...because i needed this today.
in the spirit of beginning to constructively vent my anger, i have to cite this as one of the main reasons i'm pissed.
because it's destroying hearts and minds.
because it's destroying families.
because it's keeping us from the good love we could be having.
the kingdom must fall.
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label men. Show all posts
1.08.2013
8.24.2012
love, lust, and the in-between: thoughts on street harassment
{trigger warning: discussion of street harassment, sexual coercion}
in the spirit of some of my other musings (see: the slutty posts and the "what's natural" piece), i'd like to share something that's been on my mind, even though it might get me yelled at.
well...maybe not. every time i've thought that was going to happen, it hasn't. instead i get yelled at for things i think are pretty straightforward. go figure.
each year as spring and summertake their sweet time getting here approach, sistas in my internet circles start speaking out about what's commonly known as street harassment.
i understand the concerns, particularly when there is actual physical intrusion involved. and, as always, age, class, sexuality and certain physical characteristics can serve as buffers and offer privilege.
i know the game has changed. case in point: my ex was stabbed 'cause a woman wouldn't give a dude her number, and he intervened when the dude got outta hand.
i know there are intersections with domestic violence, rape, coercion and other forms of sexual violence. i stand with women who feel uncomfortable being approached in an overt and/or crude manner--for whatever reason(s)--and i defend their right to defend themselves, if necessary.
i also agree that some men are too quick to presume all women are comfortable with the same level(s) of approach, touch, and closeness. i am not better, more special, nicer or "easier" than my friend because i'll let you hug me or rub my shoulders after knowing you for an hour (if you're cute. maybe. ask me tomorrow.) and she won't.
we are not all the same woman in different skin. stop that.
no, we should not be called outta our names.
no, a stranger should never fondle his genitals at the sight of you.
no, men shouldn't hiss, click, whistle or snap when they can otherwise speak.
our anger at those things is justified, a righteous, powerful tool that propels us towards gaining our just due.
yes, men should know better.
yes, male egos shouldn't be so fragile.
but...i also see complexity in this.
as a daddy's girl and a woman who deeply loves men, i sometimes regret the ways we have this conversation. it's a shame we've come to a reality where a woman has to consider all this when receiving an appreciative--albeit lusty--glance* or a good-intentioned request for a smile.**
i wonder what's been lost because many women have difficult, non existent, or deeply damaged relationships with their fathers and other men in their lives. how does it hurt us when we've never lived with a man who was genuinely invested in our unique gifts and general awesomeness?
what would happen if we could hear a brotha say, "wow...you're beautiful" and genuinely reply, "thank you"--whether we wanted to exchange information or not?
i ask because i have a tendency to dig until i get to the root. and in this situation, the root doesn't always feel like sexism or street harassment. it feels like broken hearts and shattered trusts.
as we fight against patriarchy, kyriarchy, and an encyclopedia's worth of -isms, it's important to understand the layers of interpersonal healing woven into these structures.
intellectualizing and analysis is very necessary, but we must avoid using it as a heart-shield. remember to fight the real enemies, heal the real wounds, mourn the real losses.
it is essential that we find time to love, to enjoy one another, fall into bliss.
i believe there are moments when we can afford that.
let's not lose that in the struggle.
*which they ALL do. even the sweet, artsy, wonderfully enlightened ones. hell, especially them. often, it's what they do AFTER the glance that matters.
**which might actually be genuine, if corny or ill-timed.
in the spirit of some of my other musings (see: the slutty posts and the "what's natural" piece), i'd like to share something that's been on my mind, even though it might get me yelled at.
well...maybe not. every time i've thought that was going to happen, it hasn't. instead i get yelled at for things i think are pretty straightforward. go figure.
each year as spring and summer
i understand the concerns, particularly when there is actual physical intrusion involved. and, as always, age, class, sexuality and certain physical characteristics can serve as buffers and offer privilege.
i know the game has changed. case in point: my ex was stabbed 'cause a woman wouldn't give a dude her number, and he intervened when the dude got outta hand.
i know there are intersections with domestic violence, rape, coercion and other forms of sexual violence. i stand with women who feel uncomfortable being approached in an overt and/or crude manner--for whatever reason(s)--and i defend their right to defend themselves, if necessary.
i also agree that some men are too quick to presume all women are comfortable with the same level(s) of approach, touch, and closeness. i am not better, more special, nicer or "easier" than my friend because i'll let you hug me or rub my shoulders after knowing you for an hour (if you're cute. maybe. ask me tomorrow.) and she won't.
we are not all the same woman in different skin. stop that.
no, we should not be called outta our names.
no, a stranger should never fondle his genitals at the sight of you.
no, men shouldn't hiss, click, whistle or snap when they can otherwise speak.
our anger at those things is justified, a righteous, powerful tool that propels us towards gaining our just due.
yes, men should know better.
yes, male egos shouldn't be so fragile.
but...i also see complexity in this.
as a daddy's girl and a woman who deeply loves men, i sometimes regret the ways we have this conversation. it's a shame we've come to a reality where a woman has to consider all this when receiving an appreciative--albeit lusty--glance* or a good-intentioned request for a smile.**
i wonder what's been lost because many women have difficult, non existent, or deeply damaged relationships with their fathers and other men in their lives. how does it hurt us when we've never lived with a man who was genuinely invested in our unique gifts and general awesomeness?
what would happen if we could hear a brotha say, "wow...you're beautiful" and genuinely reply, "thank you"--whether we wanted to exchange information or not?
i ask because i have a tendency to dig until i get to the root. and in this situation, the root doesn't always feel like sexism or street harassment. it feels like broken hearts and shattered trusts.
as we fight against patriarchy, kyriarchy, and an encyclopedia's worth of -isms, it's important to understand the layers of interpersonal healing woven into these structures.
intellectualizing and analysis is very necessary, but we must avoid using it as a heart-shield. remember to fight the real enemies, heal the real wounds, mourn the real losses.
it is essential that we find time to love, to enjoy one another, fall into bliss.
i believe there are moments when we can afford that.
let's not lose that in the struggle.
*which they ALL do. even the sweet, artsy, wonderfully enlightened ones. hell, especially them. often, it's what they do AFTER the glance that matters.
**which might actually be genuine, if corny or ill-timed.
10.15.2011
singlehood chronicles # 9
in the midst of a conversation yesterday, i realized that i've never had the relationship i truly desire.
yes, there have been close calls and other glimpses, but not a full-blown expression of it. something's always managed to get in the way: distance, school, fatherhood, workaholism {his, not mine}. an emergency always popped up. a trip always had to be taken. money always had to be made.
life is gonna get in the way, no doubt. but it seemed unnaturally problematic. then there were the things i saw and sensed, but didn't name until much later: trauma was a big one, mental illness or distress was another.
eventually i realized i had to state a definitive boundary about what work i was not willing to do in my heart and in my bed; that i wanted my purpose to be lived in my larger life, not my intimate one.
as i approach my mid-30s, my sincerest desire is for a relationship where we sincerely make time to grow with and love one another despite the ebb and flow of life.
i need a man who knows how to navigate his existence so the distractions aren't allowed to dictate our pace.
i want time spent being: chillin in our/each other's space after work a couple days a week, lazy weekends in bed or on long drives...
this probably means no more daddies. y'all know i love the babies. and, yes, i know i'm at the age where it can be difficult {note: NOT impossible} to meet someone who hasn't had a partnership or marriage that's resulted in at least one child.
however, i've observed that parenting a school-aged little one is very time and energy consuming, and it puts a lot of weight on a new relationship. this is especially true since (a) i don't have children myself and (b) i am not willing to include said child(ren) in our dealings until/unless the relationship becomes a serious one.
i've also noticed that in those situations, time with me becomes a refuge--now, that's something i naturally and enjoyably create for lovers. but i want that reciprocated. and that's difficult for a man who is perpetually exhausted by his life outside of "us".
for better or worse, that's where i am right now.
the good news? i feel like i'm on the verge of realizing this dream. there are different and no less serious challenges...but nothing insurmountable.
guess we'll just have to wait and see, huh?
yes, there have been close calls and other glimpses, but not a full-blown expression of it. something's always managed to get in the way: distance, school, fatherhood, workaholism {his, not mine}. an emergency always popped up. a trip always had to be taken. money always had to be made.
life is gonna get in the way, no doubt. but it seemed unnaturally problematic. then there were the things i saw and sensed, but didn't name until much later: trauma was a big one, mental illness or distress was another.
eventually i realized i had to state a definitive boundary about what work i was not willing to do in my heart and in my bed; that i wanted my purpose to be lived in my larger life, not my intimate one.
as i approach my mid-30s, my sincerest desire is for a relationship where we sincerely make time to grow with and love one another despite the ebb and flow of life.
i need a man who knows how to navigate his existence so the distractions aren't allowed to dictate our pace.
i want time spent being: chillin in our/each other's space after work a couple days a week, lazy weekends in bed or on long drives...
this probably means no more daddies. y'all know i love the babies. and, yes, i know i'm at the age where it can be difficult {note: NOT impossible} to meet someone who hasn't had a partnership or marriage that's resulted in at least one child.
however, i've observed that parenting a school-aged little one is very time and energy consuming, and it puts a lot of weight on a new relationship. this is especially true since (a) i don't have children myself and (b) i am not willing to include said child(ren) in our dealings until/unless the relationship becomes a serious one.
i've also noticed that in those situations, time with me becomes a refuge--now, that's something i naturally and enjoyably create for lovers. but i want that reciprocated. and that's difficult for a man who is perpetually exhausted by his life outside of "us".
for better or worse, that's where i am right now.
the good news? i feel like i'm on the verge of realizing this dream. there are different and no less serious challenges...but nothing insurmountable.
guess we'll just have to wait and see, huh?
2.13.2010
a teaching from dan smoke
from protecting the circle - aboriginal men ending violence against women
an unhealthy man is someone who hangs on to his wayward ways of youth. drinking, violence, machismo, relationship hopping and being a poor role model are some of these ways. they refuse to grow up and walk a man's path--they are still adolescents in a man's body. these 'boys' certainly don't learn from their mistakes as men. to the contrary, they will blame others for their poor behaviour. they become psychologically and morally stuck and are fearful of change and growth. these men are particularly afraid of strong women. they will deliberately seek out a woman who they can control and not a true partner. intimacy will be too scary for them.
on the other hand, an imperfect healthy man will grow up from his wayward ways. he will stop unhealthy behavior that brought him thrills, shame and confusion as a young man... he will cry, say i'm sorry and live life as if his past relatives are always watching... this man...will check in with others and himself to see if his path is a true one.
2.03.2010
you cannot rise by standing on my neck. (c) dopegirlfresh
was reminded of this earlier in the week.
some highlights:
yes, as a black man in america, you DO enjoy some privilege.
i know that's a loaded word, but in an anti-oppression context, privilege deals with how much societal "value" you carry. for instance: i am a black woman, but i'm also straight, cis-gender, able-bodied, college educated, and from a middle class background. all of those things give me an "advantage" in society over a queer, poor sista--even though much of the {mostly black male} parlance would have you think we're all in this together.
to a degree, we are.
however, black women have often had to swallow some really offensive behavior and attitudes just to stay in the game. to struggle for freedom with our brothas. to be heard. we've also worked on our own terms.
either way: if you're dissing the sistas, you're not fighting the power.
if you need an example of how it's done:
fem.men.ist
jewel woods
men can stop rape
^SEHU?!
saul willams (especially his book she)
...to start.
some highlights:
1. I don't have to choose my race over my sex in political matters.
7. I can live my life without ever having read black feminist authors, or knowing about black women's history, or black women's issues.
8. I can be a part of a black liberation organization like the Black Panther Party where an "out" rapist Eldridge Cleaver can assume leadership position.
41. I can believe that the success of the black family is dependent on returning men to their historical place within the family, rather than in promoting policies that strengthen black women's independence, or that provide social benefits to black children.
68. I know that the further I go in education the more success I will have with women.
74. I can choose to be emotionally withdrawn and not communicate in a relationships and it be considered unfortunate but normal.
75. I can dismissively refer to another persons grievances as ^*ing.
76. I have the privilege of not knowing what words and concepts like patriarchy, phallocentric, complicity, colluding, and obfuscation mean.
yes, as a black man in america, you DO enjoy some privilege.
i know that's a loaded word, but in an anti-oppression context, privilege deals with how much societal "value" you carry. for instance: i am a black woman, but i'm also straight, cis-gender, able-bodied, college educated, and from a middle class background. all of those things give me an "advantage" in society over a queer, poor sista--even though much of the {mostly black male} parlance would have you think we're all in this together.
to a degree, we are.
however, black women have often had to swallow some really offensive behavior and attitudes just to stay in the game. to struggle for freedom with our brothas. to be heard. we've also worked on our own terms.
either way: if you're dissing the sistas, you're not fighting the power.
if you need an example of how it's done:
fem.men.ist
jewel woods
men can stop rape
^SEHU?!
saul willams (especially his book she)
...to start.
12.12.2009
an exercise in restraint
i've done a bit of meeting and greeting lately. feels good. i am grateful for the confidence and clarity it's brought. plus, i haven't done deep visualization in a long time, so it's been catalyzing.
it's also reminded me how impatient i can be in the "will he/won't he call" stage.
typically, i don't mind doing a little legwork if i think the guy's worth it. if you want something, go get it, right?
since i'm nearly always operating from my intuitive, heart-self and not my head, i often see and am attracted to said potential. therefore, my natural inclination is to give them what they need without deep regard as to whether or not they are able to return the favor. i always get the basic, "decent guy" packaging, so they are at least willing to try to reciprocate.
unfortunately, where i can get ocean-deep, they often flounder. and that's when things fall apart. so i've decided it's probably better to step back and let them show themselves first.
now more than ever, i am totally focused on cultivating intentionality in my relationships--even in the beginning stages.
love can come and will be reciprocated as applicable. i'm open to that. and i'm still gonna get mine when i want it. however, there will be no commitment without real, tangible outcomes, and i have no problem stating that very clearly.
you want me? that's sweet. prove it.
over the last thirteen years, i've learned three big lessons: first, there's a thin line between mysterious, creative depths and the masking of unearthed and unacknowledged pain. second, if i need a crowbar and forceps to approach your psyche, it's not gonna work. third--and probably most important--a well-rehearsed melange of coping and defense mechanisms is not a personality.
lots of really "nice guys" have all that going. in spades.
so, yeah. i'm ready to hop back on the merry-go-round.
...just understand that i am heavily armed.
it's also reminded me how impatient i can be in the "will he/won't he call" stage.
typically, i don't mind doing a little legwork if i think the guy's worth it. if you want something, go get it, right?
since i'm nearly always operating from my intuitive, heart-self and not my head, i often see and am attracted to said potential. therefore, my natural inclination is to give them what they need without deep regard as to whether or not they are able to return the favor. i always get the basic, "decent guy" packaging, so they are at least willing to try to reciprocate.
unfortunately, where i can get ocean-deep, they often flounder. and that's when things fall apart. so i've decided it's probably better to step back and let them show themselves first.
now more than ever, i am totally focused on cultivating intentionality in my relationships--even in the beginning stages.
love can come and will be reciprocated as applicable. i'm open to that. and i'm still gonna get mine when i want it. however, there will be no commitment without real, tangible outcomes, and i have no problem stating that very clearly.
you want me? that's sweet. prove it.
over the last thirteen years, i've learned three big lessons: first, there's a thin line between mysterious, creative depths and the masking of unearthed and unacknowledged pain. second, if i need a crowbar and forceps to approach your psyche, it's not gonna work. third--and probably most important--a well-rehearsed melange of coping and defense mechanisms is not a personality.
lots of really "nice guys" have all that going. in spades.
so, yeah. i'm ready to hop back on the merry-go-round.
...just understand that i am heavily armed.
10.24.2009
the case for true intimacy
when i was ill a couple of weeks ago, i thought to myself, "man, this is when it sucks to be single...no one to hug you, bring you soup..."
then i remembered the ex had never been there when i'd been sick anyway.
granted, i don't get sick often. regardless, he'd never nursed me beyond a sympathetic phone call or two. once when i had a bad cold, he brought me a bag of treats.
in six years, we'd developed no daily, weekly or even monthly rituals. we didn't have a song. pet names were used liberally--cute, but what did that really mean? a waitress at one restaurant came to recognize us, but we didn't have a place to call "ours", really. i hardly knew anyone in his family and never met his parents, although i finally came to know a few of his friends.
by all accounts, this was never about lying or cheating. he'd simply learned to wrap his life in neat little packages so that if anything happened, he could walk away, no hard feelings (for him). never mind what that did to me or us as a unit. in the end, he finally understood this, albeit too late.
i was a wreck for weeks, not because i wanted him or even missed his smile, but because i became conscious of what i'd lost by settling for a relationship so far below my understanding and experience of intimacy, affection and love.
even at times when i thought i should miss him, i found there was nothing to miss. he had given me so little of himself compared to what i had tried to give him.
deep intimacy was nearly always reduced to purely physical moments; towards the end, even those moments became rarer than usual. if we weren't fucking regularly, all the ugly gaps started to show, and nothing seemed to fix them. whenever the distance grew, i was the only one who seemed to know how to bridge it.
hell, even casual lovers need attention and cultivation. now, if i fuck you on the first date or what have you, i'm willing to deal with the fact that i might stir up your bullshit around "easy" women or simply confuse the hell out of you*, but if i catch a whiff of said bullshit, don't expect me to accommodate you.
at this stage in my life, i have no time for men who overthink to the point of complete inaction, who are full of fear or trapped inside their own insecurities and hangups. there will be no re-raising, coddling or praise for half-assed displays of affection.
i was "brave enough" to try to navigate all that once. no longer.
if you want me, let me know. i'll respond in kind.
if you leave me alone, i'll leave you alone. i'll show you i'm interested, but after that, the ball's in your court. play it, or not.
i've learned very well what hides behind intimacy issues**, and i don't need those demons visited upon me or my heart again.
*i haven't had this happen, by the way. on the rare occasion i have had the will and the opportunity to do this, the reaction of surprise/confusion is far more common, with the confusion stemming from the fact that i do so because i want to, and not in an effort to please and/or impress them. this is where women who do not own their needs/comfort levels are making it hard for broads like me...
**note that i'm not using the word "commitment", although i think folks often use that and "intimacy" interchangeably. from where i sit, everyone with commitment issues may have intimacy issues, but not everyone with intimacy issues has commitment issues. there are plenty of folks who can "commit" without doing a damn thing to deepen their relationship(s) with other human beings, typically because that's what they've been raised to do--i.e., if you love her, you gotta marry her and have babies 'cause that's what "proper" folks do...damn the fact that you don't know how to talk to her or even check in with yourself.
in my opinion, commitment means honoring whatever bond/agreement you have with a particular person(s) (e.g., remaining sexually monogamous). intimacy has to do with how you operate in relationship; a way to measure emotional health. can you touch/kiss/pleasure with ease? can you reveal yourself at appropriate stages in the relationship to help it grow? what are your triggers, and can you discuss these effectively with your partner? do you know how to be consistently present and emotionally available--whether or not you are physically present? shit like that.
then i remembered the ex had never been there when i'd been sick anyway.
granted, i don't get sick often. regardless, he'd never nursed me beyond a sympathetic phone call or two. once when i had a bad cold, he brought me a bag of treats.
in six years, we'd developed no daily, weekly or even monthly rituals. we didn't have a song. pet names were used liberally--cute, but what did that really mean? a waitress at one restaurant came to recognize us, but we didn't have a place to call "ours", really. i hardly knew anyone in his family and never met his parents, although i finally came to know a few of his friends.
by all accounts, this was never about lying or cheating. he'd simply learned to wrap his life in neat little packages so that if anything happened, he could walk away, no hard feelings (for him). never mind what that did to me or us as a unit. in the end, he finally understood this, albeit too late.
i was a wreck for weeks, not because i wanted him or even missed his smile, but because i became conscious of what i'd lost by settling for a relationship so far below my understanding and experience of intimacy, affection and love.
even at times when i thought i should miss him, i found there was nothing to miss. he had given me so little of himself compared to what i had tried to give him.
deep intimacy was nearly always reduced to purely physical moments; towards the end, even those moments became rarer than usual. if we weren't fucking regularly, all the ugly gaps started to show, and nothing seemed to fix them. whenever the distance grew, i was the only one who seemed to know how to bridge it.
hell, even casual lovers need attention and cultivation. now, if i fuck you on the first date or what have you, i'm willing to deal with the fact that i might stir up your bullshit around "easy" women or simply confuse the hell out of you*, but if i catch a whiff of said bullshit, don't expect me to accommodate you.
at this stage in my life, i have no time for men who overthink to the point of complete inaction, who are full of fear or trapped inside their own insecurities and hangups. there will be no re-raising, coddling or praise for half-assed displays of affection.
i was "brave enough" to try to navigate all that once. no longer.
if you want me, let me know. i'll respond in kind.
if you leave me alone, i'll leave you alone. i'll show you i'm interested, but after that, the ball's in your court. play it, or not.
i've learned very well what hides behind intimacy issues**, and i don't need those demons visited upon me or my heart again.
*i haven't had this happen, by the way. on the rare occasion i have had the will and the opportunity to do this, the reaction of surprise/confusion is far more common, with the confusion stemming from the fact that i do so because i want to, and not in an effort to please and/or impress them. this is where women who do not own their needs/comfort levels are making it hard for broads like me...
**note that i'm not using the word "commitment", although i think folks often use that and "intimacy" interchangeably. from where i sit, everyone with commitment issues may have intimacy issues, but not everyone with intimacy issues has commitment issues. there are plenty of folks who can "commit" without doing a damn thing to deepen their relationship(s) with other human beings, typically because that's what they've been raised to do--i.e., if you love her, you gotta marry her and have babies 'cause that's what "proper" folks do...damn the fact that you don't know how to talk to her or even check in with yourself.
in my opinion, commitment means honoring whatever bond/agreement you have with a particular person(s) (e.g., remaining sexually monogamous). intimacy has to do with how you operate in relationship; a way to measure emotional health. can you touch/kiss/pleasure with ease? can you reveal yourself at appropriate stages in the relationship to help it grow? what are your triggers, and can you discuss these effectively with your partner? do you know how to be consistently present and emotionally available--whether or not you are physically present? shit like that.
8.27.2009
last july, i was thinking... (an unreleased draft)
yes, i am fiercely independent. even as an infant i wouldn't let my mother hold me too long before i fussed to be put down.
i enjoy trying to get somewhere on my own before i ask for help--i'm not sure why.
maybe because i've always been assured of a safety net. i know help will be there if i really, truly need it, so i don't sweat the small stuff. or cry wolf.
because my heart was broken too early.
because, somewhere in there, i'm a warrior.
because i can.
better or worse, it is who i am.
over time, i've learned that's something a woman's not supposed to be. 'cause men need to be needed, you know. if they're not being big, bad wolfy providers standing guard at the door day and night, they just don't know what to do with themselves.
to hell with tenderness, time, passion, or pleasure.
to hell with getting to know me inside out
or learning to speak my langage (and teaching me yours)
or discovering my deepest needs and desires.
i mean, sure, you'll rake the lawn and wash the dishes without being asked...and i'm not knocking that. at all.
but it goes so much deeper...
i enjoy trying to get somewhere on my own before i ask for help--i'm not sure why.
maybe because i've always been assured of a safety net. i know help will be there if i really, truly need it, so i don't sweat the small stuff. or cry wolf.
because my heart was broken too early.
because, somewhere in there, i'm a warrior.
because i can.
better or worse, it is who i am.
over time, i've learned that's something a woman's not supposed to be. 'cause men need to be needed, you know. if they're not being big, bad wolfy providers standing guard at the door day and night, they just don't know what to do with themselves.
to hell with tenderness, time, passion, or pleasure.
to hell with getting to know me inside out
or learning to speak my langage (and teaching me yours)
or discovering my deepest needs and desires.
i mean, sure, you'll rake the lawn and wash the dishes without being asked...and i'm not knocking that. at all.
but it goes so much deeper...
8.25.2009
lesson learned
i'm really feeling jo nubian on this one...
it's a good reminder that the straight-up abusers and liars are not the only men to watch out for. although those men do a good bit of damage on the social/macro level, the signs of that behavior are far more obvious.
on the personal/micro scale, it can be the ones who think they have it all together; the ones who have been able to mask insecurities with a variety of talents and levels of conversation. "good" guys capable of stagnating or ruining relationships through a lack of emotional intelligence, self awareness, and triggered behavior.
that's the situation i've had to break away from, and the one i'm terrified of encountering again.
i'm worried about the boys running around with man-masks on...who've never been challenged, called out, or touched deeply enough to know what's lurking under their facades.
from here on out, i can love them in the abstract--as my brothers in the struggle.
but that's as far as i'm willing to go.
it's a good reminder that the straight-up abusers and liars are not the only men to watch out for. although those men do a good bit of damage on the social/macro level, the signs of that behavior are far more obvious.
on the personal/micro scale, it can be the ones who think they have it all together; the ones who have been able to mask insecurities with a variety of talents and levels of conversation. "good" guys capable of stagnating or ruining relationships through a lack of emotional intelligence, self awareness, and triggered behavior.
that's the situation i've had to break away from, and the one i'm terrified of encountering again.
i'm worried about the boys running around with man-masks on...who've never been challenged, called out, or touched deeply enough to know what's lurking under their facades.
from here on out, i can love them in the abstract--as my brothers in the struggle.
but that's as far as i'm willing to go.
6.13.2009
sango & ogun
In Africa Ogun's color is pure red. Then we have Sango whose colors are red and white. The color for Obatala is white. We can see a pattern emerging here. Red represents virility, vitality, aggression. Red and white represents balance between aggression and compassion. White represents the incarnation of mystical unity.
Should any of you be plagued with notions that these three Orisa are enemies, or that they don't get along, know this is a common misconception. These Orisa represent a continuation of one cycle. The difference between Ogun, Sango and Obatala is like the difference between rain water, fresh water and salt water. They are different at some point, but they bleed into each other.
In some places in Nigeria Ogun and Sango are seen as loving brothers not enemies. You can see why. Sango is fire. What is fire in relationship to iron? Fire tempers iron and makes it stronger. That is not a hostile relationship. It is a symbiotic mutually beneficial relationship. As a Force in Nature it represents an important fusion of energy with no hostile implication.
~originally written by Awo Falokun Fatunmbi
the meeting of fire and iron is symbiotic and chaotic.
beneficial, but dangerous in human hands.
osun's cool, fresh throne doesn't always intervene. some days, we are those warring brothers...
but, in the end, we always wind up forging something new.
5.28.2009
encounter
hello again...
i saw you today,
but you didn't see me.
it's just as well...
knowing this is an affair of the aura
doesn't ease the ache in my chest
or kill the inclination to bury my face in your neck
and go wherever you're going.
to some part of me,
you are walking honey,
a living offering;
i want you
for my altar
to keep the spirits close.
...your smile can do that, you know.
but that wouldn't be fair,
would it?
i saw you today,
but you didn't see me.
it's just as well...
knowing this is an affair of the aura
doesn't ease the ache in my chest
or kill the inclination to bury my face in your neck
and go wherever you're going.
to some part of me,
you are walking honey,
a living offering;
i want you
for my altar
to keep the spirits close.
...your smile can do that, you know.
but that wouldn't be fair,
would it?
5.07.2009
south bronx / the south south bronx
cocoa bread sweet, quick tongued jamerican boy with pretty brown skin and soft, black locs...
you met us through a mutual friend, and soon you were hanging out in our dorm rooms and buying us liquor before we could get it ourselves. we invaded your off campus apartment, giggling and tipsy from cheap vodka and hours of dancing.
you asked me to twist your hair when you couldn't get home to your sister. when i said i didn't know how, you told me the skill was in my blood. you leaned back between my knees as i dipped my fingers into the sticky beeswax and spread it over your new growth.
you were right after all...
we always flirted, cuddled and played, making everyone wonder. it took some time before we actually tried each other out--you had friends and i had friends...
but, one night when i was alone and feeling a little less than innocent, i got you to skip a friend's housewarming to keep me company. the rest was history.
we made a pact to never let our play get in the way of our friendship. and it didn't.
i remember your mary jane and tea in the mornings and that pretty mouth at night. when he broke my heart, you took me in and held me through my tears.
after we were all done with school, you came for a visit...then i never heard from you again. by then, my locs were just past my shoulders, yours nearly to your waist.
years later my mother found the picture of us you took for your photography class: you with much shorter hair, me with much straighter hair. you sitting straight up on the sofa, me reclined against your chest. our arms intertwined, complexion contrast enhanced by the black and white film.
it sits in my living room still.
(SW: if by any chance you read this, please get in touch...i pray you're well & think of you often. hope you got the hell outta boston. i miss you & our friendship.)
(addendum, 2.2011 - found him. *smile*. happily married with 2 cute kids.)
you met us through a mutual friend, and soon you were hanging out in our dorm rooms and buying us liquor before we could get it ourselves. we invaded your off campus apartment, giggling and tipsy from cheap vodka and hours of dancing.
you asked me to twist your hair when you couldn't get home to your sister. when i said i didn't know how, you told me the skill was in my blood. you leaned back between my knees as i dipped my fingers into the sticky beeswax and spread it over your new growth.
you were right after all...
we always flirted, cuddled and played, making everyone wonder. it took some time before we actually tried each other out--you had friends and i had friends...
but, one night when i was alone and feeling a little less than innocent, i got you to skip a friend's housewarming to keep me company. the rest was history.
we made a pact to never let our play get in the way of our friendship. and it didn't.
i remember your mary jane and tea in the mornings and that pretty mouth at night. when he broke my heart, you took me in and held me through my tears.
after we were all done with school, you came for a visit...then i never heard from you again. by then, my locs were just past my shoulders, yours nearly to your waist.
years later my mother found the picture of us you took for your photography class: you with much shorter hair, me with much straighter hair. you sitting straight up on the sofa, me reclined against your chest. our arms intertwined, complexion contrast enhanced by the black and white film.
it sits in my living room still.
(SW: if by any chance you read this, please get in touch...i pray you're well & think of you often. hope you got the hell outta boston. i miss you & our friendship.)
(addendum, 2.2011 - found him. *smile*. happily married with 2 cute kids.)
5.05.2009
mister music
our first date was like a dream: dessert, a long walk in a hidden park. we literally talked all night, then made love at sunrise.
there were also stolen kisses between sets. the shutters in your apartment that struggled to hold back the sun. pomegranates on christmas eve.
at your place, the night usually started and ended with music. i learned the arts of the perfectly soulful lullaby and wake up call. it was fun browsing your stacked milk crates--laughing at the kitschy samples and marveling at the classics.
there was a warmth between us, but we never fell in love. never got around to commitment, arguments, misunderstandings.
but you kept on playing me records. maybe that was your way of remembering...
there were also stolen kisses between sets. the shutters in your apartment that struggled to hold back the sun. pomegranates on christmas eve.
at your place, the night usually started and ended with music. i learned the arts of the perfectly soulful lullaby and wake up call. it was fun browsing your stacked milk crates--laughing at the kitschy samples and marveling at the classics.
there was a warmth between us, but we never fell in love. never got around to commitment, arguments, misunderstandings.
but you kept on playing me records. maybe that was your way of remembering...
4.03.2009
pissivity (2)
i liked you. actually, i still like you.
somehow, you warmed me from the inside out. i was emerging from a brittle, dull stretch of life and you gave me sweet water to sip.
i liked you.
then you dropped me.
i am not used to that feeling, nor is it easy for me to accept.
i know i'm mainly pissed 'cause i believed that you were my way out. when you didn't accept that role, i was disappointed and felt abandoned.
(i realize there was no way for you to see what i saw or feel what i felt, and it was too early to say so much. so there is no true "blame". just the curse of this sort of clairvoyance.)
the stalling of our physical relationship was...disconcerting, at best. i was deeply drawn to the possibility (inevitability?) of taking you as a lover, only to find we ran at vastly different speeds.
this is all familiar. i sense that you must have broken my heart once, or been an unrequited love.
i'm sure that i had to wind up back where i did for the good of us both. there was a sense that our coupling would have been analogous to going down a dead end street just to see how/where it ends.
on the other hand, i thought, "who are you to ignore me, supreme courtesan goddess queen?" it did not seem natural. it also stung a bit.
i don't know what roads you were on or have been down since, and i don't much care--since they had nothing to do with me. selfish, i know. but there's that lingering memory of when i'd have given the world for you and you ignored me. your memory is like a favorite photo framed by broken glass: beautiful, but nearly impossible to pick up for a closer look.
so, forgive me, but even as i still appreciate and like you as a person and wish you no ill will, part of me needs to say this:
somehow, you warmed me from the inside out. i was emerging from a brittle, dull stretch of life and you gave me sweet water to sip.
i liked you.
then you dropped me.
i am not used to that feeling, nor is it easy for me to accept.
i know i'm mainly pissed 'cause i believed that you were my way out. when you didn't accept that role, i was disappointed and felt abandoned.
(i realize there was no way for you to see what i saw or feel what i felt, and it was too early to say so much. so there is no true "blame". just the curse of this sort of clairvoyance.)
the stalling of our physical relationship was...disconcerting, at best. i was deeply drawn to the possibility (inevitability?) of taking you as a lover, only to find we ran at vastly different speeds.
this is all familiar. i sense that you must have broken my heart once, or been an unrequited love.
i'm sure that i had to wind up back where i did for the good of us both. there was a sense that our coupling would have been analogous to going down a dead end street just to see how/where it ends.
on the other hand, i thought, "who are you to ignore me, supreme courtesan goddess queen?" it did not seem natural. it also stung a bit.
i don't know what roads you were on or have been down since, and i don't much care--since they had nothing to do with me. selfish, i know. but there's that lingering memory of when i'd have given the world for you and you ignored me. your memory is like a favorite photo framed by broken glass: beautiful, but nearly impossible to pick up for a closer look.
so, forgive me, but even as i still appreciate and like you as a person and wish you no ill will, part of me needs to say this:
fuck you.
i wanted to hand you a bit of heaven and you turned your back on it. that's fine; i don't need you. you only hurt yourself.
still, given my charms, it hurts that someone so beautiful and honeyed did not fall under my spell. you bruised my ego, which is only truly considerable in matters of love/loving. i don't expect to get everything i want, but i sure do get a lot of it.no one asked you for undying love or loyalty. i just wanted to share something with you, and you told me no.
there's no need to explain; no explanation would suffice. you, my little challenge, resisted the irresistible, thereby simultaneously earning my wrath and my respect. congratulations, and thanks for the lesson.
gratefully, in this (life)time, there will be no jealous fits, catfights or enraged, drunken phone calls.
still, only true worshippers are allowed in my house. curiosity seekers need not cross my threshold.
you can go the fuck away now.
2.17.2009
one unique sista (apparently)
you know, every time i see something like this or a blog like this, i start to wonder: am i really that different?*
or maybe gender roles are just that fked up, arbitrary, and nonsensical.
or, alternately, maturity is the true rarity.
either way, the "usual" crap/handling doesn't work on me, and hasn't since i was a teenager.
i am unmarried and childless because i was raised to make very thoughtful choices around those matters--if i chose to take that route in life at all. neither is or was central to womanhood in my family.
i have never had a problem attracting or "keeping" men, and even though i identify as a womanist/feminist, i have nothing against mothering/childbirth, as i've written about here a few times.
in my experience, needing to be right is generally a male affliction.
sure, i can get hormonal, but i KNOW when i am and will tell you (my moods don't swing anything like they used to anyway).
i do not covet, enjoy, like or entertain drama. i watch it on tv.
black men--or men in general, for that matter--are not my enemy and i do not treat them as such.
i know my shit, i've worked on a lot of it, and i'm willing to keep working on it if/when necessary. i expect the same of my partners.
so i really don't know what to tell you. either there are a lot of children out there masquerading as grown folk, or y'all know some really interesting people.
*for the record, i rather enjoy very smart brothas. i am NOT a fan of tubman--whether he's serious or not. he's a defcon 1 level tkon associate, obviously
or maybe gender roles are just that fked up, arbitrary, and nonsensical.
or, alternately, maturity is the true rarity.
either way, the "usual" crap/handling doesn't work on me, and hasn't since i was a teenager.
i am unmarried and childless because i was raised to make very thoughtful choices around those matters--if i chose to take that route in life at all. neither is or was central to womanhood in my family.
i have never had a problem attracting or "keeping" men, and even though i identify as a womanist/feminist, i have nothing against mothering/childbirth, as i've written about here a few times.
in my experience, needing to be right is generally a male affliction.
sure, i can get hormonal, but i KNOW when i am and will tell you (my moods don't swing anything like they used to anyway).
i do not covet, enjoy, like or entertain drama. i watch it on tv.
black men--or men in general, for that matter--are not my enemy and i do not treat them as such.
i know my shit, i've worked on a lot of it, and i'm willing to keep working on it if/when necessary. i expect the same of my partners.
so i really don't know what to tell you. either there are a lot of children out there masquerading as grown folk, or y'all know some really interesting people.
*for the record, i rather enjoy very smart brothas. i am NOT a fan of tubman--whether he's serious or not. he's a defcon 1 level tkon associate, obviously
10.16.2008
begging for ownership? hell no. / take a negro to task? right on!
ok. so i got blasted with this song not too long ago during a random encounter with an urban radio station...
if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it?
the feminist in me cringed immediately. why does a sensual relationship between two consenting adults have to involve undertones of ownership, constant power struggles, and a tax break in order to be deemed acceptable?*
my enjoyment of and/or emotional connection to a man has no bearing on whether or not he finds me desirable enough to "put a ring on it".
when i want to be monogamous, i am. when i don't, i'm not. and i'm not gonna beg a commitment from anyone who obviously is not content with lil ol' me.
so. fast forward to earlier this week when someone sent a link to this video, giving me the opportunity to listen to the song beginning to end.
it still made my feminist bones ache, but i was forced to make a confession.
she had a point.
as someone who's been in the position of feeling like a man is wasting your time and your precious divine energy by failing to make a commitment beyond sexual fidelity, it does ring true.
you don't want to see me with anyone else? don't bore the hell outta me. you want to avoid a shattered ego? make a move.
while i don't think it's a good idea to go flaunting new dude in front of old dude when his numbers are barely deleted from your SIM card, there is definitely something to be said for losing your place in line.
brothas, please note: we will not wait for you forever--despite what we might say to you when we're deeply in love--and the farther we are from, say, 18 or 21, the more we mean that.
we all know the man who's been on some, "yeah...i cheated once or twice, and i don't never call when i'm gonna be out late with the fellas and i banged up her car that one time, BUT SHE AIN'T HAVE TO LEAVE ME!!" this song is for you.
[sidenote: a recent conversation with the ex noted that brothas are, slowly but surely, stepping up 'cause, "we sense y'all are gonna take our sweet honey away." to which i replied, "GOOD."]
and, to be fair, there are the usual dangers of the wrong women making this their anthem. specifically, ones who wanna use songs like this to avoid looking in the mirror and facing their own knee-high bullshit. or the ones who just want to perpetuate unnecessary forms of drama. sistagirl, that ain't cool.
so, ms. carter, if this is truly intended to be a call for the (fully grown) sistas who've done the work and put in the time to tell their mates to step up or step off, i'm with you.
...feelin' the choreography, too. word to bob fosse.
*to be clear, i am not anti-marriage. i believe that a deep, spiritually and temporally committed union supported by family, friends and loved ones is totally possible and wondrous. i am, at heart, a serial monogamist. it is the judeo-christian institution full of "submission", "helpmeets", and other disparate notions of gender inequality, authority, and further perpetuation of the nuclear family myth/pod--in situations where that family structure is inherently dismissive of community--that pisses me off.
8.28.2008
singlehood chronicles # 4
so now the evil little thoughts have started to seep in...
"oh god...what happens if he decides he doesn't like me??"
"i can't keep going with this...i might get hurt!"
"he might say 'no'..."
"this feels too nice..."
*record scratch*
hold up.
this is not me.
since my healing began 13 years ago, i have been blessed with the ability to be near fearless in love, lust, and everything in between.
however, spending most of my 20s in an almost incessant cycle of karma breaking and lesson learning gave me a pretty decent case of amnesia.
i'd almost forgotten that risks are good...and important.
besides, my heart could very well be approaching unbreakable status. one gift of my struggle has been a near seamless internalization of reason-season-lifetime.
i am secure in my love of spirit and love of self. that, by extension, makes me secure in all things.
i can love without labels, give without remorse, and spread honey and glitter with abandon. i can share this wonderment with whomever i choose.
and so what if i happen to shed a few tears along the way? being human, it's easy to forget what i (deeply) know.
what's key is that i come back to this place, every time. because i've done the work. because i know.
thus, i was able to soothe myself: "honey, if he doesn't want you, then he's not the one. for every 'no' he could possibly say to you, you'll hear 'yes' in a hundred different ways. and it feels good because it's supposed to."
"oh god...what happens if he decides he doesn't like me??"
"i can't keep going with this...i might get hurt!"
"he might say 'no'..."
"this feels too nice..."
*record scratch*
hold up.
this is not me.
since my healing began 13 years ago, i have been blessed with the ability to be near fearless in love, lust, and everything in between.
however, spending most of my 20s in an almost incessant cycle of karma breaking and lesson learning gave me a pretty decent case of amnesia.
i'd almost forgotten that risks are good...and important.
besides, my heart could very well be approaching unbreakable status. one gift of my struggle has been a near seamless internalization of reason-season-lifetime.
i am secure in my love of spirit and love of self. that, by extension, makes me secure in all things.
i can love without labels, give without remorse, and spread honey and glitter with abandon. i can share this wonderment with whomever i choose.
and so what if i happen to shed a few tears along the way? being human, it's easy to forget what i (deeply) know.
what's key is that i come back to this place, every time. because i've done the work. because i know.
thus, i was able to soothe myself: "honey, if he doesn't want you, then he's not the one. for every 'no' he could possibly say to you, you'll hear 'yes' in a hundred different ways. and it feels good because it's supposed to."
8.11.2008
chasing amy
ok, so, i got chasing amy from netflix recently, seeing as it's one of those movies that everyone kept telling me i had to see.
my relationship with kevin smith had a rocky start. i was in my late h.s./early college years when he was putting out clerks and mallrats. cosmo tried to get me into his stuff, but...i simply wasn't feeling it. i recall him attempting to indoctrinate me during a lazy saturday afternoon in bed. about 10 minutes into mallrats, i demanded that he "turn this shit off".
now, with a little more life experience and a slightly modified sense of humor, i'm cool with smith. i loved dogma on sight, and he's probably one of the few people who's stuff i'd throw down $8-10 to see, no questions asked.
so, back to chasing amy.
the whole madonna/whore dichotomy has always pissed me off. when holden made his plea to alyssa in the car, my heart melted. i started thinking of how much i miss being in love, those first stirrings of knowing that this person is just wonderfully right for you (at least for now...lol), and building up to the first moment you let them know. the honesty, the passion, all that romantic shit.
and then he finds out--via an infantile, sexually frustrated, hatin ass so-called best friend--that the girl has a "past" and throws it all away.
...only to wise up later.
dumbass.
having been on alyssa's end of this latent male wisdom, i'm sorry i didn't see this sooner. it might have cushioned some of the blows i've gotten since.
i would rant and rave over where hayden got off blasting alyssa for living a little, but i know where he got off.
just like i know where banky got off with his the-man-doth-protest-too-much homophobia.
praise be to my mom & dad, i don't know what it's like to be uptight about just about every bodily function and every position that ain't missionary. but a lot of folks do--and are still living there well into adulthood.
hence hayden's hangups and inability to cope with alyssa--who, to me, embodied the free-wheeling, no holds barred feminine principle.
and we all know what happened to the feminine principle.
the movie touches on the ways in which sons are guided while daughters are either imprisoned or left to fend for themselves (e.g. alyssa's parents never being home). our desires are worthless, fleeting, and/or inconsequential.
boys get to take over the world while girls walk around in a daze wondering why they're here at all--unless it's to get the boys, who are in charge, to like them.
alyssa's what happens when (a) the "good girl" type isn't properly internalized and (b) the boys don't matter so much.
and men wonder why their girlfriends don't tell them shit. 90% of y'all couldn't handle it if we did.
what alyssa (and the proverbial amy) said was true: if we want you, we want you. all the other stuff doesn't matter.
we have to find ourselves just like you do, only there's no "wrong" way for men to do so.
kudos to smith for turning this stuff on its head and bringing it to the light of day as, i suppose, only a good catholic boy could do.
menfolks: i love y'all, i swear i do, but PLEASE find a way to handle the egos. thanks.
my relationship with kevin smith had a rocky start. i was in my late h.s./early college years when he was putting out clerks and mallrats. cosmo tried to get me into his stuff, but...i simply wasn't feeling it. i recall him attempting to indoctrinate me during a lazy saturday afternoon in bed. about 10 minutes into mallrats, i demanded that he "turn this shit off".
now, with a little more life experience and a slightly modified sense of humor, i'm cool with smith. i loved dogma on sight, and he's probably one of the few people who's stuff i'd throw down $8-10 to see, no questions asked.
so, back to chasing amy.
the whole madonna/whore dichotomy has always pissed me off. when holden made his plea to alyssa in the car, my heart melted. i started thinking of how much i miss being in love, those first stirrings of knowing that this person is just wonderfully right for you (at least for now...lol), and building up to the first moment you let them know. the honesty, the passion, all that romantic shit.
and then he finds out--via an infantile, sexually frustrated, hatin ass so-called best friend--that the girl has a "past" and throws it all away.
...only to wise up later.
dumbass.
having been on alyssa's end of this latent male wisdom, i'm sorry i didn't see this sooner. it might have cushioned some of the blows i've gotten since.
i would rant and rave over where hayden got off blasting alyssa for living a little, but i know where he got off.
just like i know where banky got off with his the-man-doth-protest-too-much homophobia.
praise be to my mom & dad, i don't know what it's like to be uptight about just about every bodily function and every position that ain't missionary. but a lot of folks do--and are still living there well into adulthood.
hence hayden's hangups and inability to cope with alyssa--who, to me, embodied the free-wheeling, no holds barred feminine principle.
and we all know what happened to the feminine principle.
the movie touches on the ways in which sons are guided while daughters are either imprisoned or left to fend for themselves (e.g. alyssa's parents never being home). our desires are worthless, fleeting, and/or inconsequential.
boys get to take over the world while girls walk around in a daze wondering why they're here at all--unless it's to get the boys, who are in charge, to like them.
alyssa's what happens when (a) the "good girl" type isn't properly internalized and (b) the boys don't matter so much.
and men wonder why their girlfriends don't tell them shit. 90% of y'all couldn't handle it if we did.
what alyssa (and the proverbial amy) said was true: if we want you, we want you. all the other stuff doesn't matter.
we have to find ourselves just like you do, only there's no "wrong" way for men to do so.
kudos to smith for turning this stuff on its head and bringing it to the light of day as, i suppose, only a good catholic boy could do.
menfolks: i love y'all, i swear i do, but PLEASE find a way to handle the egos. thanks.
7.28.2008
a reminder.
if you're half steppin, don't bother steppin at all.
i don't want maybes, buts, excuses or apologies.
if you want me, say so.
if you don't, say that too.
if you want to know, ask, and i'll tell you.
if you hold up a jewel in front of me, it'd better be for me.
yeah, tension's ok and all, but right now? i want satisfaction.
i've done enough waiting.
i've had enough of sometimes, almosts, and coulda/shouldas.
i need firm ground to stand on, promises fulfilled, adoration repaid.
if you've promised me nothing, you owe me nothing.
but don't come knocking and talking big, 'cause that'll get you nowhere.
potential means very little.
i'm sorry, but that ship has sailed.
results, movement, progress, evolution...that's everything.
i'd rather be that woman and keep my soul than watch it wither away and call it a home.
...and i'm going to keep saying it until he shows up.
the he who can do what he says...not just think about it or visualize it.
who isn't afraid.
who doesn't back down--from me or himself.
who will fight for me like i'll fight for him.
who will know that i'm his from my walk, my smile, and my laugh.
who realizes that not being co-dependent doesn't mean i don't need him.
this rant brought to you by a bona fide omo sango moment. kawo kabiyesile!
i don't want maybes, buts, excuses or apologies.
if you want me, say so.
if you don't, say that too.
if you want to know, ask, and i'll tell you.
if you hold up a jewel in front of me, it'd better be for me.
yeah, tension's ok and all, but right now? i want satisfaction.
i've done enough waiting.
i've had enough of sometimes, almosts, and coulda/shouldas.
i need firm ground to stand on, promises fulfilled, adoration repaid.
if you've promised me nothing, you owe me nothing.
but don't come knocking and talking big, 'cause that'll get you nowhere.
potential means very little.
i'm sorry, but that ship has sailed.
results, movement, progress, evolution...that's everything.
i'd rather be that woman and keep my soul than watch it wither away and call it a home.
...and i'm going to keep saying it until he shows up.
the he who can do what he says...not just think about it or visualize it.
who isn't afraid.
who doesn't back down--from me or himself.
who will fight for me like i'll fight for him.
who will know that i'm his from my walk, my smile, and my laugh.
who realizes that not being co-dependent doesn't mean i don't need him.
this rant brought to you by a bona fide omo sango moment. kawo kabiyesile!
6.21.2008
singlehood chronicles #2
well, one down, one more to go. my friends have begun to regale me, once again, with the title of "pimp". LOL.
i'm sure there are more to meet...the summer's young, and there are still plenty of festivals & outdoor activities, etc.
(ex)honey and i have settled into a comfortable friendship that i enjoy. i'm glad that we've come around to being able to care for and about one another--even share dating tips--without the stress and strain that had started to hang over our relationship.
cosmo's cool, i guess...
...and there's supposed to be someone on the way. my true mate/husband. i still feel too gun shy for anything that deep, but these things typically happen when they're meant, not necessarily when you're "ready".
stay tuned...
i'm sure there are more to meet...the summer's young, and there are still plenty of festivals & outdoor activities, etc.
(ex)honey and i have settled into a comfortable friendship that i enjoy. i'm glad that we've come around to being able to care for and about one another--even share dating tips--without the stress and strain that had started to hang over our relationship.
cosmo's cool, i guess...
...and there's supposed to be someone on the way. my true mate/husband. i still feel too gun shy for anything that deep, but these things typically happen when they're meant, not necessarily when you're "ready".
stay tuned...
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