lot of time with, she's usually a nice girl with a lot going for herself, and she really wants to be in a relationship. She really really really wants to be in a relationship. I'm never sure what she wants more, him or the relationship, but in any case she puts in tons of work to get that position. After warning her that he's not quite ready, her doing a really good job a playing wifey without any title at all, and an ultimatum or two, they become a couple because "she's a really good girl and she really wants this whole relationship thing to work."

Le sigh.

I'd hate to be the one he settled for. There's no joy in that. Not sure if the ladies know that dude settled. I assume they think of it more as they won their man, but eh, his hearts not really in it. It's actually a no win situation.

There's one girl who is always so happy when I see her with her boyfriend. She's always grinning the "oh my life is great and isn't he grand" grin. I always think of the other girl he was dating, the one he liked more, the one he actually put in work to get, the one that it didn't work with and so he committed to his current girl because she was "the girlfriend type." I can never manage to smile back at her.

This my dear friends is why I love the phrase: I don't chase 'em, I replace 'em.
It's not me trying to be a player and it's only part ego/ too much rap.
Trying to make someone love you is truly a waste of time.
Even when you think you win, you lose.
I'm not trying to wear anyone down.
I'd really hate to be that girl.
I've seen what happens to that girl.
The ish is never pretty.
I don't wish it on anyone.

Hence why I'm always flooding you with "let him be single" posts.

Ruby Veridiano: Super Woman

2010-05-12T11:48:00.000-07:00

I love Ruby. No, like really love her. If you met her, I'm sure you would feel the same. She's in the running to be Alicia Keys' head blogger. Please check her out, support her, and then cop her poetry book. She's ill.

http://iamasuperwoman.com/blogs/rveridano

Submitted by Ruby Veridiano on Tue, 05/11/2010 - 11:00

I wish we could know the truth about love at a young age. For many of us, we don’t learn to stomach the politics of love properly, our bellies housing the fullness of creation and life, but our hearts starving to fulfill the inevitable emptiness of someone else’s expectations. For these reasons, if I could, I would break bread with women who fearlessly give love to themselves and the world without apology: author bell hooks and civil rights activist Yuri Kochiyama. My third guest? A teenage version of my two-year old-niece Isabelle, who, in this metaphor, will be too young to understand love’s politic, but old enough to absorb the wisdom these women can offer.

See, my hope for Isabelle, is to grow up loving herself without fear. Loving ourselves fearlessly means striving to become our best selves without doubt or apprehension. As bell hooks often writes, many women become afraid to know and pursue their highest selves for fear that their success threatens their ability to find and receive love. In a society where power and success are equated to men, women at times, believe the misconception that they play supporting roles. Yet, as bell hooks writes, “Love is more present to women who know who they are, women who are fully self-actualized”. I wish for Isabelle to learn this truth, to understand that true love is the ability to feed our dreams without craving someone else's approval, and to feel full and whole by her audacity to achieve.

My other hope for Isabelle is to love her world enough to want to change it. Yuri Kochiyama dared to use her power as a voice of resistance and resilience, fighting injustice among legends like Malcolm X. I want Isabelle to understand that yes, the world is heartbreaking, but every woman possesses the kind of heart that can nurture anything into a beautiful existence. The most rewarding thing about being human is exercising our ability to build, support, and fight for each other. Yuri Kochiyama, though Japanese American, offered her relentless power to support the Civil Rights Movement in Harlem, demonstrating every woman’s power to build bridges between communities and create change.

Most of all, through bell and Yuri, my wish for Isabelle and for all young women, is to recognize that it is okay to feed and nourish the force behind their power without catering to anyone else. Their power to inspire, to give hope, to hold the world in their hands. We serve the world when we serve ourselves- it is the best way to know our love. And a good woman's love? My, my, like a good meal, it's the most fulfilling kind of gift to share.

*********
http://rubyisill.com/blog/
http://www.venuszine.com/articles/art_and_culture/culture/4410/Wearing_her_heart_on_the_page

Black Man Appreciation Day

2010-05-10T10:30:00.000-07:00

Last week @briannithepoet declared that May 10, 2010 would be Black Man Appreciation Day. I was immediately excited. It took me back to my college days when we spent hours prepping for the Tribute to Black Men and Tribute to Black Women shows. Despite what the beef we cooked up throughout the year, Tribute was the time when we told those around us how much we really cared and appreciated them. I commend Brianni on the declaration and the dinner she is putting together to honor the Black men in our area. I encourage you to let the Black men in your life know how much they mean to you.

To the Black men in my life who are reading this today or any other day: I appreciate you, your wisdom, and your strength. I see your works and your potential. I have faith in you. And I am here.

And now for a little music:

Always Greener

2010-04-30T10:55:00.001-07:00

The grass is always greener on the other side.

But you don't even like grass. Someone told you you should like grass, but really the ish is itchy, it makes your eyes water, and you have no strong desire to be near it. But you are supposed to like grass, even if you're more a clay dirt between your toes type of person. You are supposed to aspire to green grass, even though concrete suits you way better.

If you are lucky, you realize this sooner rather than later. For some it takes touching grass to remember that you're allergic and then you run. Others become so overwhelmed by the excitement of friends and family about "finally" getting to greener grass, and they completely ignore that they never wanted this ish in the first place.

Random? Maybe.

But as you may know one of my major goals this year is to be content. As of late I've a had a lot of time to think about the things I want in life. I've realized that there are things I really want, things I think I should want, things I've been told I should want, and things other people have that seem really cool so I should probably aspire to them as well. The biggest issue of course is that instead of focusing all of my attention on what I really want, I exert a ridiculous amount of energy the other things which leaves me exhausted, unsatisfied, and wondering what went wrong.

It's okay to not know the answer.
You can admire what someone else has and still recognize it's not for you.
If you aspire to be a certain person in the future, don't beat yourself up for not being that person at this moment.
Allow yourself room to grow.
Allow yourself to change your mind.
And if you like grass, do all you can to make your garden grow.
If you don't, let's not pretend.

And either way: Eff their grass.

Oh and smile.
Ha.

Guest Post: The Friendship Factor

2010-04-19T10:24:00.000-07:00

This post comes to you courtesy of my girl Cali. Make sure you comment!

I’m the type of person who has a lot of faith in my relationships. Friendship or otherwise, when I acknowledge that I’m your friend, I’m going to be there for you, remember your birthday and call you, and send you random text messages just to say I am thinking about you. No, this doesn’t make me best friends with everyone whom I befriend, but the word “friend” to me is a powerful word that signifies a relationship between two people who are kindred spirits in some way. The way I see it, God made lots of people who could have been placed in your life, but he made a special few who will be your friends for life. I hold those relationships very dear to me.

I even consider my ex-flings as friends, if they choose to maintain that title. One guy in particular started off as an acquaintance. We’ve know each other for a few years now, and for the first two years we just hung out when he was in town, and sent each other random text messages about funny occurrences we’d noticed. This past year had been different. We spent most of the summer together, going to events and the movies and dinners. We talked on the phone for hours on end, about the trivial and mundane or the important and emotional. We just sort of connected. I knew this guy liked me as more than a friend at this point, and I shared the same emotion for him.

Then the distance set in. Even when we were miles apart, he’d still call, and we’d still have long conversations. We’d still offer each other advice or an ear to complain to. When he came into town to visit in December, he spent most of his time with me. The movie tickets and dinners were things he paid for without question, not a gesture men often do without signaling that the relationship has moved beyond the “just friends” boundary line. We were damn near dating, and we told each other this was the case.

Then 2010 hit, and the phone calls stopped. There was no Facebook chatting going on because he doesn’t have a Facebook account. He also doesn’t have an AIM, Gchat or Skype. The only device he’s familiar with is the cellular telephone and the text messaging function, which he stopped using with me, for some reason. Perhaps he was busy. Perhaps another female was in the picture (which was fine by me because I wasn’t his girl anyway.) I just wanted to know where the lack of communication came from. So, I asked him about it, and the classic response of “you’re trippin’” was what he told me. I wanted to speak verbally about this because I knew things would get misconstrued via text message. “What’s the emergency? Just text me what you have to say,” he said. I was tripping because I was asking him to answer my phone call once every two or three months? I wasn’t calling or texting every day, and I made it very clear that I was just contacting him to check in, make sure he wasn’t dead, you know, that sort of thing. But, somehow I ended up “trippin” off of his decision to not contact me. And to this day I still don’t know what I did that was so wrong.

The worst part wasn’t that we’re not going to pursue a relationship any further. There are always more fish in the sea, as the saying goes. The worst part was that I lost a friend to reasons unannounced to me. I really cared for him as a person, for the things he said to me and the way he made me feel about myself. Like I said, I value my friendships, but I can’t get past those people who get angry with me for trying to be a friend. Communication is something that’s really important in friendships and relationships, and clearly dude didn’t want to talk. And now, after having invested time and energy into building a friendship with someone who I once had feelings for, I’m left to pick up the pieces of a friendship that was lost, all because he preferred to text message me instead of have a real conversation with me.

For a while I thought the key to maintaining my friendships was to value them less, so that I won’t be so disappointed when people let me down or failed to reciprocate good treatment. Then, I realized that people (even my friends) are damaged, and I’m not going to let myself be damaged because of it. My skill or talent or God-given ability is to be a really good friend to those who are willing to befriend me. I can’t go on and let the actions of others deter me from doing what I was put here to do, especially with regard to my relationships with people.

But how do you get over it? When you spend the time to care for someone and ask about them and show them love or affection or just simple attention, how are you supposed to just let that go? I haven’t figured that part out yet. My true friends (most of them females) say, “just get over him” or “let him go” or “onto the next one.” But, we all know it isn’t that easy. All I wanted was to keep my friendship with someone who I cared about, romantically or otherwise.

A band-aid and Neosporin ain’t gonna cure this one. Lost friendship cuts deep.

He Said, She Heard

2010-04-15T21:01:00.002-07:00

I was waiting for the newest issue of ESSENCE to arrive because I heard that Relationships Editor Demetria Lucas (Belle Woods in the blogosphere) did a group discussion with comedian Finesse and a few singles. I was expecting a bit of tomfoolery and I'm sure they cut some foolishness for print space. Anyway, this is one part that jumped out:

Demetria: Do you think men and women have trouble communicating?
Mawuli: Absolutely. I can tell a woman, "I do not wan to be with you. I just want to sleep with you." And she will hear, I got a chance.
Finesse: A lot of women will say, "I'm not into casual sex." But they continue to hang out. And so that one night, when something happens, women are like, Wow, we must be taking this relationship to another level. And the guy's thinking, She finally gave in. Now, where are my shoes?
Quiana: We have these rays of hope that we just ride out on into nowhere land.

In other words, we don't listen. It's funny because the typical complaint is that men are poor communicators. But lately some of my boys have been arguing the reverse. And while I defend the ladies on every account I can, I have to admit that they too have a point. I've heard time and time again that men don't listen and that they never want to talk or discuss things. Hmm. Maybe, but when they talk do you listen? No, like really listen, or do you hear what you want to hear and ride the "rays of hope"?

"Yes," you say, but I don't believe you you need more people. This is not an attack, I just believe in the occasional reality check and I've seen "situations" and "arrangements" go bad one too many times. I know it's very hard to remember to listen to what is being said to you. We have number of sayings, scriptures, and romantic comedies that allow us to believe that we can work hard enough, he doesn't know what he wants, or things will soon change. And since there are folks that lie about feeling you and wanting to be you with you in order to get what they want, it's not hard to convince yourself that people don't mean what they say when it comes to not wanting to be in a relationship. Eh, don't play yourself. You can't make someone love you or pressure a man into commitment. If he is Single and Enjoying It, let him. If he says he doesn't want a relationship believe him. And if by chance you feel that jones come down despite your original agreement, say something. It is okay to ask for a clarification and you can discuss your needs without offering ultimatums (I'm not big on those). Get the facts and decide if you want to keep it moving. No, it's not black and white and yes, feelings get involved, but after the rules are laid out you are responsible for playing by them. Maybe you end it, maybe you pull back, maybe you add someone new to the mix (I mean you're single, act like it), but whatever you do listen. He means what he said.

The Willing Side Chick

2010-04-13T21:01:00.001-07:00

It was late but I was too caffeinated to sleep and too restless to write. To my surprise Tariq was visible in my friends list. In the past year since I've seen him, I don't think we've ever been on yahoo messenger at the same time. I dropped him a quick line. It was a simple "hey, you're alive hope all is well" and then I switched tabs to continue my convo. A while later Tariq's tab showed that he'd replied. "Hey Sexy," he said. Hmmm. I wondered if this would be another one of the pointless flirting sessions. I find that dudes from the past spring up, often out of boredom, to play a game of "Do I still have her?" Depending on my mood, I might entertain them. But since his random pop-ins had stopped months ago, I decided to make anything of his using the "S" word and started with the small talk. I was half paying attention when I typed my automatic "what's up on your end?" His response: Not much, married with a son now. My mind calculated: I saw him a year ago, pregnancies last 9 months and it's not just he had a baby he's married too so that means...I typed "congrats!" Definitely wasn't making anything of that whole "sexy" thing. More small talk. Then small talk drifted to requests for trips and attempts at rekindling what we had. Um, did he not notice that he'd already told me he was married with a kid? WTF? After an acknowledgment that yeah those were good times, a nonchalant "maybe next lifetime," and an attempt to move on I had to out right remind him that he was in a relationship. The convo was over.

Alright, so let us reflect:

1. It's been 12 months and he's managed to acquire a wife and a whole baby.
2. The sting of past flings being wifed up was officially numbed as soon as he tried to pop at me.
3. Now the question: Why did he think this was ok?

No really, why did he think this was okay. You tell me about your wife and kid and then I'm supposed to say "oh I see, yeah you can come to Cali"? Yes I am single, but I am not thirsty. This is not Waiting to Exhale and I am not Savannah.

I figure dudes try b.s. because at some point in time in works on somebody. Is it really that hard not to eff a man that belongs to someone else? Do women really believe wholeheartedly in a drought? To be real after I signed off I wondered if ending the conversation was enough, I felt light-weight guilty for not blasting him about it. Have I ever wanted a taken man? Yes. To lie and play self-righteous wouldn't really do much for the discussion. I've been attracted to men who were attached, but I've never acted on it even when I had nothing but space and opportunity.

Is there something I'm not getting? Is there a time when it is okay to sleep with a man who you know is attached? Be honest. Are there exceptions to the rule? Is it her problem and not yours? Does the idea that "she's not taking care of home" or "he isn't happy" impact your decision? If he was "trapped" into marrying her because of the baby, or they are "only together for the kids" does that give a woman a pass to sleep with a married/taken man? You can comment anonymously if you need to. I really want to know. And yes, I know we need to hold men accountable. I'm not the "beat a chick up and let the dude slide" type of person, but that's not really what my post is about.

Soundtrack for Cheating

2010-04-11T21:01:00.004-07:00

The first few notes of Trigga's "Last Time" blared through the arena sound system and the women went crazy. I added an excited "Yus" to the fanfare. I only know Trey's singles so there were a few songs that were lost on me, but I was quite familiar with this one and if he wasn't gonna do "Wonder Woman," this would do. My Boy turned to me, "What is this?" Clearly he was more excited for Jeezy and really there for Jay like moi. "The Last Time," I said, preparing to do a sexy little two-step. "Huh?" "His single about having sex with his mistress for the last time cuz he doesn't want to get caught up." And with that statement I killed the joy of the song. Yes, I've always known what the song was about, but I block it out cuz, well it's Tremaine.

A lot of R&B and hip-hop faves are about taking someone's man, being the person on the side, cheating on someone you really love, etc. We know the songs, we love them, we buy them, and as a result they are constantly available for consumption.

My first cheating song was "Me and Mrs. Jones" by Billy Paul. My first songs from the female pov was "Woman to Woman" by Shirley Brown and then Barbara Mason's rebuttal, "From His Woman to You." The songs came out before I was born so really these were the joints that were sort of always around and I grew up singing cuz I liked "grow folks music" at an early age. I didn't really know what I was singing though. There was also Shirley Murdock's "As We Lay" which I was re-introduced to via Dana Harris and then Kelly Price.

As for tracks that hit the airwaves during my lifetime, KMEL played Mary and Lil Kim's "I Can Love You," so we sang that word for word. I remember Mokenstef's "He's Mine," too. I also remember a friend saying that it was stupid to sing songs about being cheated on and being okay with it. High school gave us Usher's "Confessions" and we loved every bit of it Parts 1 & 2 plus remixes.

In the past few years I've contemplated Badu's "Booty" ("I don't want him if he ain't made no arrangement with you" hmm) wondered how Jill went from feeling like she had something "Bedda at Home" to singing "Whenever You're Around." I was saddened by Jazmine Sullivan's "In Love with Another Man" and witnessed folks swoon over Pleasure P's "Boyfriend Number 2." And the folks singing Melanie Fionna's "It Kills Me," with all there heart and soul made me wish she'd taken a page out of Bey's book and rang the alarm or put his things "to the left to the left."

Yes, a lot of song references I know and there are plenty more where they came from. I'm wondering what would the radio sound like without songs that made cheating sound sexy? What if there wasn't tons of music that made you sympathize with the people who are in the wrong? Are these songs an indication that cheating has become normal and expected? If you are anti-cheating, is it hypocritical to sing along? Is it just music?

Let me know.

Living vs. Planning

2010-04-08T00:17:00.002-07:00

Sun said "Hov how you get so fly?" I said "From not being afraid to fall out the sky." - Shawn Carter, Beach Chair

I really wanted to move to New York. It was clear. Magazine writing meant moving to the Rotten Apple and doing my best impression of Andy from Devil Wears Prada. But then fear kicked in. I could not afford to live in NYC. I didn't have a place to stay. Oh and yeah, no job either. Chicago it was. I had free housing for the summer, a job I could stay with until I found something in the non-profit sector, and a strong network.

All was working out in the safe lane and then I went to a journalism conference. I hit a bunch of booths and there was a lot of "well, if you are ever in The City." Right, like that would happen. Only a fool would go there with nothing and just swing by someone's office because they said "if you are ever in the City." I went back to life in the safe lane.

But then I got the nagging "what if" feeling. I went to church, the sermon was about stepping out on faith. I called a friend asked if I could crash on her parents' couch. They said yes. I booked a one-way ticket for the following weekend and quit my job. Within a month I was an EA at one of my fave magazines.

Why is this important now? Because my BFF is moving to LA to pursue her dream of acting, but not everyone is as amped about the move as I am. I say she should go for it and go full-force. Others prefer a more practical approach. While I am an avid planner of activities, life is quite different. I believe in taking risks, walking on faith, being "foolish." Yes, you can get somewhere by following all of the rules and only making "logical" decisions, but not as far as you can when you push yourself beyond boundaries and comfort zones. Sometimes your opportunity doesn't come to you, you have to go to it. Maybe things aren't working out where you are because it's not where you are supposed to be. During one of my fave sermons, the pastor said that success is like the automatic sliding doors at the grocery store, as you get closer to where you are supposed to be/trying to go, the doors will open. What he didn't say, but I would like to add, is that if it doesn't work out you can always go back or go somewhere else.

Let's not make mountains out of molehills:

PJ Morton - "Mountains and Molehills" (New Album Dropped this week!)

Good Girls and Nice Guys (Part I)

2010-04-04T23:30:00.003-07:00

"I like to refer to them as the Cyndi Lauper honeys, they just want to have fun. Don't get me wrong, I'll tap that as well." - Dre Ellis, Brown Sugar

Months ago Double R was in town for a few days. Our first night hanging out together we went to dinner to play catch up. I've known him since high school and the combination of time and comfort means I say just about everything that is on my mind. It got to the love life updates and we began to discuss the good girl/nice plight. Was I dating anyone? Nope. He asked but since he kept up with the blog, he kinda knew the answer. He also had a few words about the folks I'd dated/blogged about in the past year — lets just say he wasn't impressed. Whatever. No need to run anyone by him that night, my move to Oakland had launched a bit of a "dry spell."

"Sometimes not dating is hard," I confessed. "I'm not really the chick that gets approached in the club. And dudes that know me or know of me seem to view me in a certain light."

I didn't really elaborate. He nodded. He knew what I was talking about. Since high school I've been referred to for the most part by first and last name. I am big sister, homey, etc.

"You know at times I've been so tired of not getting play that I've considered going all bad."

The statement made him put his drink down.

"Naw, it ain't worth it. Just give it time."

Really, I knew that. But I was only half talking out the side of my neck. After years of kicking it with dudes, I'm privy to the things discussed in not so hushed tones about chicks that get approached, I have no desire to be one of those girls (note: I am not saying that all females are approached/talked to on some b.s.) However, there are days when attention is attention.

I thought of the discussion after a reader commented on Trophy Material: "[T]here's the matter of who you want merely for sex versus who you actually want to build something lasting with." — ThatGuy

A simple statement that many are aware of, yet it doesn't change much. Kinda like how good guys know that chicks who only respond to assholes are the damaged kind of female that they really shouldn't be dealing with in the first place. Still, good guys consider being jerks just 'cause they feel like nice gets them no where.

Logic says don't change who you are, wait til the person who accepts and respects you comes along. But we're not talking logic, we are talking life.

To keep all "good girls" from going "bad" and all "nice guys" from turning into "assholes" (another note: real people are too complex for those titles), we need action. So what do we do besides the obvious answer of not trying to meet people in the club? Should every female give her number to at least one seemingly "nice guy"? Should every dude approach one female that isn't "the baddest bitch" but just "regular" and enjoying life? If you did would it just be useless and inauthentic, or would it be a great opportunity to experience something new?

Love Jones Lane

2010-04-02T21:00:00.001-07:00

"One truism in life my friend: When that Jones come down, it's a muthaf**ka." - Savon Garrison, Love Jones.

Sometimes the stats hit hard. The bitter comments and tweets — especially on articles that were meant to be positive — have a certain sting to them. Depictions of Black women as forever single and bitter creatures that Moynihan dreamed up are pervasive. So when I found out about the launch of Love Jones Lane, I was elated. Created by a woman who believes in love (and who believed in love before she fell in love), the site a welcomed and much needed break from the norm. Read this excerpt from the "About" section and check the site. Oh and I added some music below. Yay love!

"The stats were swirling and writer and editor Charreah Jackson was tired of reading/watching/tweeting one more story on “woah is the Black woman who can’t find love.”After a few years at ESSENCE.com, where she served as Associate Editor documenting the love triumphs and tragedies of women and men around the country, she knew there was much more to this story and finally hit her limit.It was time to stop complaining and do something. So she put her digital skills to use and in 24 hours launched Love Jones Lane, a place to balance out the conversation on love and show diversity of stories whether crazy in love or alone yet not lonely."

Untitled

2010-04-01T22:59:00.004-07:00

"I'm alright with me, said I'm alright with me." - Erykah Badu, Cleva

Thirty minutes before Walmart closed I rushed in to find a pair of jeans. My clothes were dirty and I wouldn't have time to wash them by morning. Plus my thighs rub together when I walk and my fave pair of jeans were two strides from shredding due to friction, so I needed a new pair anyway. I reached for the 16s and put them back and then grabbed a pair of 14s and put them back. I was grabbing them out of habit. I've been a 12 for the past few months, but when I look in the mirror most days I see my size 18 self, so it takes a second before I grab the right size. With the proper pants in hand I approached the dressing room, but not before grabbing a ten, just because, just to see. Maybe it would motivate me, but knowing how stressful work had been, I was sure not fitting into them would just piss me off. I would become so frustrated that I hadn't stuck to my eating and work-out regiment that I'd eat a pack of M&M's and drink a Pepsi.

The size ten fit. Craziness. I was excited for about 4 seconds and then I was disappointed. All that time I'd been aiming for a ten, I imagined I'd look much different. I imagined I'd be so much happier. Driving home I recalled that I'd just given my sister a lecture about loving her body. Days before her 14th birthday she was talking about what she wanted to change about her body and comparing herself to folks on television. I promptly sat her down and made her watch the Dove evolution commercial. Now it was time to give myself the same stern talking to, but I didn't. I just went home and went to bed.

In the morning someone tweeted the Window Seat video. Surely you've read the commentary and interpretations, I'll spare you. But I will say that watching the video made me smile.

I think we have to commit to loving ourselves. I think it takes practice. There are days when I fail to love myself fully, but I'm happy that I keep trying. There are days where I can't even fake it. Some days I "love" myself because I have to, because I need to be an example for my little sister, because I believe in practicing what you preach. Other days I love myself wholeheartedly.

It's a process.

Trophy Material

2010-03-10T06:44:00.001-08:00

"Wifey material" is one of those terms I hear often. For some it's a younger generation's take on "the marrying kind" for others it's doesn't have anything to do with actually getting married. I was introduced to it years ago in the "you're wifey material and I'm at the point in my life where I just want to play around," sort of way. The discussion about what makes one "wifeable" is very similar to the conversation about what makes a "good man." What I've observed is that wifeable is to trophy material as good man is to resume.

It doesn't take much digging in the archives to realize that I am quite fascinated by what people look for in a partner and that I think a lot of people only know what they want on the surface and rarely question the things that will really matter. I'm also quite perplexed by the number of good guys claiming there are no good women or that women don't like the nice guys because the women are saying the exact same thing about the men.

When I try to get to the bottom of it all I see that there are a lot of great dudes that have characteristics these ladies are looking for but not the resume. I also notice that the women have the qualities that the young men are looking for but not the image. This is not to say that dudes don't look at resumes or that women don't care about looks. However, you only have to listen to the number of women complaining that they don't want to "date down" and look at the number of dudes rocking a t-shirt and sneakers who came in the building with the chick sporting a full face of makeup and stilettos to see where I'm coming from.

I'd also like to note that the "image" seems to change depending on circle and how the guy hopes to be perceived. I have more to say on the topic, but let's see if we can get a discussion going first.

So what do you think? What have you experienced? Are guys to caught up in image? Guys do you think I am making this up? What am I missing?

Microwaves, Media and Social Networking: The Death of Contentment?

2010-03-07T21:09:00.004-08:00

I was thinking I was gonna be good
When the economy good
When the money start coming like it should
All I ever needed was an inch
When I finally got an inch
I was gonna need a foot
And them feet need sneakers
Jordans jeans and matching t-shirts
Get a foot need a mile
But don’t wanna walk a mile in my shoes
Need a car and some speakers
A garage and a driveway to keep it
And a lawn on the side yeah the greenest
Nice neighbors but the hedges between us
Cuz last time I seen their grass look greener

—Dahlak of Ill-literacy, "HereNow"

I was chilling at My Boy's office complaining. I felt guilty about complaining, but still I decided to list all of the things that were not quite what I wanted them to be. Knowing that my quality of life had drastically improved, that there were plenty of people doing far worse than I, and that in the grand scheme of things I was truly blessed and very grateful, I was still complaining. We reflected on how things would be different if we had time to dedicate to the things we were the most passionate about, but cut the conversation short once he noted that most of the folks we knew worked doing what they had to do to afford them the opportunity to do what they wanted to do. It was a reality check. I needed to calm down and be happy with what I had.

One of my big things for this year is learning to be content and it's a struggle. When you are constantly struggling to reach your goals contented and motivated seem to be contradictions. But I'm realizing that if I never feel contentment then my achievements wont mean anything because I'll always be searching for to reach the next level. And if I'm always struggling for the next level, then in some ways I'll never feel like I accomplished anything, which of course could serious impact my motivation in a negative way. What is the use in working if you never actually accomplish anything? So step one towards contentment is defining it, yay for online dictionaries:

Contentment: the quality or state of contented
Contented: feeling or showing satisfaction with one's possessions, status, or situation
— Merriam-Webster's Online Dictionary

Step two: identifying what actions, habits, influences are screwing with my contentment.
The answer: Microwaves, Media, and Social Networking.

Now maybe it's just me, but I feel like it's a valid answer. Not that I plan on giving up my microwave, and not that it's actually my microwave, but the concept. Instant gratification is an inhibits my ability to be satisfied. Why? Because my microwave and the internet, and even the freaking instant coffee gives me what I want when I want it with little to no delay. So when I have to wait for something, I'm irritated. Yes, I ascribe to the "everything in due time" and "everything has a season" philosophies, but knowing those truths doesn't automatically translate into patience. I want my debt paid off now, book published now, my bi-coastal life now.

Then there is the media portion of it. Again there's a gap between knowing and feeling. I know it's Hollywood, I know that chicks are airbrushed, I know those houses and cars are rented, but I still want it. I still use it as an indication of where I am in my life. I still want my Darius/Dre, I still want a flat stomach and a big behind and on occasion associate my physical shape with my current state of singleness (never mind that I was pulling dudes when I was three sizes bigger), and I want to go to "Teterboro just to Diddy-Bop and land my jet."

Just when I convince myself that the folks I am comparing myself are make believe, Facebook and Twitter is there to show me all the great things going with everyone else. I know what's going on in NYC when I'm Oakland and what Chicago events I'm missing when I'm in NYC, and of course I want to be at everything.

Now here I am with a goal that has been defined and a list of things that are possibly keeping me from reaching said goal. And I'm back to the contradictions between being contented and motivated. Many of my instant tools/resources help me to accomplish goals and media often provides images to aspire to, and social networking allows me to of course network and also be inspired. But I'm determined to find the balance (if such a thing exists...but that's a whole other post) and keep the motto in mind: 24 Like I've Only Got 24 (The HereNow).

Love vs. Hustle

2010-02-21T21:00:00.001-08:00

Whenever I'm talking to people for an extended period of time, let's say more than ten minutes, relationships come up in some capacity. I'm always extremely intrigued by how singleness and coupledom are colored by various experiences.

This weekend was no exception. My interactions with a few folks got me wondering about the place of relationships when you are trying to establish yourself. There was Dude 1: He single for the first time in a long time. But it's been a few months since the breakup and while some would be ready to jump back in, he isn't ready yet because he's getting his grind together. Then Dude 2: He is in a relationship and realizes that caking often takes away from his grind. And last there was Lady 1: She is recently single and now realizes that she'd put some of her dreams on hold while building and attempting to maintain a relationship.

The three situations provide one strong reason to remain single: Relationships kill your hustle.

Or do they?

Yes, when you are part of a dynamic duo all of your time can't be about the hustle but if there was a never ending battle between love and hustle we wouldn't have power couples. Right? Can you strike a balance between the two? Should there even be a balance? Which one should come first and when? I often hear folks talking about getting things in order before they get into relationships. But I also hear stories of people who were so focused on their careers that they missed out on love. And of course there are the stories of the people who never truly settle down because they haven't achieved their financial/career goals that would (in their minds) qualify as "ready" for a relationship.

What's your take?

Who Gets the Music?

2010-02-18T06:40:00.003-08:00

When a breakup, separation, or any kind of parting takes place between lovers or friends there tends to be a splitting of things. Certain friends become off limits because they were really your friend to begin with. The Thai spot with the perfect iced tea is off limits. Your secret middive bar where the bartender made a special drink for you when you couldn't decide what you were in the mood for is of course a no go. And the cafe where the Barista knows your name, drink and what book you are reading is without a doubt territory that no strange beast or rather your ex anything and their whatever.

But what about the music?

Are there certain songs that are off limits? If you ran into old best friend with her new best friend at a Grizzly Bear concert (who she heard of thanks to your musical knowledge beyond the latest "urban" blog obsession), what's the protocol? Is your ex girl allowed to introduce her new Soulja Boy listening ass boyfriend to TiRon and Pac Div? Is she allowed to convert him into a Slaughter House bumping Joell Ortiz quoting young sir? When you do your last round at the aparment, can you grab your favorite pair of pumps, The Wire: Complete Series (that all his boys think he copped when you really you put him on), and delete your "slow jams deluxe get the drawls" playlist from his iTunes?

Maybe these are odd questions. Maybe it's never been that deep. But there is something about my music, the concept of our song, and the memories that are associated with certain memories that make me feel like a person's music library is not to be taken lightly.

Any thoughts?

We've Got Something in Common

2010-02-17T08:11:00.004-08:00

"Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soulmate." —Rachel Hansen, 500 Days of Summer

I freaking love this movie. I was late watching it, but now that I have, I feel a lot better about romantic comedies. (Note: I watched it a while ago I'm just hella late posting it too.) However this post isn't about why you should watch 500 Days of Summer (though I firmly believe you should) or about how I will probably quote it as much as I quote Love Jones (it's possible). It's about that little gem spoken by the main character's little sister: "Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soulmate."

The quote hit's me on two levels. One: I wish every person who ever suggests that I date one of my homies would understand that. Usually they say "you and (fill in the blank) would make such a good couple, you have so much in common." Uhh, I have a lot in common with all of my friends, that's why they are my friends. I'm pretty sure that it takes more than that to make a relationship work.

But that really logical stream of thinking (temporarily) jumps out of the window when I am initially interested in someone. I note the things we have in common and then I think hmmm.

Eventually I realize that we are better off as friends, if anything. And that there are millions of people who can quote Jay-Z, tons of folks who like farmer's markets, a group of folks who like watching indie romantic comedies, and a number of people who can go from house parties where the cipher is the main event to networking events where business cards and working knowledge of Merlot is a prerequisite.

Sigh

What are the things that initially pique your interests? Ever fall for someone solely because of a "quirk" you have in common?

24

2010-02-15T23:01:00.001-08:00

A: I had a blast for my 21st birthday. We didn't make it to the club because the pre-game turned into the main event with massive amounts of cake and liquor. Everyone was two levels passed toasted. Some time after midnight a few people decided it was time to try the club. Drunk folks trying to make plans to go to a random club because someone's almost dude was the bouncer didn't sit too well with me, so I stayed in the 'burbs. All that to the side, my bday was greatness. What I didn't really enjoy was folks telling me that it was my "last important birthday," until I hit 25. After that the "important" birthdays would be spaced even further. Thirty then 40 then 50. Ummm, what the hell?

B: My mother doesn't really do the New Year thing. All of her planning, goals, and resolutions are centered around her birthday. I always thought that was cool.

(A plus B kind of equals) C: Every year I have a theme or a slogan associated with my age. The "important" birthdays usually have some sort of event, marker, whatever associated with them, and so I decided that I'd do the same thing. This year's slogan is "24 Like I've Only Got 24 (The HereNow)." I'm applying it to everything. I've promised myself that I will stop waiting until _______________. I've also decided to ban the phrase "I'll be happy when ____________________."

So far I've enjoyed bi-coastal birthday celebrations, finally gotten my passport, and learned to say no. I've also joined a book club, hung out with my little sister a bit more, and have started being better about contacting and responding to people (still working on it).

The big idea: to do all the things I want to do, make sure I don't miss out on who and what I truly value in life, to dream big and follow ideas up with action so those dreams come in to fruition, all while practicing being content.

Wish me luck.

Why Don't You Call Him Bitter?

2010-02-08T22:52:00.003-08:00

Ahhh I have a guest blogger!!! A.W. bka Godiva. Enjoy (oh and please comment, that's the only way she'll know you read it):

I have epiphany moments when it comes to talking about issues of love, Black folk, and society when I talk with my, as I call them, “intellectual soul mates”. A moment just like that occurred this weekend. While I was talking to Renaissance, the discussion turned to our favorite subject, relationships, a thought struck me like a ton of bricks. After scouring many Facebook/Twitter statuses, movies, and other things in social media, I realized a common theme. Men and women are allowed to “grieve” in different ways when it comes to a failed relationship, especially if they were wronged by their mate.

Anyone can just take a look at their local newsstand and see the relationship propaganda. There’s probably a 5:1 ratio of stories on how to get over a mate in women’s magazines versus a men’s magazine. And, I don’t think it’s because women “inherently” feel more than men. On the contrary, I believe it’s because women are expected to put on their “big girl” face and just move forward, while men can just vent it out, no matter how destructive this venting can be. I’ve even noticed this phenomenon in the lives of those around me. Several times I’ve met my girlfriends’ best male friends who may have been a little promiscuous and chauvinistic (not in the Lifetime movie type of way, but just enough for you to give them the side eye when they open their mouths) and I would bring it to my friend’s attention that their male friend is a little “extra”. That’s when my homegirl would inform me that dude wasn’t always that way, but changed in the worse after he was cheated on by a girlfriend he loved dearly.

I understand that the people hurt and they do so in many different ways and in no way am I trying to challenge any of the aforementioned dudes’ feelings. However, I feel like we live in a society where women are told to be resilient and “love again” when they are hurt by a lover. However, if a woman espouses any “all men ain’t shit” rheotoric, she’s bitter, male-hating and told to “do better”. In the words of Katt Williams that woman needs to “figure out what it is about her p---y that attracts no good n----s”. Essentially, the woman needs to move the hell on and stop wallowing in her sorrows and be “the bigger person”.

On the other end, if a man adopts the “f--- b-----, get money” attitude and is just all out disrespectful towards all women after his failed relationship, then it’s alright because he was hurt. It’s like the guy is given a license to make every woman (whether a potential mate or just a mere acquaintance) pay for one person’s transgressions—whether it’s as “minor” as a sexist joke or as serious as dealing with his philandering ways. When it comes to relationships and emotions, men do not necessarily hurt/feel more and same goes for women. So, how do we explain this double standard when it comes to the way men respond to hurt versus women? Why does this double standard exist? And, why does it continue to be upheld in our, nominally speaking, “progressive” society?

Chasing Butterflies

2010-02-02T21:37:00.002-08:00

Growing up I always thought true love meant a lifetime of butterflies. It was always a marker of sorts. The love stories I read and so on television always included butterflies.

At the end of yesterday's post I wrote about a certain guy not giving me butterflies, though I'd had them years before where he was concerned. Now since he and I aren't dating the lack of that weird sensation probably wouldn't have caused folks to bat an eyelash, but I had to go and say that he teaches me what I want in a relationship. That's where the questions started coming.

"How important do you feel the butterflies are? Do you think you can have a great, fulfilling relationship with someone that does not give you that flutter...?" - Jess

I almost shocked myself when my instincts said yes you can have a great relationship without that flutter. Didn't it go against what I'd learned about love and happiness? I like these other feelings more than butterflies. But then another comment came:

"I think butterflies are very important so I'd say pay attention to those hints and act accordingly." - Brokn_RecorD

That's when I started to question myself. So I hit Summer on gchat and asked what butterflies felt like to her.

Me: it feels strangely like that sinking feeling when you dip on a roller coaster, to me anyway
Summer: it's weird...it's like i get a hollow feeling in my stomach

When I look at the times that I've felt that ball in my stomach, it's always been more out of nervousness and uncertainty. In the early stages of a relationship there's certain thrill in the unknown. Hopes that you don't make an ass of yourself. Always wondering what the other person is thinking. There is a rush that comes with the challenge of figuring out what's what. But I don't think that feeling should last.

I'll note that at this point I can't seriously envision anything long term with a person based on butterflies. But for feeling of home, that the person really gets me, of being compatible and able to grow together, I'd put work in for that.

I think the butterfly effect is different from chemistry, attraction, or even the "wow I can't believe I finally found the person of my dreams" feeling.

I'd take "protected, secure, relaxed and free" over nervous any day.

Any thoughts?

Nameless

2010-02-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

I'm having some sort of writer's block at the moment. There are a bunch of drafts in my box, however none of the posts are really coming together. On some level it's that I haven't had the time to develop them the way I want, the ones that I am most excited about require a bit more research and read more like excerpts from one of my African-American Studies classes, than a blog post.

The other part of it though is that I'm experiencing emotions that I haven't been able to articulate. Recently I spent a lot of time with a friend when he was back in town. But every time I get ready to write about it, I freeze up. No poems, no blogs, nothing. If I wanted to romanticize the issue, I'd say it's because some things are too sacred and I'd like to keep them to myself. And while that could explain certain instances, I don't think it applies to every moment. It's more so that I don't know what to call this, what ever it is.

Years ago I could explain our dynamic without hesitation. I was sure I liked him. I knew because there were butterflies. I knew because I got nervous. I knew because I desperately wanted him to call me, even if it was just for a homework assignment cuz it meant I would hear his voice. He was the guy I wanted to be with that didn't want me back. My high school angst about unrequited love could only go so far though because I ended up back with my boyfriend and that was the end of the story. In college I wasn't at a loss for words either. He was my really good homie. Plain and simple. That is until he was single again and I was wondering. But even then I thought back to the high school situation. I wasn't going to put myself out there. Partly because of my ego, but mainly because we were at such different spaces in our lives that an attempt at anything would ruin a perfectly good friendship. In both cases I thought about the future and wished for better timing.

But now there are no butterflies. I know that he calls when he can and that's that. I don't think about what ifs and better timing. I don't pray that he'll one day be mine. I pray for his happiness and peace of mind. I enjoy our time together and take note of how protected, secure, relaxed and free I feel when he's around. So in some ways I suppose he teaches me what I want from the men I date without dating me...

Defining Good

2010-01-26T06:21:00.002-08:00

“A good man is whatever a woman says he is.”

His statement was very matter of fact. We’d just left a panel Belle was on at NYU called Is a Good Black Man “Still” Hard to Find? Early in the discussion we were asked to take the quotations from still and apply them to good. The question then became: What makes someone a good black man?

During dinner that night, we somehow got on Beyonce and quickly touched on her parent’s divorce. “Is Matthew Knowles a good black man?” The three women at the table hesitated. Noticing that we didn’t have an answer he followed up, “do you doubt that he was a good father?” We decided that his actions made him a bad husband, but not a bad father, but still no answer on whether or not he was a good black man. The same good husband vs. good father vs. good black man question was brought up about Tiger. Again the consensus was that stable of side-chicks didn’t mean he was a bad father, just that he wasn’t a great husband, but Tiger as a man, no answer.

Maybe a good man is hard to find because he is hard to define.

A couple of days later one of guys I follow on twitter posed a question to all of his female followers: If a dude was laid off and doesn’t have a car, but was a good man, would you still date him?

I promptly responded yes. And then I asked him how he was qualifying “good.”
He basically told me that a good man was whatever I said he was. I felt the need to let him know position: A job and a car just makes a man employed and mobile, but doesn’t have much to do with whether or not he is a good man.

However, I was still mulling over the question myself of what made a man “good” instead of bad. Folks are constantly lamenting over the lack of “good” men and women, but I don’t buy into the shortage idea. Which of course makes me think that my alternate definition is why my outlook isn’t so bleak.

I get that my good may not be your good. But I’m sure there have got to be some universal qualifications.

How do you define a good man? Does that definition change for a good black man? What’s the difference between a good man and a good woman? What about a good black man and a good black woman? And if a good man does some messed up things, is his “good” status revoked?