Archive for the ‘Man vs. Woman’ Category







She veered a little toward angry at the end, but this is life.


Firsthand experience (which you probably already know):


Dude and I are BOTH unemployed.


I’m collecting unemployment, temping when I find work, and working whatever odd jobs I can find, including taking a two-hour bus ride to clean fish for $7/hour on weekends, and babysitting until 5 in the morning, begging and borrowing from my friends and family, while he literally brings home NOTHING.


After six months of giving him job leads, suggestions, and bus fare, week after week of fussing, fighting and crying, on top of paying every last one of the bills and feeding him – he couldn’t even be bothered with physically making the trip to buy the groceries, I put him out.


Everybody says I should have been more patient.



Secondhand story:


I have a girlfriend who lives with her boyfriend.

He comes home with girls’ numbers in his pocket, crazy texts popping up on his phone in the middle of the night, over the line flirting on social networks (he’s getting tagged in pictures hugged up on chicks at the bar, and having convos about “last night in the back seat of my car” on Twitter), catches attitudes with her if he finds her home when she’s not “supposed” to be there – one day she got off of work early, so she dressed up in the french maid costume & he flipped out on her for being at home – but she has the kool-aid coursing through her veins and believes it’s on her to make it work.


I have to console her every week, every month, then watch her go back to “but most women would just be happy to have a man at all, so I have to make this work.”


And it’s always the raggedy niggas who do the shittiest things to their girls, saying things like, “don’t go listening to your angry girlfriends.”



I came across a male person’s blog – which I refuse to cite – about chivalry being dead in the wee hours of the morning (totally should have been studying the first three chapters of my psychology textbook, but whatevs). To summarize the post, with a quote from the post:

You can have the freedom, the increased salary, and the open possibility for a female president … or you can have your car door opened, your drink bought for you, and stay in the house cooking and cleaning all day … not both.

What the shit?

That is easily the dumbest sentence ever written by a seemingly educated and seemingly straight male person. I refer to him as such because I feel it is disrespectful to call his grown ass a boy, but, clearly, he is not a man.

Because of the possibilities for women to “achieve,” we no longer deserve to be treated like women?

Oh, ok.

Hey, my friend, because I bought that $3 shot of Jack for you (and clearly emasculated you by flaunting my wealth), you may never open the car door for me again. I’m also worried for your man-card because that (god-awful) sandwich you made and shared with me (after I cleaned the kitchen for you) is probably a violation of gender roles.

Sir, because a woman ran for president (which obviously means I don’t need a man – even though Hils is very much married), you may never again pay for my drink. Also, because I work outside the home (and that unequivocally means I think men are useless and unnecessary), you must leave me to hop in cab or on a bus next time we hang out til 2am, and not offer me a ride home anymore.

That’s what I gathered from this… that the author thinks, in no uncertain terms, that we women should be forced to fend for ourselves in every situation; essentially, the entire gender should be punished for progressing.

That is mad petty, and wreaks of his questionable manhood feeling threatened.

I’d be wrong if I compared that to the plantation foreman beating a slave for learning to read, though, right?

Despite calling our freedom and equality well-deserved, the author of that piece explicitly faulted us for our independence. Well, let me tell you something… Being an independent woman doesn’t mean I don’t need a man. It simply means I don’t have to rely on him 100% of the time to provide my every single need. Hell, I can give my self an orgasm, too, if you wanna go there, but I digress.

I’ve been on my own since the day I graduated high school, but I took my last job for the specific reason that the hours would allow me to be an involved parent – soccer games and all the extra curricular activities my well-rounded child(ren) will choose to join, have dinner on the table when you get home, and still provide a substantial supplementary income. I fully intend to support my future husband by contributing to our household as much as I can. As long as is necessary to ensure our family’s comfort, and as long as it does not conflict with my duties as a wife and mother.

You won’t have to worry about your home being clean or your dinner being ready if you don’t want to. Whether that means doing it myself or not, is a different subject, but I do accept that this may be my responsibility in the home. So, dear future husband, once all of the essentials are taken care of, there is a very real chance that I will want to use part of my income to hire a maid to clean the house and do the laundry and use the free time to go to the gym/nail salon/hairdresser/etc (happy wife = happy life *shrug*). Still… won’t be your concern unless you want it to be, which means everybody’s happy.

Back to independent women… I didn’t make the decision to go out into the world and show men that I can do it all without them. Reality is, the days of living at home until a man claims me as his wife and moves me into the home he has provided for me are long gone. For one, it is possible for me to earn a living, so expecting my parents to provide for my able-bodied self is just disrespectful. For two, the costs have soared, and I don’t expect my future husband to have to foot that bill on his own. If I did, I’d have to set my sights on a rather well-to-do man, and, then you’d call me some kind of gold-digger, right?

Should I become thoroughly dependent to assuage his insecurity? If he’s that insecure, becoming dependent would only exacerbate the situation. Those circumstances unfailingly lead to a helpless woman stuck in an abusive relationship. That, however, is a different discussion.

I say all this to say, don’t assume to know me based on your stereotypes of our gender. Wanting to be treated as equals, does not mean the same as wanting to be treated as a man.

Don’t assume to know me based on your perception of my life. Doing what I have to do to make it on my own does not mean I want to be on my own.

Don’t punish me for being born a woman in this day and age.

Honestly, as much as that article annoyed me, my primary thought is that I really appreciate the men of character in my life. They already know that I recognize and value them for who they are, but this makes me want to let them know that I love them for what they’re not, as well.

Reading this opinion, and knowing that there are men out there who not only think like that author, but think it logical and enlightened enough to publish it – and under his own identity – makes me even more grateful to them and for them.

To all of the men who have picked up my tab without a second thought… To all of the men who do hold doors for women… To all of the men who have ever prepared food for me… To all of the men who do make sure the women I love and I are safe and cared for, I bow to you.

I’m good for saying “been there, done that,” and quoting Ecclesiastes 1:9 as proof:

What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.

Or, for my Biblically-challenged contemporaries, Lauryn Hill’s ‘Lost One’:

Remember not a game new under the sun
Everything you did has already been done

But, someone asked a question the other day, that I had never considered. I was completely aghast that I had to think about it, mostly because I may be the only person on earth who’s never considered something THIS common.

I was absolutely speechless. I’ve got plenty to say on the subject now, though, so bear with me.

The question: “What are the 5 most important qualities u seek in a spouse?”

*opens mouth to speak and nothing comes out*


The answer came to me mad easily, though, and I thought I was done with it, but, the more I look at my answer, the more it seems to deserve further contemplation. “Compassion, loyalty, wit, sex appeal, sex drive. In that order.” This is one of those things where your definition defines you. And since this little experiment of a blog is all about me defining me, guess what – it needs a little exploration.

They are all equally important in the sense that any four of the five without the fifth would not suffice, but, my order stands.

1. Compassion : sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it.

Compassion comes first, because its presence, or lack thereof, shades every interaction in your entire universe.

“Compassion is the ultimate and most meaningful embodiment of emotional maturity. It is through compassion that a person achieves the highest peak and deepest reach in his or her search for self-fulfillment.” –Arthur Jersild

“Compassion is not sentiment but is making justice and doing works of mercy. Compassion is not a moral commandment but a flow and overflow of the fullest human and divine energies.” –Matthew Fox

I am… an emotional person. A sympathizer. An altruist. An empath, even (but on a much lower plane than anything resembling sorcery). Meaning, the human condition as a whole, and on an individual level affects me deeply. I feel intense emotion (happiness, sadness, anger, the whole shebang) when it comes to others, and it is my nature to help people. Helping is a MAJOR part of my character.

There is a program called Insights Discovery. Extensive personality analysis… You answer a bazillion questions and it evaluates both your conscious persona – who you are when you are not relaxing, so to speak – and your subconscious persona. Both of mine are squarely on “Helper.” My subconscious persona leans a little more toward “Supporter,” and my conscious slightly toward “Inspiring.” Supportive Helper” and “Inspiring Helper.” I live to serve.

How you sympathize dictates how you treat people… It’s not just about how you treat me, though. How you treat me and our children matters JUST AS MUCH as how you treat a total stranger or an animal. Feel free to disagree. That just means you’re not the one for me, and that’s OK by me. I’m not saying you have to give your last when you see a homeless person, but if you have no emotional reaction, or a negative one, toward the plight of another being, you and I can NEVER co-exist.

This is not mere hypothesis. I have two exes who will attest to it. They both treated me like the world, and treated other people like shit. One thought he was better than others – a valet said “thanks, brother” and his reaction was to  say aloud “you and I are not kin” in the most condescending manner – and I couldn’t accept it. The other was just rude to people who didn’t matter in his eyes – it wasn’t unusual for him to say “who the fuck are you” to a total stranger – and I wasn’t having it. And I let them both know. To this day, both come at me with this “I need you, you make me a better person” spiel at least once per season, but I’m not in the business of teaching adults how to act. Totally contradictory to my “helper” nature, I’m sure it seems, but, no sir. You don’t care about people. I am people. When you mistreat them, it hurts me. I can’t spend my days trying to revolve around someone who hurts me.

2. Loyalty: the quality or state or an instance of being unswerving in allegiance.

Loyalty comes second, because your devotion to me, although equally important in my spouse, is secondary to who you are as a person. You can be a compassionate soul and have no loyalty to me. You can’t be loyal to me if you have no sense of compassion.

Despite my Gemini flightiness, we are notoriously different people where love is involved. I have blinders when I’m caught up, and I need the same. Otherwise, it isn’t safe for me, you know? I can’t fall if you’re not gonna be there to catch me. You can’t be my everything if you can walk away. I have this whole Bonnie & Clyde/Make Me Better/Upgrade You(slightly less materialistic, though) thing going on. You gotta ride for our team, cuz I’ma damn sure do the same.

Plus, I have this inherent helper inside me. Please refer to Insights Discovery under item #1. It is my nature is to help others be their best by supporting them and/or inspiring them. You know?

3. Wit: Intellectual humor.

Say what you want. I require humor – lots of humor, and usually require it to be intelligent. It is not my fault that my IQ allegedly puts me in the top 1% of the human population. Nor is it my fault that I was born a Gemini, and thus appreciate a clever play on words.

A cheap shot is not funny if it doesn’t make any sense, though. That being said, I can’t stand people who try to make sense of the nonsensical. I know: I’m a walking, talking oxymoron. Whatevs.

Point is, I love to laugh. I live, I love, I laugh. I live to laugh. If we don’t have similar senses of humor, and you don’t amuse me, we will never in life have an interesting conversation. If I don’t enjoy talking to you, I won’t. Ever.

Plus, have you ever heard my laugh? From one person who heard me laugh wholeheartedly when caught off guard, “If you havent heard [Kar’s] pure innocent childish laugh then you havent lived.” Win-win, duh?

4. Sex Appeal: Something about him that turns me on.

This is self-explanatory, right? I have to be drawn like a moth to a flame. If there is no spark, there is no us. I’m a passionate soul and I need someone who makes me want to spend three days in a hotel room with them, preferably not talking.

Important side note, sex appeal and aesthetics are not mutually exclusive. There are plenty of “beautiful people” who don’t do it for me, and plenty of decidedly less attractive ones who do.

5. Sex Drive: libido, desire for sexual activity.

I’m a prude, cuz I don’t like to talk about it, but… *shrug* Go figure.

In that order, and all are non-negotiable.

“I don’t mind living in a man’s world as long as I can be a woman in it.” — Marilyn Monroe

“Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition.” — Marilyn Monroe

Typical Gemini that I am (as was Marilyn), I can see it both ways and neither excludes the other.

Women are at least equal mentally, and deserve the opportunity to be whatever we can conceive IF WE WANT, and OBVIOUSLY to vote and all that, but…


I’m reading this Forbes article, “On Sexual Harassment: Hey Ladies, Man Up!” and I knew from the very first sentence, what my answer was going to be. lol. TREAT ME LIKE A LADY! Duh.

Good morning.

Today… it was just like New Year’s Day.

Raging hangover, in bed all day, talked to my… something… and cried.

August 2009, on opposite coasts, in different time zones, we became more than just slight acquaintances in passing. We met years earlier, and after maybe 5 years of rolling in the same social circle and living in the same city, we finally became friends.

In November 2009, I tried to hook him up with my sister. That’s when I found out he was “on my top.”

January 7, 2010 was the day we officially decided to be more than just friends. About a week later was our last conversation. His last sentence was… I can’t tell you that, but it was G rated and he called me beautiful.

*Someone recently mentioned to me that they heard I was very beautiful and it obviously came from him… I’m just not sure when.

April something (yes, three months later) is when he explained why I hadn’t heard from him since that last conversation.

I tried earlier today to write “our” story. I can’t remember the details, the dates, the words that made it so special, and that’s a good thing, because sharing them would detract from them. I couldn’t publish what I had written, though, for the same reason. It’s too personal. I have to keep it to myself. I’m funny like that. Privacy issues.

Trying to write it just made me even more upset because I thoroughly understand the perceived absurdity of loving (so deeply) someone you’ve literally never touched. Sometimes I think I am a fool for falling in love with someone I never even shared a meal with. But, that is me. I’m a Gemini. The way to my heart is through my head, and the only people I’ve ever fallen for have wooed me with their words.

The distance is what did it. We were on opposite coasts, and we talked all day, every day. You’d be amazed at the bond it creates. At just how much manages to be said, when all you have are words to exchange. No meaningful glances, no profound silence, no shared experiences. You have to say EVERYTHING. Just talking to each other. 24/7. Texts, BBM, Skype, Twitter, Facebook, Ustream, all nighters on the phone… you’d really be amazed at just how much you share when the only thing you can do together is talk.

I got to know him in those five months. To understand him. Far better than I would have if we had been physically close. A whole lot less would have been said in person. It would have been more censored, and the *click* was outrageous, so we’d have probably been humping like rabbits or something other than talking.

Plus, by him being there and me being here, he was always in his element and I was always in mine, so things flowed more freely.

There was no growing apart, no disagreement, no falling out, no bitter breakup, just… his concise explanation, and my very simple response. I was… angry when I was in the dark – very angry, and rightly so, I believe – but, when the reason came out, I couldn’t give him anything but respect.

My heart was absolutely broken. Devastated. I had a physical pain in my chest that lasted almost as long as his consumption and utter domination of my world did. It took me a long time to cry, even though I was so used to going to bed talking to him and waking up talking to him, that sheer force of habit – checking my texts when I woke up – reminded me daily of what was no longer there.

I’m not sure why I couldn’t cry, but when I did… smh… Headaches and stopped-up noses and everything.

I eventually wrote him a letter… nothing hurtful or hateful, just telling him how heartbroken I really was. How much what “we” had meant to me. He was my best friend for those last two months. My world. Weeks after he read it, I asked my best friend to read the letter and she said my words made her cry. I haven’t had the heart to read it since.

Time heals all wounds, right… I mean, I’m over it… He and I speak almost daily, both in private, and publicly. No one would ever know what was going on behind the scenes. Just like when we were “we.”

I saw a picture of him today, and my heart just broke all over again. I told him. It feels strange talking to him about it. Some part of me feels like it isn’t fair that I had to let go of something so fairy-tale through no fault of my own. I didn’t fuck it up and I didn’t call it quits. How is it right that I lost it?

I didn’t even realize the proximity to the date… not like I was gonna mourn on an “anniversary” or something, but, hell, I’ll never forget that date.

I don’t mourn the loss of him, because I haven’t lost HIM at all. I don’t mourn the lost love, because I still adore him and I suspect it might be mutual. Just on a different level.

I never, for a second, regret loving anyone, because it feels so good to give love, and the moments of joy will always have been worth it.

I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad when it DOES hurt.

One of the lessons I have learned in my lifetime, and the thought of which is totally my solace… Whenever something great ends, it’s only because something greater is coming.

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  • Najeema: I've got the same plans (and posterboard on my kitchen table) for a vision board. I'll share mine if you share yours, lol. Hoping you attract everythi
  • NVRGVUP: Love is where it's at!